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xorafe · 7 days

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watch and learn (part eight)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

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The Sunday morning sky is cloudy, offering hardly any sunlight to shine into your dorm room. Considering the tangled, dreary way you woke up feeling, it’s fitting.

Liv comes over with smoothies from an on-campus juice bar.

“They call this one Hangover Cure,” she says as she hands you a tall, plastic cup. “So I got us both the biggest size.”

You smile and thank her, feeling like you have more of an emotional hangover than a physical one. You sit up in your bed as she sits in your desk chair, swirling the straw in her drink.

“So, what happened last night?” she asks.

You shrug and look down. You’re not sure you should hook up with Rafe anymore. You don’t understand how he can call you perfect and beautiful and baby during sex, but when you’re clothed, he acts casual. At best. At worst, he’s just a jerk.

You did share a tender moment last night at the party, but it lasted mere seconds before he turned the conversation sexual again.

“What always happens. We hooked up and I went home.” You take a beat. “You actually think he likes me?” Your voice is thin as you recall Liv’s text from last night.

“The jealousy on his face when I told him you were with Blake… was something else,” she tells you. “And the way he left with you?”

She gives you a knowing look and takes a sip of her drink.

“Do you like him?” she asks. Liv’s already heard all about your arrangement with Rafe, but whenever she hinted that it could be more, you laughed it off. You don’t laugh this time.

“I’d be an idiot to like a guy who tells me from the get-go that would never tie himself down with a girlfriend,” you say. “The jealousy was because he might lose his favorite booty call.”

“If you say so,” she says. You force yourself not to feel any hope from her words.

You think about the way Rafe looked when you asked him about his family last night. It was a small glimpse into a side you hardly ever see.

He does have a heart underneath all the attitude and temper and ego. And it’s clearly damaged. But you’re not going to make a fool of yourself hoping he shows it to you again, let alone opens it up.

“Anyways, look what Blake texted me,” you say. When you hand Liv your phone and she reads the message, she puts her hand over her mouth in shock.

“This is so cute,” she coos. “A man who directly tells you he likes you? That exists?”

“Apparently,” you say. “I think I’m gonna say yes.”

“You should,” Liv replies. “But, and don’t kill me for asking, would you say yes to Rafe if he texted you this?”

“He wouldn’t,” you say confidently, taking back your phone. “Okay, stop holding out on me. You made out with Sam? How did that happen?”

Your friend tells you about the rest of her night and you’re appreciative of the break from your own thoughts.

About half an hour later, Rafe is coming back from the gym when he hears your laugh coming from your room. He can’t pass up the opportunity to pound on your door.

“Too loud!” he calls, passing by. Liv gets startled and you laugh again, recognizing his voice right away.

“Asshole,” you quietly mutter. Liv looks at you for a moment, no doubt noticing the smile on your face.

After she leaves, you look at Blake’s text again.

Gotta be honest. I wanted to kiss you when we were in my room but you make me really nervous haha. Can I take you on a date? A real one. Not just a study date lol. All good if you’re not into it. Let me know.

While you haven’t always necessarily felt an overwhelmingly strong pull to Blake, you definitely have a crush. You wanted him to kiss you last night. Maybe you could make each other happy.

You reply: you don’t have to be nervous :) a real date sounds nice.

When Blake responds, you plan to go out to dinner together on Wednesday night.

On Tuesday, one of your floormates knocks on your door to tell you she’s having a party in the common room that night. Since alcohol isn’t allowed in the building’s public areas, she lets you know the booze will be hidden to give the impression that it’s a dry party.

You decide to take the invitation. It’s nearing 9 pm when you enter the large room, its walls already packed with a crowd of students you’ve seen around the building.

Music is playing under the overlapping conversations and bottles of juice and soda are scattered around the room. You’re sure they’re all made to look innocent but are spiked with booze.

You dive into conversation with a girl who lives a floor above you when you pick up a solo cup and fill it with juice, barely glancing at the table as the overwhelming aroma of vodka hits you.

Rafe will never turn down an invitation to a party. When he comes through the door, he sees you standing by one of the couches and chatting with someone. Like always, you look pretty as hell.

He looks to one of the tables in the room to see stacks of different colored solo cups behind pieces of paper, words scribbled in marker. It must be some sort of party game.

The pink cups are behind a note that says Taken; the purple, Down to Smash, blue, Single; green, It’s Complicated.

He glances at you again to see you holding a purple cup. Down to smash?

You’ve been chatting for a while now, your cup empty and your head already sort of buzzing from how much vodka was in the bitter juice. You look up from your conversation to see Rafe gazing at you from across the room.

You hate how he can be so relaxed, in a simple t-shirt and jeans and messy hair, and still look so good.

He has a ridiculous effect on you. You accept this as a fact when you realize you’re overjoyed to see him. He’s captivating without even trying.

It’s the type of happiness you feel when you see a good friend, you tell yourself.

Your heart skips a beat when he crosses the space, closing the distance between you. You tell the girl it was nice talking to her before Rafe inevitably interrupts you.

He approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Interesting choice,” Rafe says.

“What?”

“That,” he mumbles, pointing to your cup.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you laugh.

Rafe silently nods his head towards the desk by the door. You glance over to see writing in front of each stack of cups.

“Oh,” you say, brushing past him to look down at the spread. “I didn’t know the colors meant anything.”

You can still taste the juice you drank. The vodka was good, but the juice wasn’t.

“Yuck, I hate this flavor,” you say. Rafe looks over at the bottle you must have poured from.

You study the cups, and if you’re really honest, the green cup is the most fitting. It’s Complicated. Because you’re not looking to casually hook up with anyone else, yet you’re not devoted to someone. Single makes you look like you’re hoping to be in a relationship, when you already sort of like two guys at once.

“What’s complicated?” Rafe asks when you pick it up. He wonders if it’s because of Blake.

You give him that look he’s so used to by now, that look that somehow irritates him and turns him on at the same time. At least you didn’t pick up the Taken cup. He can still touch you if you let him.

For a moment, he imagines a world where he isn’t in a frat. Where you two meet like this, at a dorm party, and he doesn’t have to watch you get slowly taken away by a guy he introduced you to.

“I can’t explain it. That’s what makes it complicated,” you flirt with a smug smile. You decide to put the cup back, still holding on to the empty purple one, figuring you’re tipsy enough for a school night.

“Why not?” he asks, muttering his words angrily.

“Is being mad, like your default state?” you ask with a small smile. “Or are you just jealous?”

“What the hell would I be jealous of?” Rafe’s eyes dart away.

“Blake,” you reply bluntly. His blue eyes meet yours.

Does he not know how transparent he is? He was pissed when he learned you were with Blake last night. He basically yanked you out of the party.

“You know you could easily find another girl to fuck around with, right?” you say. “I know of two, at least.”

You think back to the girl he had moaning in his room and the girl he made out with at the mixer party.

“I wanna fuck around with you,” he says. You let out a disillusioned chuckle.

“Charming,” you mutter. The response tells you everything you need to know. He’s mad because he’s losing a fuck buddy.

“Are you with him or not?” Rafe asks sternly.

The conversation has ignited an alluring tension between you. You were considering stopping the hook-ups. But you melt under his gaze, head swimming, core heating.

You’re nobody’s girlfriend. Why not have great sex with a friend while you’re available?

“I’m not,” you say, looking down at your purple cup. “I guess this was the right choice for tonight.”

Despite the irritation and jealousy gnawing at Rafe, he happily surrenders to the rush of excitement prickling his skin.

“Why aren’t we fucking then?” he asks.

“We?” you tease, pulling at the string making him jealous just a little more. “I was thinking I should find someone else and put all my practice to the test.”

“Shut up,” Rafe says with a lazy smile, taking the empty cup from you and placing it on the table, replacing it with his hand.

It’s almost funny, considering he was so against holding your hand the night on the boat, but now does it in front of a crowd of people.

His grip is tight as you leave the room together. Pulling you out of parties to get naked with you is becoming a new habit of his.

You’re glad he doesn’t suggest going to your room. It’s easier to leave him after the sex than to be left.

With that thought, a moment of self-restraint hits you when his door slams behind you and his lips are on yours, hands cupping your face.

“Turn on some music,” you pull back to tell him. “Loud.” Hopefully it’ll keep him from talking. His tender words are too much if you want to protect your heart.

He flips on a playlist on his speakers. Of course he has one at the ready. You bet he has turned it on for lots of other girls.

The first few notes play. You love this song. You knew what kind of party music he liked, but who knew you’d have the same taste in slow songs as Rafe does?

Rafe’s mouth finds yours again, his tongue swirling gently, his body curving into yours as you stand in the middle of his room, the gentle music filling your ears.

You both have your own pace, so in tune with each other now. He knows where to touch you and when, stripping layers off you between heated, deep kisses.

Once you’re in your bra and panties, you realize this might have to be the last time. Because his lips and hands feel damn near perfect as they roam over you. Because now you can only hope you find another man who can touch you and push you out of your comfort zone like this.

You urgently pull his shirt off and shift to sit on the edge of his desk, pulling him in, cupping his firm shoulders. Rafe smiles, amused by you taking control. You really aren’t shy anymore.

“You want me to fuck you on my desk?” he mumbles against your ear over the music. He spoke, but as long as it isn’t misleadingly romantic, you’re okay with it.

He unhooks your bra, squeezing your chest tenderly.

This is just sex. And with the confusion and uneasiness you’ve been feeling, you desperately want to get lost in the pleasure you know he can give you.

“Be rough with me,” you urge. Rafe’s stunned by your words, feeling himself throb with need.

“Look at you telling me what you want,” he praises in your ear, unbuttoning his jeans.

Once his pants and boxers are off, his hands grip your knees, aggressively pulling your legs apart. He presses over the dampness in your panties with his fingers, watching you through hooded eyes as your breath hitches.

“You wet for me?” Rafe mumbles. The moistness between your legs is palpable without you even needing to touch yourself.

“Might’ve made a mess,” you answer, looking down as he stimulates your clit, brushing over your moistened panties. Your words are so hot to him that he almost feels dizzy.

“Shit, baby,” he groans. “I can’t fucking wait to be inside you.” His fingers slip under the band of your underwear, pulling them down your legs.

He pushes your knees apart again, even rougher this time, massaging your bare pussy, coating his fingers in your arousal.

You’re so wet, so sticky, that his cock is aching at this point. He’s so glad you want it rough tonight.

Rafe finds the small of your back, nudging you forward so you’ll tilt your hips up how he wants you to. He takes a condom out of his drawer and you grab it out of his hand, ripping open the wrapper and holding his cock as you roll it down.

It’s intoxicating to him, seeing how bad you’re craving him. How’d he get so fucking lucky to be wanted like this?

Once he can guide his tip into you, he shifts to hold your hips down and look you in the eyes as he jerks into you hard.

The sudden jolt causes you to hit the back of your head on edge of his top shelf and while you giggle, his brows furrow in concern. He brings his hand up, resting it where you hit your head, thrusting into you again and letting the shelf dig into his skin instead.

The gesture is tender but then again, almost everything Rafe does during sex is tender. Why can’t he be like this all the time?

His other hand cups your cheek, pulling back and pushing into you hard again. Your breath hitches at the pressure of him curving up into you like this in the new position.

His thrusts start quickening, the desk rattling against the wall, the music throbbing within the walls of his room. Your pulse is skyrocketing as you take in his aggressive pressure.

“Feel good?” he murmurs.

You nod, lost in the pleasure, eyes rolling. He gently tugs at the roots of your hair, coaxing you to tilt your head back and look at him with your eyelids half-closed and lips parted.

“Fuck, that’s nice,” he whispers. “Like you were made for me.”

This is the shit that brings your heart into something that is only supposed to be about your body.

You press your fingers against his mouth to shut him up, but he takes the opportunity to shift and kiss your palm as he pushes into you.

“Don’t say that stuff,” you mumble.

“What?” he whispers with a mocking chuckle. “Thought I taught you to take compliments.”

“Just don’t,” you urge, leaning in to meet his lips again. Rafe kisses you hard but pulls back, forehead pressed up against yours.

“You still don’t think you’re perfect?” he rasps.

“It’s… it’s not that,” you say. Fuck. He’s just making it worse.

“I thought talking was good,” he says, almost in a whine.

“Just stop,” you tell him, kissing him again.

Rafe hates being told not to speak when all he wants to do is tell you how good you feel, but he gives into the confusing request when he hears the desperation in your tone.

Hell, he’d stop talking for days if it meant he could have you like this.

He deepens the kiss, trapping your bottom lip between his teeth. You groan at the sweet pain, shifting to wrap your arms around his body.

This position isn’t enough. You want him to be able to thrust into you as deep as possible.

“On the bed,” you say urgently. He hates pulling out of you but follows your instructions, watching you drop your feet to the floor.

When you sink onto the bed, your ass in the air, your pussy glistening, his stomach rolls with excitement. He settles behind you, propped on his left knee and his right foot, guiding into you again, watching his cock disappear as you swallow him.

You arch your back and groan, your pulse hard in your ears as he goes balls deep into you. He starts to go so hard that you feel like he’s splitting you open with every frantic thrust, your fingers bunching into his pillow.

The music is too loud. He wants to hear your pretty moans. He shifts off of the bed and you look back in confusion, watching as he shuts off the music and comes back, burying into you again.

“I wanna hear you,” he says. You rest your forehead onto the bed, pushing back onto him as he slams into you. Admittedly, you want to hear him, too.

Your breaths are shallow with his fast pace, sweat coating your skin. His stomach is starting to ache from how hard he’s working his muscles.

“Touch yourself,” he orders. “Cum with me.”

You shudder as you find your swollen clit, rubbing just the way you like while he pounds in and out of you. Rafe loves the way his hands look gripping your hips, your ass recoiling with every move.

“You take it so good,” he says, voice ragged. “This pussy is mine. You’re fucking mine.”

You hate that his possessive words sound so nice to you. A deep pleasure starts to roll through you, your orgasm slowly reaching you. He can tell with the way you’re tensing that you’re close and he goes even harder, your skin slapping.

You moan and shudder through your peak, clenching around him. Rafe’s groan is deep as he feels his cock swell and tighten, releasing and spasming with hard jerks.

His chest is heaving as he pulls out, watching you limp to your side, your face soft and satisfied.

Rafe doesn’t bother to stand and clean up yet. He’ll worry about it later. He gives into the impulse to lie down behind you, his body curving against yours, arm wrapping over your chest.

Your eyelids are heavy as you come down from the high, thinking about the things he said.

“Turns out you need more pointers,” you say between heavy breaths. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that to a girl when you don’t mean it.”

“Like what?” he says into your ear.

“You know what,” you say. “I’m not yours.”

Rafe knows he fucked up by saying that. That’s the kind of shit a boyfriend would say. And he so clearly isn’t the boyfriend type and you so clearly see him as just a friend.

“Why are you so mad, huh?” he says, trying to dismiss the tension. “You’re acting like me in… what’d you call it… my default state?”

You laugh despite yourself. He feels an overwhelming sense of pride from making you smile when you’re clearly upset.

You try to sit up, but his arm is locked around you. His breath is warm and comforting on the back of your neck.

He doesn’t understand where you’re rushing off to. You told him aftercare was important. And for fuck’s sake, now he actually wants you to say and let him hold you for a little while.

You don’t like this. You two are getting dangerously close to cuddling. It’s like he’s trying to make you catch feelings for him. Just because he can separate affection from emotion, doesn’t mean you can.

“Hate to make you sad but I gotta go,” you quip. He exhales mockingly.

“I don’t get sad,” he says bitterly. This makes you still.

With those simple words, Rafe has said so much. You knew he was emotionally unavailable, but the clear disgust he has with the possibility of feeling sad is telling.

“Everyone gets sad,” you say. You think back to his father’s cruel scolding. “And if anyone makes you feel like you’re wrong for being sad, they’ve got their own issues.”

Rafe can’t wrap his head around this. He’s been told to man up all his life.

“Did you fall asleep?” you ask with a chuckle after he doesn’t reply.

“No,” he says quietly. “You honestly believe that?”

“What?”

He’s silent again.

“That it’s okay to be sad, you mean?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Of course,” you say. “What, you don’t?”

“It’s weak.”

You stare ahead at the wall opposite his bed, and you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but you think you can feel his heartbeat against your back. It’s gotten faster.

“Do you really think that? Or did someone make you think it?” you ask.

Rafe has never been challenged like this before. Whenever his father berated him for simply getting close to crying, he was told to grow a backbone. To stop his whining. His whole life.

“I really think that,” he finally says. If sadness wasn’t weakness, why did it always make him feel like he was breaking from the inside?

His coldness makes so much more sense to you now. It seems Rafe doesn’t allow himself to feel anything but anger.

“It’s a good thing you’re not the relationship type,” you say with a sardonic laugh. “Some advice, though? If you ever find a girl you want to be serious with, don’t make her feel shitty for being sad. It’s not weak to have feelings.”

Rafe wants to know if you said he’s not relationship material because he told you himself or if you really think it.

Then he scowls to himself. Why the fuck does he care?

“You’re just full of advice tonight,” he says with a smirk, his hand running over your ass.

“That’s why we started this, isn’t it?” you reply, closing your eyes for a moment to enjoy the sensation. “Speaking of, consider therapy.”

Rafe playfully and gently slaps your ass and you giggle, squirming out of his grip. When you try to get up again, this time, he lets you.

His eyes take you in as you pull your clothes back on, his head propped up on his hand, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. You look at him, noticing how flushed he is from how hard he went.

Normally, being watched like this would make you nervous, but you’re fine with his eyes on you. You actually like it. You’re not sure if it’s because of Rafe or if you’d feel this way with any guy now.

Rafe watches you as you get dressed, getting deep in your thoughts like you do sometimes. How are you so damn cute?

You’re reconsidering your idea of if this should be the last time having sex with him. It feels too good. You’re still buzzing. While you’re single, why can’t you casually hook up with him?

“Fuck, you’re fun,” Rafe says, his bright smile and deep dimples melting your heart.

Okay. This is why you can’t. You started this because you basically hated him when you decided on it. Now, you can’t imagine hating the sweet, complicated man lying in bed watching you.

Maybe this was the last time.

“I know,” you respond with a smile, copying his cockiness. You finish dressing yourself and rush out to take a shower, wishing the water could wash away the complicated feelings bothering you.

The next night, an hour before Blake said he’d pick you up, you’re getting ready, music playing loudly from your computer.

Rafe is trying to make sense of a syllabus as your music floats into his room. He thinks of last night and immediately wonders if you’re hosting someone. And having sex with them.

As you try on your third outfit, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: loud af… do i need to tell on you

You smirk.

You: dude it’s not even quiet hours

You calling him dude reminds him of the way you called Blake babe the other night. He forces away the memory.

Rafe: partying by yourself?

You: yup getting ready for a date

Rafe looks up from his screen, disappointment wrapping around him like a heavy blanket he can’t shake off.

His stomach sinks hard. Harder than it did the other night at the ABC party when he heard you were upstairs with Blake.

You’re slipping away from him. Anger pools in his stomach but he tries to act casual, teasing you like he always does.

Rafe: who tf would date you lol

You roll your eyes at the text.

You: people with taste… jerk

Rafe: just kidding

You: hate u

Blake pulls up in front of the dorm building ten minutes late, apologizing profusely for his timing. You laugh and forgive him, sliding into his car to see he got you a bouquet of flowers.

He takes you to a restaurant off-campus, pulling out your chair. You sit across from him, taking in the way he’s sitting up straight.

“You look cute,” he says.

“Thanks. You clean up nice, too,” you say. “Compared to the plastic bags you were in the last time I saw you.”

Blake’s smile is big, his laugh gentle.

“You have fun at the party?” he asks.

“I did.” And after it in Rafe’s dorm.

“Cool,” he replies. You nod, looking down at the menu. The way conversation between you moves reminds you of your study date. It’s not painfully awkward, but it’s not seamless.

You figure it’s nerves.

When your food arrives, Blake takes a picture of the table. Once you start eating, your discussion starts to flow a little easier, making jokes and pulling from topics you’ve discussed over the phone since you started texting.

Blake’s a gentleman, parking to walk you up to your door after he drives you home. His hand ghosts over your shoulder as you walk through the hallway, his touch warm.

When you stop in front of your door, Rafe can hear you talking. He saw Blake’s Instagram story. It was just a photo of food at a restaurant, but it doesn’t take a genius to know he was with you. The date you had was with him.

“You really liked the food?” Blake asks you for the third time. You chuckle at his nervousness.

“You picked well,” you reassure. “And thanks for the flowers.”

How original, Rafe thinks. He got you flowers.

A group of fellow residents pass by laughing. If Blake tries to kiss you, you probably won’t like it in such a public space.

“That was fun,” you say, stepping back a little, hoping he gets the hint that this isn’t the place to make a move.

“It was. Oh, we’re going to the beach on Saturday,” Blake tells you. “Not everyone, just a few of us. Bring Liv. Between you and me, Sam likes her.”

“Yeah?” you say with a laugh. “Sure. That sounds fun. I’ll invite her, too.”

“Great,” he replies, nodding.

“Good night,” you say. Blake gives you a tight grin and echoes the sentiment, stepping back to give you the space to open your door.

Rafe finds a text Sam sent him a few hours ago.

Sam: you alive?

Rafe hasn’t been to the frat house since the party last Saturday night. To be honest, he’s not sure how he can handle being around Blake. He can’t exactly lose his temper on his brother. His future at the frat will be shot.

But he wants to be at the beach if you’ll be there.

Rafe: yes lol whats the move this weekend

Thankfully, Sam mentions the beach plan Rafe overheard about. Maybe he loves to torture himself. Or maybe he just wants to take every opportunity to see you.

You pull up to the beach in Liv’s car on Saturday. The boys picked a good day to swim. It feels like a heat wave.

When you find the group of six guys, you’re happy to see that Rafe is one of them. He’s in his swim shorts, his baseball hat on backwards like usual.

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” you say when he notices you. “Gross.”

“Shut up,” Rafe says with a smirk, flipping you off. He takes in how good you look in your dress, eager to see the bikini underneath. “Why the hell did you come? Brothers only.”

“Am I not basically one of you now?” you say, leaning over to greet Blake with a side-hug. Rafe’s smile disappears and he looks away.

Blake hands you a bottle of flavored seltzer and you look down at it, cocking your head, trying to figure out how to kindly turn it down. It’s the same flavor of spiked juice you drank last night.

“She doesn’t like that flavor,” Rafe mutters.

Blake meets his gaze, pulling the drink back towards his chest.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. Funny enough, you actually mentioned not liking it on your date when you were swapping hangover stories. He looks at you. “I knew that. Sorry.”

“All good,” you chuckle. “What else you got?”

Blake leads you to the large cooler in the sand and you steal a glance at Rafe, whose jaw is clenched tight.

As the afternoon goes on, you realize Blake is less nervous talking to you when other people are around.

The eight of you play a game of beach volleyball. Rafe considers Blake lucky that he’s on the same team as him. He’d whip the ball at him every chance he got if he were on the other side of the net.

At one point, Sam serves it so hard that you have to duck onto the sand, the ball bouncing off your arm, leaving a stinging feeling.

“You trying to kill her?” Liv scolds her teammate. You feel a hand cupping your forearm.

“You good?” You look up to see Rafe leaning over you, his voice deep.

“Yeah,” you say. Rafe is pissed off beyond belief that Blake is just standing there like an idiot, watching you instead of making sure you’re okay.

“You alright?” Blake asks from his place on the court in front of you.

“Yellow card worthy,” you joke, getting up on your feet.

When the game wraps up after you all decided to stop keeping score ages ago, Blake approaches you, looking down at you with a shy smile.

“You wanna swim?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say.

The water is so cold that it feels sharp, leaving you and Blake to laugh together with every step into the sea.

Rafe is sitting in the sand with his buddies, watching Blake’s hand find yours. The view makes his stomach turn.

It seems natural between you two, the way you touch, the way you splash each other and laugh together.

He gets the same feeling he did the night of the mixer party, when he felt like his anxiety over losing you wasn’t just because he was losing great, casual sex. It’s not only that. It’s more. And that fact makes him uncomfortable.

But that shit just doesn’t come naturally to Rafe. Affection is like a foreign language to him. He’s not into the boyfriend stuff solely because he doesn’t want to do it. It’s also because he can’t. He doesn’t know how to.

Buying flowers, planning dates… he’d feel totally lost. He can’t compete with Blake. Like Rafe always says, doing something serious like dating in college is a waste of time. Maybe he believes that because he didn’t think he’d meet someone like you. And because he doesn’t want to fail at it.

You and Blake stop when you figure you’re deep enough in the water, the sand soft beneath you, the sun shining down.

“I keep messing up today,” he says.

“What?” He looks down, shaking his head, lips twisting adorably. These cute, little moments remind you of why you have a crush on him.

“Can I kiss you?” Blake asks.

You smirk, relieved that you can finally do this and feel if your physical chemistry is there like you think it is.

When Rafe sees two figures join in the distance, his heart drops.

(part nine)

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 2 months

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Let me just say, I absolutely adore your writing so much!! Your More Than Anything series with Vox is honestly one of, if not my favorite Vox series!!!❤💙 I was wondering if you could do a kind of silly, fluffy imagine with Vox where they're in their early stages of flirting/crushing and the reader avoids the topic of kissing... because they think Vox isn't able to kiss with his screen? Literally before episode 8, the question in my mind was "Can the dorky TV man kiss?" And then we got confirmation he most DEFINITELY could 🤣 I just think it'd be so cute and funny for that to be something the reader was wondering as well but wasn't sure how to ask him about it without being weird lol

Oh my goodness, such high praise aaaa! I actually have a scene in my Ao3 fic based on the same concept! I'd be happy to write some awkward smoochums! This guy is such a fucking dork and I love him.

Assumptions [Vox x Reader Fluff]

You and Vox had been dating for a month and the overlord was on the verge of insanity. He knew that Valentino had much more intense needs when it came to physical affection than most, but he wasn't expecting such a drastic shift in needs when it came to you.

He knew that being in a real relationship was very different from what he'd experienced before with his fellow overlord. But he thought the two of you would have done something by now. Not even necessarily sex. (Although he'd definitely been fantasizing about that more than he cared to admit.)

The two of you had cuddled, slept in the same bed, and even h*ld h*nds, but you hadn't kissed yet and it wasn't for his lack of trying. He'd invited you on romantic dates and set up several perfect opportunities. But whenever he'd try to go for it, you'd always pull away before he had the chance.

He didn't understand. The two of you had been doing so well. You always seemed to be swept up in the little heated moments just as much as he was, so why?!

Vox had been completely distracted during his entire news segment and groaned as slipped into his secluded dressing room. If it wasn't for the fact that he caught sight of you in his mirror, he probably would have flipped out when he felt your arms slip around him from behind.

"What are you doing here?" he chuckled as he lifted a hand to rest on one of your arms.

"I missed you," you smile, squeezing him gently before letting go. "And I saw that..." you cringe. "Performance. You seemed off. Is something on your mind?"

Vox's eyes widened and he cursed himself mentally for putting on a subpar show in front of the camera. If you noticed, then the audience probably did as well. No one really gave half a fuck about the news, but ratings were ratings.

"It's nothing," Vox muttered. "It's just..."

He looks up at you with an unreadable expression and you gasp as he reaches up and gently takes hold of your chin. His brow furrows as he tucks your hair behind your ear and your heart races a million miles per second as he searches your blushing face for something. His eyes flick down to your lips and he slowly starts to lean, only for you to suddenly push him away.

"A-Anyways I just wanted to check in on you and see if we were still on for a movie tonight," you stammered.

Vox froze, not listening to your ramblings as he processed your deflection. He felt a sharp, cold sting of rejection in his chest and wondered if maybe you weren't as interested in the relationship as he hoped. His heart started to break, but then he noticed the way you were blushing.

"Why?" He asked quietly.

"Well, I just thought maybe you wanted to-"

"No," Vox grit his teeth as he grabbed you by the shoulders. "Why the fuck won't you kiss me? Every time I try, you pull away. We're dating, so why?"

You blinked up at him owlishly, your jaw hanging open before you grabbed his arms and breathed, "You can kiss?!"

Vox's brow furrowed as he looked you over, "Wh- The fuck are you on about? Yes, I can fucking kiss! I've been trying to kiss you for the past three goddamn weeks!"

You gasped before burying your face in your hands and groaning. "Oh my god, I thought... There were a couple times that I wondered, but this whole time I didn't think you could and I didn't want to be weird and..."

Vox stood taller as he processed your words. You didn't hate him. You weren't repulsed by him. You were just...

He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he absolutely lost it. "O-Oh my god! You're such a fucking idiot!"

Your face was burning with embarrassment. You knew he wasn't being malicious, but you were still mortified at the misunderstanding. "Oh shut up! It's not my fault you're a flat-faced fucker!"

You were about to go bury your shame into the couch, fully expecting him to hold this against you for the rest of the day, but you were barely able to take two steps before Vox intervened.

You let out a startled yelp as you felt his claws wrap around your arm and yank you back. In the split second it took you to blink, he'd trapped you against a wall. You flinched as his hands slammed against either side of your head, trapping you as he grinned down at you.

"You are so fucking stupid," he snickered.

Your face only grew warmer as your heart pounded with mixed anger, embarrassment, and something else entirely due to the position he had you in. His hand traces lightly over your cheek before cupping the side of your face as he looks at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen from him.

You gasp as he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your entire body feels like tiny fireworks are dancing lightly over your skin. You shiver as your hands instinctively reach up to grasp at his vest when he pulls you close.

You're both breathing much harder than is necessary when he pulls away. For a moment you just look at each other with half-lidded gazes as you process the sparks that just metaphorically and literally flew. You were pretty sure a bulb went out due to the little bits of blue energy that sparked off of your boyfriend during the kiss.

Speaking of your dork, Vox breathlessly grinned as he squeezed your arms. He let out a small laugh before stepping away from you and turning as more little sparks flew.

"Fucking finallyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Vox yelled as he pumped his arms in the air and kicked his legs like a giddy child.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

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spookyserenades · 11 days

Text

Trouvaille - Chapter Sixteen (M)

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 20.5k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Heyyyy besties LOL! Prepare yourselves! This chapter is definitely my spiciest yet, so hold onto your seats (and don't look at me LOL I'm Seokjin thirsty). Besides that, though, we have domestic moments, and GHOSTBUSTING WOO HOO! I hope you all enjoy this and don't hate me for being thirsty. Love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading!

As an additional warning/reminder, for the smut: the scene is explicit, and is only intended to be read by those over the age of 18. Please practice safe sex, and readers please have discretion!

Previous Chapter

Suddenly, all of the sounds of the city faded into oblivion. Cars rushing by passed in colored blurs, romantic music flooding out from restaurants filled with couples celebrating Valentine’s Day dimmed to a hum, and all Y/N could focus on, or even register, were the clumps of powdery snow beginning to gather on Seokjin’s long, straight lashes. His fiery eyes were shifting back and forth, assessing the expression on her face, his sleek black tail curling self-consciously around his waist. Y/N’s brain was scrambling for any kind of coherent response, Seokjin’s grip on her hands going slack once the seconds stretched on.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Seokjin whispered sadly, to himself. It was that statement that had Y/N snapping out of her state of shock.

“Jin–” Y/N exclaimed, but Seokjin had let her go, turning slightly and trudging away, his hand tightening around the handles of the shopping bag. “Wait, honey!”

“We should head back to the car, it’s getting cold with the snow,” Seokjin’s voice sounded thick, like his throat was closing up, making Y/N hiss and lurch forward, catching him by his felt coat. Promptly, he halted, though he wouldn’t turn around to face her.

“Actually, we should talk,” Y/N managed, pulling Seokjin along desperately, yanking him up the stairs of the church they were in front of and pushing the two of them inside the warm building.

The place was lit up, but mercifully empty, and Y/N assumed the priests were in the back of the building, a separate room, where they kept vestments– Jeongguk had been telling her about various aspects of Christianity and the architecture of churches during their hours of reviewing tapes for the Sanders’ case with Namjoon. Huffing, she towed her jaguar hybrid to the enclosed room at the front of the church’s entrance, the one with a window facing altar; the space was intended for parents with crying children to sit in so as not to disturb Mass. Y/N thought it was as good of a place as any to have a private conversation without freezing their asses off in the snow.

“W-why are we here?” Seokjin still wouldn’t turn his face to hers, instead choosing to studiously stare out the window, fixing his eyes on the elaborate wooden pulpit.

“Seokjin, look at me,” Y/N requested gently, tugging the fabric of his coat lightly to encourage him.

Stiffening, Seokjin swallowed, his ears still pressed flat against his wavy head of black hair, chewing on his lip as he finally looked her in the eyes once more. Heart clenching seeing the aching vulnerability on his face, she took the bag of their purchases from Eataly from his hand, placing it on one of the chairs behind them.

“You don’t have to let me down gently, Y/N…” Seokjin uttered quietly, and despite herself, Y/N was rolling her eyes while her back was to him.

“Seokjin, will you just hear me out for a few minutes?” Y/N replied, trying to compose herself despite the way she was nearly ready to pounce on Seokjin. “Don’t shut down on me like that.”

Seokjin remained quiet, his throat bobbing when she faced him again, Y/N sighing and wondering how the hell to explain to him her feelings, not only for him, but for the rest of his housemates. It had her head swimming, and the strong scent of church incense wasn’t helping.

“You… said you loved me?” Y/N wanted to confirm, Seokjin’s neck turning an even deeper shade of red, but he nodded slightly nonetheless. His tail was still curled around his waist.

“Ever since my birthday. Probably even before then,” Seokjin admitted, Y/N’s heart beginning to race in her chest, one of Seokjin’s ears fluttering at the sound.

“Oh,” Y/N squeaked, watching Seokjin trying to not look crestfallen.

“I had to tell you. I couldn’t keep it hidden any longer, especially after tonight,” Seokjin continued, one of his hands coming up to rub at his bicep. “Even though… you and Yoongi.”

Time stopped, space ceased to exist. All that mattered to her in those seconds was Seokjin, and his undiluted earnesty was palpable. Nothing could stop Y/N from opening her mouth impulsively, at that point.

“I think I fell in love with you on Halloween,” Y/N blurted loudly, Seokjin’s jaw dropping open in pure shock, her voice echoing in the empty room and emphasizing the ferociousness in her tone. “Seeing you with the kids, handing out candy. Or maybe it was that night you held me after Tae and Joon’s fight.”

“What?” Seokjin breathed, a combination of elation and confusion taking over his expression.

“I fell in love with Yoongi when he offered to teach me piano,” Y/N couldn’t help the word vomit pouring from her mouth, figuring if anything, she could confess all of her feelings to Seokjin, and maybe he’d get where she was coming from. “Jeongguk and Joon when they helped me with the spirit, that day outside when we did the cleansing ritual, I knew I loved them. I fell for Hoseok when I realized he was the glue holding us together.”

Understanding dawned on Seokjin as she spilled her guts to him, but all he did was reach for her hands, a tender look in his eyes so sweet Y/N nearly began to weep. Honestly, she could have been weeping, but she couldn’t stop her speech as Seokjin held her.

“Seeing Jimin wear his expressions so earnestly, innocently, and Taehyung’s trust in me, his love for our home…” Y/N shuddered when Seokjin pulled her in for a hug, her face pressed against the front of his coat, and palms stroking up and down her back to soothe. “I’m in love with you all, I can’t help it, but I do. I love you, Seokjin, so, so much.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but his chest began to vibrate with purrs, simply holding her as Y/N took a few moments to breathe, initially not coming to the conclusion that saying all of that out loud would end up being such an emotional release for her. Physically, she felt lighter once she admitted all of that to Seokjin, but she was nervous about how he was taking the news that she had feelings for 6 others.

“You really love me? You mean it?” Seokjin broke the silence, his hands shaking as he pushed lightly on her shoulders so he could look at her face, his ears finally perked up after being pressed flat to his head for so long.

Grasping one of his wrists, Y/N maintained eye-contact as she pressed his palm over her heart, no doubt beating rapidly even underneath her thick coat. A small exhale came from Seokjin, Y/N craning her head upwards to scan his face, not wanting to keep him in the lurch any longer.

“Of course I mean it,” Y/N whispered, her free hand curling in the material of his coat, feeling tears gather along her lash line. “You have my heart.”

Seokjin chuckled, the sound watery, and Y/N felt his hands still trembling as they moved to cup her face, thumbs tracing over her cheekbones with reverence. She shivered, sliding her hands up his chest to rest over his heart, beating wildly, drowning in the scent of his eucalyptus body wash.

“I–” Seokjin swallowed, his own eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can I kiss you?”

Heart stopping altogether, her eyelids fluttered as she felt his shaky hands still cradling her face, so gently she could hardly feel the touch.

“Yes,” Y/N replied eagerly, her voice barely coming out at all, transfixed by the way Seokjin looked at her with complete adoration. “Please.”

Slowly, like time had been suspended, she watched Seokjin duck his head, his eyelids growing heavy as he nudged the tip of his nose against hers, Y/N unable to shut her eyes as his beautiful face neared closer than ever. Sucking in a tiny breath, she melted against his broad chest, fingers sliding into the close-cropped hair at the nape of his neck. When Seokjin’s eyes closed, she kept hers open a fraction, only for stars to explode in her vision once his voluminous lips landed on hers.

Immediately making a noise of delight, Y/N sank into Seokjin, not caring that they were in public, or a church, for that matter. The press of his mouth was impossibly sweet, loving, Y/N nearly groaning as his lower lip slipped against the seam of her mouth. While the kiss was chaste, Seokjin’s thumbs still tenderly caressing her cheekbones, it had her insides igniting, angling her head so Seokjin could work his mouth against hers more deeply. Her lungs were burning for oxygen all too soon, Y/N refusing to break the lock of their lips, but unfortunately, her jaguar hybrid sensed her need to breathe, and his perfect lips slid from hers sensually.

Before she could speak, her hands still in his hair, Seokjin began stamping kisses all over her face, like he had the last time he scented her. The purrs coming from his chest grew in volume when she sighed in bliss, Seokjin’s hands moving to cup her neck while he brushed a kiss over her jaw bone.

“I love you, I love you…” Seokjin breathed, his warm breath washing over the side of her neck, Y/N nearly passing out in his strong arms. “My Y/N. My pretty girl, I love you…”

“S-seokjin. Mmm,” Y/N attempted to speak, though the distraction of him mouthing over the slope of her throat was overwhelming. “You, uh? Know– that I, um. Love the others, too? Does it bother you?”

Seokjin paused, pressing one last kiss underneath her earlobe, his arms wrapping around her waist securely. His warmth consumed her, and the way he held her felt like she was being cherished– her own arms wound around his wide shoulders in retribution.

“There’s nothing you could do or say that would change how I feel,” Seokjin said firmly, Y/N shivering at the finality in his tone. “I just… I didn’t think you loved me the way I love you. I had hope when we had lunch with Hannah, but…”

“Yoongi,” Y/N finished for him, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“Does he?” Seokjin probed cautiously, running his hands through her hair, seemingly not able to get enough of touching her so freely.

“Know? Yeah,” Y/N blushed, the whole situation so complicated, she hardly knew how it came to be in the first place. “He knows I love you. All of you.”

Seokjin rested his chin on the top of her head, humming contentedly as he held her. All she wanted in that moment was to remain in his embrace, soaking in his comforting presence, but all too soon he was drawing away, his eyes sparkling and lips a tad swollen from their kiss.

“I think we should head home. We scandalized the priests,” Seokjin nodded to the window, Y/N’s face on fire when she realized indeed, two young priests were gawking at them from behind the glass, and both of them hurriedly returned to arranging pamphlets in the pews.

With that, her and Seokjin giggling the entire way, they left the church, Y/N waving apologetically to the priests while Seokjin grabbed onto her free hand. Y/N didn’t have time to think about what would happen when they got home, but because she swore to herself that she wouldn’t hide information from the others anymore, she wasn’t about to sneak around with Seokjin like she had with Yoongi.

Outside, it was still snowing, but tucked closely into Seokjin’s side, she hardly felt the cold. His arm was around her waist, hand entwined with hers, tucked into her coat pocket. The walk back to the parking garage wasn’t long, but it took twenty minutes– Seokjin stopping occasionally for a kiss amongst the snow storm, his lips melting against hers.

“Got the bag?” Y/N jumped out of the car, glancing at their lit-up house in front of her, chewing her lip nervously.

It wasn’t too late in the evening, so Y/N knew that everyone was probably still up, snacking on their Valentine candy and watching TV, perhaps. Namjoon’s van wasn’t running, surprisingly, so neither he nor Jeongguk were hanging out in there. Seokjin appeared from around the car, the bag of ingredients and recipes in hand, a sweet smile stretched across his face.

Someone flicked on the porch light, most likely Namjoon, who kept quite the canine watch over the front door, especially at night. Clearing her throat, she gestured for Seokjin to head up the porch steps, following closely behind and praying the wolf hybrid wouldn’t immediately sniff out that her and Seokjin’s relationship dynamic had shifted significantly. The jaguar hybrid opened the front door, letting Y/N in first, locking up behind her promptly– if he didn’t, Namjoon would have had a stroke seeing the deadbolt pulled back.

The house was toasty, and judging by the scent, Yoongi had made his popular roasted chicken for dinner for everyone that was left at home. She was blushing as Seokjin unzipped her coat for her, shucking it off and hanging it in the closet, the sounds of the TV from the parlor indicating that a few of the hybrids were hanging out in there.

“You’re back,” Yoongi appeared from the kitchen, leaning against the threshold with a dish rag in his hand. “I thought I’d have to call a cab for you two.”

“No, we took a walk to digest the wine before I got behind the wheel,” Y/N replied, Yoongi smirking when Seokjin was fussing over lint on her sweater from her coat, his fingertips skimming her arms and sides and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Hope there’s leftover chicken for my lunch tomorrow!”

“You know there isn’t, even without you and Jin eating your fill,” Yoongi scoffed, flicking long hair out of his face. The front of his white tee-shirt was damp from doing dishes, the material clinging to the muscles of his lower abdomen. “Here, let me take that.”

Yoongi sprung forward, taking the Eataly bag from Seokjin, and Y/N didn’t miss the way Yoongi subtly sniffed in her direction, his expression turning sly as he returned to the kitchen with the swish of his spotted tail. Stiffening, knowing that Yoongi could probably detect Seokjin’s scent all over her, as well as her uneasy expression, Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose.

“How the hell are we going to break the news without me suffering from a heart attack?” Y/N sighed, shivering when Seokjin cupped the nape of her neck, stroking the sides of her throat, Y/N blinking up at him from her spot in front of the jaguar hybrid, unease heighting when she saw the mischief on his face. “What are you–”

“I LOVE Y/N!” Seokjin suddenly hollered at the top of his lungs, Y/N flinching a foot in the air, both because she never heard Seokjin speak so loudly, and the words that came from his mouth. “SHE LOVES ME BACK!”

Cringing, Y/N supposed that was one way to do it, Seokjin bending suddenly and picking Y/N up by her waist, spinning her around like a giant goober. While her world was turning, dizzying up her head, she caught Jeongguk and the shape of his antlers, poking his head over the bannister from upstairs with a hand pressed over his mouth and his shoulders shaking. Prick.

Hoseok barreled into the foyer from the parlor, half of a Twizzler hanging out of his mouth, clever eyes round and filled with joy.

“No way. You told her!?” Hoseok fist-bumped the air, whistling his three-note tone, russet tail swinging merrily. Y/N’s jaw was loose, the idea that Seokjin had been discussing his feelings for her with Hoseok hard to fathom.

Namjoon’s door cracked open a few inches, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he glanced out into the hall, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Despite the news, his gaze went straight to the front door, making sure it was locked up, his half-bitten ear fluttering in satisfaction.

“Didn’t strike me as the polyamorous type, kiddo,” Jeongguk slouched down the stairs, tattoos on both his arms exposed with the muscle tee he was wearing. “You on the other hand, Pink Panther, you should work on subtlety.”

Embarrassed by the jab from Jeongguk, an amused glitter in his black eyes, Y/N shot him a withering glare, very aware of Seokjin still holding her mid-air like a child.

“Yo, Yoongi! You have competition!” Hoseok shouted in the direction of the kitchen, the leopard hybrid popping into the hall and giving Hoseok the finger.

“Foxy, I’ve never heard a voice as grating as yours, let alone known someone to flap their gums so much,” Yoongi seethed, though his expression softened when he looked at Y/N. The silent exchange between the two was, as always, supernatural, the uneven set of Yoongi’s mouth almost telling her congratulations. “Leave Y/N alone, you’re embarrassing her.”

Hoseok finished chewing his Twizzler, still staring at Seokjin proudly, Y/N tapping on Seokjin’s shoulders for him to put her down sheepishly. Seokjin, reluctantly, lowered her to the floor, glee still plain as day on his face.

“You guys could have a thr—” Hoseok was cut off when Yoongi used the dish rag he was still holding to smack the back of the fox hybrid’s head, even Seokjin offering Hoseok a low, feral growl. “Nevermind! I’ll butt out! Y/N, come watch Step Brothers with me!”

Hoseok, quick to recover from the sharp whack of the towel, his hand massaging his scalp with a wince, gestured towards the parlor, winking at Y/N merrily. Y/N snorted, hoping that the shameful spark of enticement that struck through her at that idea was undetected by the hybrids in the foyer. Jeongguk was calling Hoseok a ‘dirty goddamn pervert’ before retreating outside for a smoke.

Casting a look upstairs, Y/N noticed Taehyung’s door ajar, the Kodiak hybrid’s head of dark curly hair visible. Too far away to gauge his reaction, Y/N hoped that he wasn’t upset, even though Seokjin had cut right to the chase, declared their mutual affection, and they weren’t sneaking around. She felt immensely awkward, between Yoongi and Hoseok still bickering, Taehyung watching from upstairs, and Namjoon’s disinterested retreat back into his bedroom.

“Wanna go watch the movie with me?” Y/N put her focus on Seokjin, unwilling to part with him just yet, and truthfully, missing Hoseok like a lost limb. “I can stay up for a bit longer before I head to bed for work tomorrow.”

“Mmm-hm,” Seokjin easily agreed, the peeved look on his face disappearing when Y/N reached for his hand. Before they left for the parlor, Y/N addressed Yoongi, who was heading back into the kitchen, murmuring something about “fuckin’ fox”.

“Hey, angel. Any idea where Jimin is?” Y/N tried to pay no mind to Seokjin pressing on the vulnerable skin of the inside of her wrist with his thumb, Yoongi humming and leaning forward, kissing her cheekbone with a featherlight ghost of his lips.

“His room, showering. Can’t you hear the noisy-ass pipes?” Yoongi replied, jutting his chin forward in the direction of Jimin’s room down the hall. “Don’t worry. Every hybrid in a two mile radius heard Seokjin’s declaration.”

“Ass,” Y/N muttered, narrowly dodging the dish towel he twisted up to level a smack to her behind, Seokjin growling gutturally and tugging Y/N towards the parlor, ignoring Yoongi’s amused snickers.

Hoseok was already comfortable on the recliner, the movie queued up, snacking on his Twizzlers with a wry smirk on his face, staring pointedly at her and Seokjin’s intertwined fingers. Resisting the urge to wipe that smirk off his face with her mouth, Y/N squeaked when Seokjin yanked on her hand, the jaguar hybrid plopping down on the couch with her in tow. Somehow, she found her legs draped over his lap, her back leaning on the armrest and his hands running up and down her calves indulgently. It seemed Seokjin was resuming his touchiness, and that time around, he jacked up the intensity to one thousand.

Hoseok simply played the movie, like her and Seokjin sitting like that was completely ordinary, Y/N finding herself a little tense with the intimacy of the position she was in. However, as seconds ticked by and Seokjin’s fingertips massaged her skin vigorously, she was melting into the couch, eyes already heavy with sleep. Over the noise of the movie, Seokjin’s content purrs lulled her to sleep, and the next time she had consciousness was when she felt him gather her in his arms and carry her to her bedroom.

“I think we’re going to schedule the investigation for Monday, do you think that will work?” Y/N was in the process of stacking a new batch of Labradorite onto the crystal table at the shop, Judy helping her with her silver bangles jangling.

“You’ll have to give Erika a call, and I’ll book the hotel that the family will stay in overnight,” Judy replied, blowing sandy hair out of her face.

Y/N had about one million things going on in her life at that point, but prioritizing the investigation was at the near top of the list. First, of course, was Hoseok’s birthday that upcoming Saturday, and Y/N had finally managed to plan what they were doing after squeezing it out of him. That aside, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Jimin in 24 hours, the coyote hybrid was already outside with the horses before she went to work that morning, so Y/N had no idea what he thought of her and Seokjin yet. Taehyung, at least, was present for her early breakfast with Yoongi, and didn’t appear upset at all, which had her and Yoongi exchanging secret looks of pure disbelief.

“Y/N? Did you hear me?” Judy snapped her out of her thoughts, a kind smile on her face when Y/N realized she was staring blankly at a slab of rose quartz.

“O-oh, no, I’m so sorry. I have a lot on my mind, my bad,” Y/N stuttered, Judy nodding while adjusting the way a sphere of Labradorite was sitting in a shallow bowl, so the flash of blue in the crystal was sparkling just right. “What did you say?”

“Not to worry, Y/N. I was just asking about your hybrids… that reading I gave you many months ago. Have you seen any truth in it?”

It was common for Judy to speak like that, as if she didn’t have psychic ability, but it didn’t bother Y/N at all. In fact, she preferred Judy’s way of going about divination rather than her mother’s tactic of going behind her back or blurting out her random premonitions without warning.

“I…” Y/N fumbled with the box in front of her, accidentally dropping the rose quartz point she was holding. “I took some notes, like you suggested. I was able to connect the cards to each of them.”

“Really?” Judy exclaimed, excitement lighting up her green eyes, though the tug at the corner of her mouth told Y/N her boss knew as much.

“Considering my boy’s pasts, when you gave me that reading at the time, I was sort of against the idea of entertaining any kind of romance between us. I wanted them to feel safe enough to start living their lives how they wanted. But I couldn’t help…”

“Falling?” Judy raised an eyebrow, her smile kind and sincere.

“Yeah, more like I hurtled myself off the cliff of no return,” Y/N joked, thoughts going to Seokjin, who sent her off that morning with dozens of kisses peppered across her cheeks. She thought of Yoongi, who got up extra early to make more chicken for her lunch. How Taehyung would snap pictures of her when she wasn’t looking, Namjoon’s thoughtful nightly book recommendations.

“Good to know that my readings are still accurate,” Judy was amused, placing another crystal on the table with a chuckle. “That’s why you’ve been so chipper these days. A couple of months ago you seemed very stressed out.”

“I’m still figuring things out. Two of them reciprocate my feelings, so far,” Y/N mumbled quietly, somehow finding it nice to confide in her boss. Her mother would be way too excited to talk about her and the boys.

“Is one of them part of our new investigation team?” Judy got to her feet, dusting off her maxi skirt. “That wolf hybrid seemed quite protective of you that day you brought him here in August.”

Y/N blinked, thinking back to that day– it was the first day she even spoke to Namjoon, the day she brought him home. She shook her head quickly, a pang in her chest, remembering his stoic indifference towards her relationships with Yoongi and Seokjin.

“No, he’s not one of them,” she replied, Judy chuckling once again.

“Stubborn, I remember that from the card I pulled for him.”

“Oh, not to change the subject, but speaking of Namjoon– my wolf hybrid, I mean,” Y/N joined Judy at the counter with the empty cardboard box from the kitchen, chewing her lip. “He’s interested in coming to work with me a few times a week. Would it be okay if I bring him next time I’m here?”

Judy helped her break down the cardboard box, nodding enthusiastically.

“That would be wonderful! We won’t have to haul in these crystal boxes anymore and break our backs. I take it he’s interested in your practice?”

“I think he just likes to get out of the house, and he’s a big reader. Honestly it’s our book collection here that interests him, most likely,” Y/N glanced at her watch, noting that it was time for her lunch break, mouth watering at the thought of Yoongi’s chicken. “He’ll be happy you said yes, thank you so much!”

Judy waved her off like ‘no problem’ heading to the back room. Typically, around lunch, Judy would leave Y/N at the shop and head home if she had no scheduled readings. According to the books, there was no one scheduled for services, so it was likely Judy was on her way out and Y/N would have to lock up later. Humming as she unpacked her lunch, she shot Namjoon a text.

Y/N: Judy says you can come to work with me whenever you want! 🥳

Joonie 🐺: Thanks for asking, I’ll come with you next week.

Namjoon wasn’t much of a texter, so she left it at that, grinning at her lockscreen as she closed it. She tended to rotate wallpapers, but currently, it was the picture of Jimin and Seokjin laughing at Hoseok being chased around by Bandit the rooster. Every time she saw it, it made her snort, her heart warming. Y/N flinched when she got a notification from her banking app, her direct deposit hitting her admittedly semi-drained account. Sighing with relief, as she had spent quite a bit of money on Hoseok’s upcoming birthday, she thought it was all worth it when she glanced at his smiling face on her lockscreen.

“We should go on a date,” Seokjin had his arms wrapped around her waist from behind while she was folding some laundry in her room, his tail winding around her leg and lips in her ear. She dropped the tank top she was holding in surprise, craning her neck so she could look at him.

“You wanna take me on a date, Seokjinnie?” Y/N cooed, prodding at his cheek teasingly. “Where do you want to go, honey?”

Seokjin pursed his lips as he thought, nestling his chin in the crook of her neck. Nearly swooning at how affectionate he had become in just two days, she felt his steady heartbeat flush against her back.

“We don’t even have to go anywhere, pretty. We can stay here, just do something special, the two of us,” Seokjin replied, her cheeks aflame when he called her pretty, but Y/N was reminded of Seokjin’s slight distaste for traveling, so she got what he was trying to say.

“I like the sound of that,” Y/N resumed folding her tank top, already cooking up some ideas for an at-home date for the two of them. “How about next Friday, the 24th. I’ll plan something for the two of us, okay?”

“Mmm,” Seokjin agreed, kissing her temple, regretfully pulling away from her and reaching for the laundry basket to help her out. “Only if you let me plan some things of my own for that night.”

“Of course, love,” Y/N giggled, but her laughter was cut short once she glanced at the jaguar hybrid, who was currently folding a pair of her lacy panties. “Oh my god. Let me fold that!”

Snatching the thong away from him, Y/N wanted to throw up from humiliation, but all Seokjin did was snort, retrieving another pair of panties from the laundry basket– to her mortification.

“You’re acting like I’ve never seen these before. Pretty, don’t you know that we’ve all been folding your underwear for months each time we have laundry duty?” Seokjin was ever so nonchalant, Y/N stupidly realizing that her panties didn’t magically appear in her dresser, when she wasn’t the one to pull them out of the dryer.

“Oh my god,” Y/N face-planted into her mattress, the realization like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head.

She pictured smug Jeongguk in the laundry room, hanging up one of her skimpy bralettes, or worse, utility-grade sports bras on the drying rack, nearly curling into herself in shame. Seokjin patted her back, barely containing his laughter, but all that did was make Y/N want to hide in a hole even more.

“Y/N, you wash our underwear every week, fold it, too. You bought us underwear, you know what they look like. Don’t be so embarrassed,” Seokjin hauled Y/N up by her elbows, clear humor written all over his face, Y/N unsure whether or not she enjoyed it when he teased her so much. “Ooh. I like these ones.”

Seokjin dangled a pair of baby pink panties in front of her face with his forefinger and thumb, the pair with a tiny bow on the waistline, the fabric a mixture of cotton and lace. Absolutely scandalized, Y/N felt both involuntary arousal and annoyance strike through her.

“Okay, now you’re fucking with me,” Y/N bat his hand out of her face, Seokjin’s squeaky laughter filling the room noisily. “Don’t be pervy, Seokjin. It doesn’t suit you!”

“Oh, no?” Seokjin cocked his head, his sleek black ears fluttering as his expression turned sly. “Shame…”

Y/N swore Seokjin’s eyes darkened, and she wondered what he meant by that, hurriedly grabbing her underwear from him and stuffing the garment into her dresser. She heard Seokjin snicker, but he mercifully stopped teasing her, moving on to fold a pair of her pajamas instead, biting his lip.

“Um, so what should we have for dinner tonight?” Y/N changed the subject, trying to block out sudden lewd thoughts surrounding her and Seokjin, her movements jittery.

Seokjin looked like he wanted her for dinner that night, but he managed to compose himself with his gorgeous smile, tucking her pajamas into her drawer beside her. She mentally dared him to make the innuendo that was no doubt floating around his head, but Seokjin didn’t– Y/N hardly knew if she was relieved or disappointed.

“Well, we got those steaks in the fridge Yoongi picked up from the butcher’s shop. Didn’t you show me a recipe for steak with some kind of bourbon sauce?”

“Oh, yeah, I could go for that,” Y/N’s mouth watered, already picturing her plate filled with meat, smashed potatoes, and maybe some crispy green beans.

Seokjin purred, closing up her dresser. Turning, Seokjin reached for her chin, Y/N’s heart pounding harshly in her chest, the jaguar hybrid looking down at her through his eyelashes. Tilting her face up, Seokjin’s hold on her firm but delicate, and involuntarily, her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips while Seokjin’s eyes narrowed as he followed the movement. She was staring at his mouth in a daze, saying huh when he spoke again, not hearing him the first time.

“I said, pretty,” Seokjin’s thumb pressed on her lower lip, his voice lilting and spellbinding like a siren. “If we make that, take it easy on the bourbon, okay? You got sick last time Jimin brought out the whiskey.”

“I forgot about that,” Y/N responded quietly, blush settling over her cheeks when she remembered how Seokjin had to hold her hair back while she spilled her guts into the toilet after one glass, his free hand soothingly rubbing her back when she heaved over the porcelain bowl. “Emb-barassing. At least you still loved me after that, hurling and crying hysterically… what a mess.”

“Hmm…” Seokjin strengthened the hold he had on her chin, his expression a combination of playfulness and reapproach, making her gut tighten. “What do you humans say when you get married? ‘In sickness and in health’?”

Jaw hanging loose, still not used to how deeply Seokjin felt for her, and she was at a loss as to what to say. Appearing smug, Seokjin kissed her forehead softly, continuing to speak when she had no reply.

“Remember, you took care of my fever when you adopted me? I was returning that gesture!”

“I love you,” was all Y/N could think of in response, feeling his tail wind around her waist sensually, Y/N leaning forward and up, capturing his lips in a surprise kiss, Seokjin freezing for a moment before he parted his mouth slightly, kissing her lower lip sweetly.

Seokjin had yet to kiss her in a way that was, well, more heated, but she loved the chaste, adoring kisses that he did offer her infinitely. She whimpered against his mouth when one of his hands landed on her lower back, pulling her closer into his embrace. Seokjin made his own noise of pleasure in response, one that had her stomach flipping over. Before she could deepen their kiss, like always, Seokjin pulled away, his pillowy lips shiny and red. Releasing the hold she had on him– fists curled into the material of his sweater, she pouted at the loss of contact, but Seokjin simply snorted through his nose and shook his head, his eyes sparkling.

“Let’s go, we still have to switch over the laundry before starting on dinner,” Seokjin let go of her, Y/N blinking away her desire, her pout growing deeper.

“Ugh, my muscles are sore. I don’t wanna go back upstairs,” Y/N complained, watching Seokjin scoop up the empty laundry basket, his face becoming contemplative as he assessed her, before he set the basket down again. “Judy had me schlepping in 30 pound boxes of crystals into the store all week.”

“Here, then,” Seokjin turned, bending slightly, motioning for her to get on his back with a cheeky grin. “I’ll carry you up.”

Normally, Y/N would have been embarrassed to take Seokjin up on the offer, but childlike glee welled up in herself instead– not even hesitating to jump on him with a giggle. Seokjin straightened up, adjusting his steady hold around the backs of her knees, giving her a piggyback ride up the stairs to the laundry room happily. Arms draped around her jaguar hybrid’s neck, elated, she indulged in a desire she had been holding onto for months– and planted a kiss on the side of his strong neck, Seokjin shivering beneath her.

Y/N watched Jeongguk lift a heavy box of gadgets into Namjoon’s van, the elk hybrid grunting with the weight of it, Y/N clicking her tongue at him. It may had had been a mistake to give him a bottomless budget to go crazy on ordering equipment, because he had enough of it to film an episode of Ghost Adventures and put Zak Bagans to shame. She supposed, however, that it made him happy and less bratty, and with just two days until the scheduled investigation, she noticed the elated difference in Jeongguk’s attitude.

“So,” Y/N began, hoping that the fact that he had a brand new set of electronics to mess with would loosen him up. “Hoseok’s birthday tonight. We’re all going to go out together, right?”

“Do I really have to spend the evening in a sweaty nightclub with a bunch of drunk and horny humans?” Jeongguk peered over his shoulder with a grimace, scratching one of his tapered ears.

“I spent almost a grand on a fucking table for eight, so yeah, you need to suck it up and put your leather pants on,” Y/N snapped, Jeongguk spinning around and staring at her with shock and contempt. “Seokjin doesn’t like loud noises or crowds and he still agreed to go for Hoseok.”

“Jesus wept, fine,” Jeongguk put his hands up, dark eyes round.

“You’ll have fun. Get wasted and listen to music, two of your favorite things to do,” Y/N soothed, smirking. Jeongguk rolled his eyes, returning to his task, fiddling with some kind of EMF detector that probably burnt a hole into her already slimmed-down wallet. “Where’s Joon?”

“Am I the wolf’s keeper or something?” Jeongguk raised his pierced brow, leaning his hip against the van and humming at the growing annoyance Y/N was feeling towards him. “Check the stable, he wanted to go for a walk, mentioned needing to talk to the coyote. Satisfied, kiddo?”

Muttering, she stormed away from him, peeved that he was laughing heartily at her tantrum. She wanted to similarly check in on Namjoon, who had yet to give a response to the idea of taking a limo and spending their Saturday night in a club for Hoseok. Positive that Namjoon had never stepped foot in a place like the club she had booked, she wanted to show him a few pictures so he’d have an idea of what he’d be walking into.

A couple of weeks prior, she cornered Hoseok, hugging him around his waist and refusing to let go until he picked out what he wanted to do for his birthday. Finally, he agreed to go out to the club, his cheeks red with embarrassment, but Y/N was relieved he told her so she could book a table in advance. The fox hybrid, the morning of his birthday, went out for his long-distance Saturday run, so she didn’t get to see much of him during the afternoon. No doubt, before they left, Hoseok would spend quite a bit of time getting showered and dressed for the occasion.

Wrapping her coat more tightly around her body, she had the stable in sight, the sound of chickens clucking within their coop, a layer of snow collected on the roof of the building. It was likely that Namjoon and Jimin heard and smelled her approach, but she hoped that she caught them off-guard, secretly. Those two particular hybrids were friendly towards each other, but it struck her as odd that Namjoon would have something in specific to discuss with the coyote hybrid.

Pausing by the stable door and peering around it cautiously, she spotted Jimin kneeling besides what appeared to be the early stages of the garden bed constructions, sawdust covering his jeans while he pointed at something. Neither of them glanced her way, Namjoon standing with his back to her, his arms crossed over his chest. Straining her ears, she was able to eavesdrop, astounded that neither of them caught her scent yet.

“–yeah, this smaller one here is for herbs, if that’s what you mean,” Jimin was saying, his sandy tail swishing against the ground.

“Do you think it’s big enough?” Namjoon had skepticism painting his tone.

“Why, you don’t think so? Y/N wanted a small one for cooking herbs,” Jimin was chewing on his lip, light eyebrows pulled together.

“Can you do another medium-sized one? I’ve been doing some research on the types of herbs she’d be able to grow during the summer in this area, there’s quite a few. That way she’ll have a bigger variety for her practice, and we can keep the culinary herbs separate,” Namjoon requested, Y/N clasping a hand over her mouth, blown away that Namjoon would do something so nice for her without her knowing.

“Yeah, I can do that, I have enough extra plywood,” Jimin seemed just as stunned as Y/N, his yellow eyes wide, straightening up and sticking his hands into the pockets of his blue jeans. “You’re going tonight, right?”

“You think I’m going to let Y/N waltz into a nightclub without me? Human men are fucking disgusting. She needs us all,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N feeling like her head was swimming. “Besides the humans, drugging and assaulting each other, Hoseok is going to cut loose, so will some of the others, so it’s important someone stays relatively sober. That’s why I’m mad at the kid right now, not wanting to tag along.”

“You mean Jeongguk? I think he’ll go, too. He seems like a tough son of a bitch, but he thinks similarly to you. Isn’t that why you’re close? Isn’t that why he was the only one able to calm you down… that night?”

Namjoon’s chest rumbled, his ears turning downwards at the mention of the night he and Taehyung had their altercation.

“I don’t like to think of that night,” Namjoon replied quietly, the constant sway of his tail stilling somberly. “Regardless, I don’t give a shit how Jeongguk feels, I don’t care if I have to drag him by his antlers to the club. He’s going.”

“Y/N spent a lot of money on Hoseok for this,” Jimin scratched his chin sympathetically, strolling to the stack of plywood, his steel-toed boots echoing around the lofty stable. “If he doesn’t go, he’ll make a lot of new enemies around here.”

“Dramatic phrasing,” Namjoon snickered, though as he moved for the first time Y/N had been spying on them, his mouth was in a thin line, evidently agreeing with Jimin. “I wouldn’t say enemies, but between Yoongi, the bear, and Seokjin, grudges would be made.”

Jimin made a noncommittal noise of agreement, Y/N beginning to feel guilty for eavesdropping, and her head was about to explode from the apparent concern Namjoon and Jimin had for her. Y/N was so wrapped up in her own feelings and care for the boys, she forgot to realize that they might hold her well-being in high regard as well.

Backing up a few steps as quietly as she could, she made some clumsy human noises, skipping into the stable like she hadn’t heard anything. She was proud of herself for not giving herself away with a lovestruck look plastered on her face, the fur on Namjoon’s tail standing on end when she barreled into the building, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Hi guys, whatcha up to?” Y/N asked innocently, Jimin blinking and dropping the piece of plywood he was holding.

“Just talking about the garden beds,” Namjoon recovered smoothly, in stark contrast to Jimin’s attempts to seem nonchalant. “What time are we leaving tonight?”

“Ooh, Joonie, you’re going to come?” Y/N continued to play stupid, leaning on one of the empty horse stalls, one that Jimin kept a surplus of hay in. “I think we’ll leave around 9:30. The club doesn’t open until 10 anyways. Jimin, you’ll come too, sweetheart?”

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink, nervously brushing sawdust from his jeans, nodding. It was somewhat hilarious to watch the two of them pretend they weren’t just talking about her, and Y/N wasn’t about to embarrass them by revealing she had been listening on, so she feigned normalcy by picking imaginary lint off of her pink sherpa coat.

“Of course, Y/N,” Jimin blurted, using the toe of his boot to push the plywood he dropped away, one hand gliding through his golden hair. “Wouldn’t miss it!”

Thankfully, once Y/N was able to find Jimin after Seokjin’s declaration the following day when she came home from work, the coyote hybrid had acted totally normal. Having a sneaking suspicion that like Taehyung, and even Seokjin himself, Jimin was a little bit avoidant, she decided if he was going to pretend nothing was different, so would she.

“How are we getting there?” Namjoon cleared his throat, stalking up to her side.

“I ordered a limo. Just about the only vehicle that can get us somewhere all together,” Y/N smirked, Namjoon cocking his head in confusion. Often, she forgot Namjoon wasn’t familiar with things like that. “It’s like a shorter, longer version of your van, kind of. Bench seats and a fridge filled with champagne, and the driver is separated by a partition.”

“Flashy,” Namjoon scoffed, Y/N flicking off a clump of hay clinging to his forearm. “Matches the fox’s personality, I guess.”

“Oh, yeah. There’s a dress code, I figured you two should know that– no athletic wear. Just basic slacks and a nice shirt, essentially.”

“That eliminates half of Hoseok’s wardrobe,” Jimin piped up, his ears twitching when Y/N giggled.

“Yeah, but he cleans up well,” Y/N could hardly wait to see what Hoseok would pull out of his closet– she had zero doubts he’d look drop dead sexy. “Alright, good. Everyone’s on board! I’m gonna go shower and scrounge up something for dinner later.”

“Dress warmly, the temperature is going to drop later,” Namjoon called after her, a frown on his face.

“Can’t make any promises, Joonie,” Y/N sent a wink his way, missing the low growl rumbling through his chest, picturing the dress she had bought for the very occasion and sashaying away.

“She’s going to do as she pleases, isn’t she,” Namjoon muttered to Jimin, who was eyeing the way her hips swayed as she walked, but the wolf hybrid had a wry smile stretching across his face.

Y/N took the opportunity of going out for Hoseok’s birthday to pull out all the stops appearance-wise, and she had to admit to herself, she was doing too well at it. Her makeup was dark and sultry, hair done to utter perfection, and the dress. She saw a picture of it online and bought it so fast she thought her computer was going to catch on fire. Taking a look at herself in the full-length mirror, she admired how lethal her figure looked in the short bodycon dress, legs on display, the off-the-shoulder cut of the neckline showing off the choker Namjoon gave her for Christmas. She was in the middle of strapping her heels around her ankles when a knock came on her door tentatively. Y/N guessed it might have been Taehyung, due to the hesitant sound of the knuckles against the wood.

Heels clicking against the hardwood, she reached the door, taking a deep breath, nervously wondering what Taehyung would think of her outfit– she had never worn something so revealing around the boys and it had her hands shaking on the doorknob. Throwing it open, Taehyung’s sandalwood cologne hit her smack in the face, his carmine eyes nearly bugging out of his head when he saw her. Unable to help himself, his gaze lowered, staring at the way the material of her dress clung to every curve, his lips parting.

“What’s up, Tae?” Y/N blurted, dazzled by his appearance, his dark curls pushed off of his forehead, a silky white button-down with pearls making up the buttons, and straight-leg slacks. Her eyes lingered on the thin gold chain around his throat, her gift to him from Christmas, too bashful to make eye contact all of a sudden.

“The… the car, the car’s here,” Taehyung was dazed, eyes glued to her legs, Y/N’s mouth drying up. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“Uh, yeah, why? You don’t like it?” Y/N felt her face fall, Taehyung’s throat bobbing when he swallowed urgently, shaking his head.

“N-no, it’s fine,” Taehyung’s strained voice had color pooling in her cheeks, blindly reaching behind her so she could grab her clutch. “I’ll get your coat.”

Taehyung darted away, smoke pretty much coming off of his heels, leaving Y/N stunned. Perhaps she had gone a tad overboard with the sexy dress. That aside, his reaction had hope blooming in her chest; if that was his heated reaction to the way she looked, could it be possible that had at least a semblance of an attraction towards her? Squaring her shoulders at the thought, she marched out into the hall confidently, and when she reached the foyer, most of her boys were hanging out around the stairwell, except for Taehyung, who appeared to be fishing around in the coat closet with stiff posture.

Similar to how they reacted at the cookout when she came out in her sundress, silence swept over the room with her arrival. Jimin’s face was so red she could probably fry an egg on one of his cheeks. Even usually-composed Yoongi’s eyes had gone round, dropping the sports jacket he was holding. Giving her a once over, licking his lips, Yoongi chuckled softly and shook his head.

“Ready to go? Where’s Hoseok?” Y/N was hoping she wasn’t reading smug, Seokjin frowning when he poked his head around Jeongguk’s frame, heat in his gaze but disapproval mixing with it.

“Getting shit from the kitchen,” Jeongguk answered blandly, picking his nails. He tried to be nonchalant, but she caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Y/N, it’s really cold outside,” Seokjin narrowed his eyes at her bare legs, adjusting the collar of his black oxford shirt, a few of the buttons undone.

“I know, that’s why my arms are covered,” retorted, gesturing to the long sleeves of the dress. “We won’t be outside for long, anyways, and it gets hot in those clubs.”

Seokjin was entirely unconvinced, watching Taehyung emerge from the coat closet, handing Y/N her longest, thickest coat, barely looking at her while she snickered at his selection. Shrugging it on, aware of all of the attention on herself– and for once, she enjoyed it thoroughly.

“Alright! Got the champagne! Y/N darling, shall we?” Hoseok waltzed in from the kitchen looking all kinds of delicious, in a white suit and a blue silky shirt, a bottle of Moet in one of his hands, using a free one to hook around her elbow and tow her to the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up, wolf!”

Namjoon, waiting by the door, eyeing Y/N’s neck and the choker encircling it, jingled the keys to the house in his fist, and waited for everyone to follow her and Hoseok to the limo waiting outside before he locked up.

Yoongi made it to her free side with a smirk on his face, Y/N admiring the way he styled his long hair. Hoseok was the first one inside of the limo while Yoongi held Y/N’s hand as she slid in herself, brushing a kiss on the back of it.

“You look gorgeous,” Yoongi said proudly, sitting beside her, Y/N nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. “Gonna have to keep my eye on you tonight.”

Hoseok had brought their portable speaker, already jacking up the volume on a rap playlist, grinning wickedly as the rest of the hybrids climbed into the limo. Jeongguk had to pay particular attention to his antlers so he wouldn’t knock them against the ceiling, slouching low on the bench he was on. It was hard not to laugh at his grouchiness as he held onto a champagne flute with a fist, though his saving grace were the leather pants he did indeed put on, highlighting his muscular thighs.

Last one into the limo was Namjoon, cramming himself in between Jeongguk and Seokjin, the latter of which was directly across from Y/N, his expression more feline than ever, Y/N squirming in her seat under the weight of his gaze. To distract herself, she turned to Hoseok, clinking her glass with his, the fox hybrid pinching her cheek happily.

“Happy birthday Hoseok!” Y/N cheered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a brief side-hug, careful to not spill her drink on his crisp white sports jacket when the limo started to pull out of the driveway.

Leaning into her playfully, Hoseok turned up the speaker even louder, Y/N enjoying watching her hybrids loosen up, champagne in hands, and looking forward to a new experience. With Seokjin looking at her like that, however, she didn’t know if she’d make it through the night without pushing him against a wall.

Music pulsing from the speakers, Y/N already armed with a cocktail, she once again thought that the hefty price tag on the table she bought was worth it when she sunk into the cushy booth with satisfaction. The club, called “The Grand Boston”, was decorated lavishly, had an enormous bar, and was lit up brilliantly. Besides her own hybrids, several of which were ordering drinks at the bar, Y/N was surprised to see others milling around with their humans, which was relieving– not as many eyes on her and the fact that she had seven of them with her.

“Wanna order a bottle? They have Casamigos, your favorite,” Y/N spoke loudly over the music to her fox hybrid, who was in the middle of taking a shot, his face screwing up as he shoved a lime between his teeth.

“Nah, they jack up the prices, we can just get a few rounds of shots,” Hoseok replied after a moment, smirking at Jimin sliding into the booth, tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

“I mean, we might as well get bottle service, Foxy. It’s your birthday and we have this table,” Y/N rolled her eyes, flagging down someone to order the liquor.

“Oooh, pulling out all the stops for me?” Hoseok teased, flashing her a stunning smile, motioning for Seokjin to join them when the jaguar hybrid returned from the bar with his cocktail, and due to the warm temperature of the club, he had pulled another button loose on his shirt.

With more of his collar bones exposed, Y/N’s mouth involuntarily watered, and to cover it up she immediately poured herself a shot and downed it expertly. Somehow, she felt bad that she was having such thirsty thoughts about sweet Seokjin. Completely oblivious, he placed his arm around her shoulders, offering her a sip of the Moscow mule, angling the black straw to her lips. Then again, the spark in his eye as her lips wrapped around the straw told a different story, one that had the blood boiling in her veins.

“Um, the others?” Y/N broke the trance she was in, addressing Jimin. She could see Jeongguk by the bar, forearms leaning against the counter, Namjoon beside him, both of them in deep conversation that probably surrounded their upcoming investigation on Monday.

“They’re around. Don’t worry, Y/N, they won’t leave without you,” Jimin read her mind, knocking back his drink and watching people head towards the dance floor.

“Alright. Plan is to get wasted and go dance,” Hoseok began lining up shots, Seokjin snorting beside her. “Don’t laugh at me on my birthday, Jinnie. Here. Cheers!”

Y/N watched, praying she wasn’t being creepy, as Seokjin sprinkled salt on the back of his hand, swiping his tongue over the skin, before he hastily took the shot of tequila with a wince, Y/N hurriedly handing him a lime to suck on.

After a couple of rounds of shots, Y/N already feeling the liquor loosen her up and ready to dance, Yoongi joined them with his glass of Hennessy, refusing to touch the Casamigos.

“I can’t do tequila, Foxy. Makes me sick to my fuckin’ stomach,” Yoongi frowned when Hoseok slid the shot glass towards him, Seokjin taking it instead. Jimin, at least, participated, his face getting redder by the minute with all the booze.

“Come on, let’s dance,” Y/N stood, miraculously stable on her heels, hands extended for someone, anyone, to take them, and at once, Hoseok leapt to his feet, palm sliding into hers, motioning for Seokjin to take her free one.

Seokjin got up, somehow handling all of the tequila incredibly well, Y/N giggling as her fox and jaguar hybrids began to lead her to the dance floor.

“I’ll stay here and watch,” Yoongi’s sly expression ticked her off, giving her a once-over from behind his glass. Jimin was off to the bathroom and to refresh his whiskey, Y/N thinking it was likely his last round before he totally blacked out.

Led by Hoseok, who had long since ditched his sports jacket, they weaved through the crowd, Y/N suddenly remembered Seokjin’s aversion to seas of people. Casting him a worried look over her shoulder, Seokjin mouthed ‘I’m fine’, the grip he had on her left hand tightening. She caught something out of the corner of her eye, an extremely sparkly dress a young woman was wearing.

Trying to get a better look at the shimmering fabric, she paused– the woman was apparently flirting with someone, someone Y/N recognized immediately even if it was just the back of his head. Taehyung, who she hadn’t seen since they stopped by the coat check, was talking to a random girl, something that Y/N assumed the Kodiak hybrid would be way too shy to do. Mouth hanging open, drunken jealousy surging through her as she realized Taehyung could sense her presence via scent and didn’t even turn to look at her, his shoulders shaking in laughter as he responded to something the woman said. Again, Seokjin squeezed her hand, spinning the two of them slightly so their backs were to Taehyung, Y/N grateful for Seokjin’s keen perceptivity and consideration.

Facing Hoseok, who finally found a good place in the center of the club, far enough away from the speakers that would blow their eardrums out, Y/N shook away remaining jealousy and focused on the fox hybrid instead, who was doing some kind of silly dance to get her attention. The little number he was doing was in stark contrast to how sexy he looked, his sleeves rolled up over his elbows, eyes slightly lidded from the shots, ears drooping.

“Let’s see what you two got,” Hoseok shouted over the music, and Y/N would have been hesitant if it weren’t for the tequila, but she found herself mirroring Hoseok’s swaying movements, a confident smile on his face. “Come on, Jinnie, weren’t you an acrobat? You must have some moves!”

Y/N shuddered when Seokjin’s chest was suddenly pressed to her back, simply holding her hips while she rolled them, her cheeks on fire while Hoseok cackled, clocking the fluster all over Y/N’s face. It was then, she decided fuck it, both presssing her hips backwards into Seokjin and pulling Hoseok to her by the collar of his shirt, winding her arms around his neck. Seokjin grunted deeply into her ear, his lips grazing the shell of it, while all smug attitude was knocked out of Hoseok in a blink.

“Out of wisecracks? Dance with me,” Y/N challenged, something flashing dangerously in the fox hybrid’s eyes before his hands were on her waist, copying the movements she made, but careful not to collide his hips into hers.

Ben always used to warn her to stay away from the tequila, as she tended to get frisky with a few shots of it coursing through her system, but she didn’t care that night. Not when Seokjin’s grip on her hips was firm, letting her essentially grind backwards into him, and Hoseok was looking at her differently for the first time, the way he moved graceful and precise. The world seemed to fall away into neon lights, hypnotic music, and the two hybrids that she was sandwiched between, Y/N really letting loose by letting her head loll back onto Seokjin’s chest, eyes slipping shut. She was too tipsy to be embarrassed about her behavior, and judging by the dark purrs from behind her and the mirth returning to her fox hybrid’s eyes, the two of them were freely enjoying themselves as well.

“Wanna take another shot,” Y/N murmured after a while, pouting when Hoseok pulled away in favor of watching the light show, his tail swishing, though Seokjin still held her to his chest, his nose tucked into the base of her throat.

“I think you’re good, pretty,” Seokjin replied, squeezing her hips and turning her around, his palms gliding up to cup her waist, the thin material of her dress doing nothing to hide her shape nor the way his touch burned her deliciously. “Don’t want to overdo it now, right?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning up, stamping a kiss on his exposed collarbone in hopes that it would butter him up. His skin was dewy with sweat, Y/N wanting to eat him alive, but she released her hold of his wide shoulders so she could make her way back to the table, and further, the bottle.

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice had a sharpened edge of warning to it, following closely behind, navigating through the tipsy crowd. Fortunately, she didn’t come across Taehyung and that girl, but when she remembered the interaction, it only strengthened her desire to hightail it to the table.

“Judas priest, kiddo,” Jeongguk was lazily reclined in the booth, his feet kicked up on one of the tables like he owned the joint, eyes roaming over her flushed skin, mussed hair, and the scent of alcohol coming off of her like a bar floor. “That’s not a good idea–”

Before any of the hybrids could get to her, including Yoongi who lurched forward to snatch the shot glass away and Jimin’s noises of alarm, Y/N had already poured the shot down her throat, not even feeling the burn of the liquor, batting Yoongi’s hands away when he tried to take the glass.

“Alright, sweetheart, that’s enough,” Yoongi scolded, pushing the bottle of tequila towards Jimin, who swiftly tucked it behind him with a worried look. “You’re going to be sick tomorrow.”

“So? I’m celebrating!” Y/N frowned, booping Yoongi’s nose. She wasn’t even slurring, for Christ’s sake, and she could still walk in her heels perfectly. “You’re all being worrywarts, I’m fine.”

“Why don’t you sit for a minute, I’ll have the server bring some snacks around,” Yoongi maneuvered Y/N into the booth, her grumbling the entire time, squirming next to Jeongguk. Seokjin went with Yoongi, both of them moving urgently.

“Fussy babies,” Y/N muttered, scanning the room for Hoseok, Namjoon, and Taehyung, crossing her legs and massaging her sore ankles. “I can hold my liquor.”

“Sometimes,” Jeongguk replied sarcastically, barely looking up from his phone, his fingertips flying over the keyboard. “It’s almost 2 AM. We should go soon, before the club closes.”

“Aw, but did you even get to dance? How about you, Jimin?” Y/N lamented, Hoseok returning from the dance floor, sweat slicking up his forehead when he pushed his damp hair back, a swagger in his step.

“Do I look like I dance, kiddo?” Jeongguk scoffed, draining his glass, setting his phone aside. “Time to head out, fox.”

“Yeah, the crowd is dwindling anyways. I’m ready to raid the fridge and pass out,” Hoseok grabbed his jacket that was slung over the booth, Jimin excusing himself to pay the tab and look for Taehyung.

“We can have some of your birthday cake!” Y/N exclaimed, suddenly less disappointed about going home if it meant she could have something sugary. “Awh, where’s Joon bug? He’ll want some cake too, I wanna tell him!”

“12 ‘o clock, darling,” Hoseok pointed beyond her shoulder, Namjoon trudging back to the booth with his jean jacket pulled around him, Y/N’s coat in his hands. Surprisingly, he seemed like the most sober of the bunch, offering her her coat with purpose.

“I talked to the driver outside, he’s ready when we are,” Namjoon announced, Y/N struggling to shrug her coat on while sitting down, Jeongguk clicking his tongue and helping her right arm through the sleeve.

“What about Tae, though?” To her embarrassment, Y/N’s head began to feel like it was floating, that last shot definitely a mistake like Jeongguk had said, as much as she hated to admit it. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she barely reacted when Yoongi dropped a bag of mini pretzels in her lap, stomach turning at the thought of chewing.

“Already outside, Y/N. Can you walk?” Namjoon made a motion for the rest of the hybrids to start heading towards the door with authority, Seokjin kissing the top of her head before he made sure Hoseok was going in the right direction.

“Yesss, I can walk, Joonie,” Y/N grouched, hauling herself to her feet, but unfortunately, her knees buckled. Cursing, Namjoon caught her swiftly before she could collapse on the floor, strong arms supporting her weight, Y/N limp.

“That’s a no, then,” Namjoon sighed, bending his knees, slinging Y/N over his shoulder in one smooth movement. Y/N squealed, scrabbling for a hold on the back of his jacket and staring at the floor, thankfully not getting violently nauseous as her world was turned upside-down and the wolf hybrid started walking. “Thank god I’m here. I hope you didn’t party like this in college, Y/N, it’s dangerous.”

“I’m currently b-breathing, aren’t I, Joon? Put me down, I’m embarrassed,” Y/N whined, whacking his back with her palms. Namjoon, however, was known to be unyielding. He promptly ignored her complaints, her strikes against his muscled back useless and truthfully, pathetic.

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those shoes. Your ankles are swelling,” Namjoon grunted, her heated face meeting some relief in the icy night air, the sounds of drunk clubgoers up and down the sidewalk. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“And you’re not, Namjoon?” Y/N squawked, astonished. However, Namjoon chuckled quietly, finally setting her down in front of the waiting limo, one broad palm on her lower back to help keep her upright while climbing in.

“Never claimed I wasn’t,” Namjoon replied offhand, clambering in behind her, the rest of the boys in various states of intoxication and exhaustion. “Are there sick bags in here?”

Namjoon was speaking to Yoongi, who was apparently the only one sober enough to have spatial awareness, even Jeongguk nodding off in the far end of the limo, the leopard hybrid waving a paper bag in front of Namjoon’s face. Jimin, Hoseok, and Seokjin were cracking open another bottle of champagne, while Taehyung was busy on his phone, presumably texting; Y/N dreaded to know exactly who.

“I’m not going to get sick, dad,” Y/N poked Namjoon in the bicep, peeved, the wolf hybrid choking on the sip of water he had taken, his fist pounding on his chest to clear the liquid from his lungs. Not expecting that reaction, Y/N felt laughter bubbling up in her throat, poking him again before setting her sights on Yoongi.

“What’s with that look?” Yoongi asked suspiciously, Y/N biting her lip, clumsily pouncing on him, sitting on one of his thighs and giving him a sloppy smooch on his cheek. “Oh boy. No more Casamigos for you, ever.”

“Angel, my feet hurt,” Y/N’s vision was fuzzy, supported by Yoongi’s arm around her back, the leopard hybrid letting her bury her face in his shirt, breathing in his familiar sweet scent, his tail caressing her bare calves.

Without asking, Yoongi exhaled, gripping one of her ankles gingerly and unfastening the straps around them. Easing each shoe off her foot as carefully as he could, Yoongi placed them in between him and Taehyung, who paused his texting to assess the spectacle. The Kodiak hybrid’s eyes lingered on the way Yoongi was prodding lightly around her swelling ankles to release pressure, but when he caught Y/N staring back at him, he returned to his phone with his tongue in his cheek.

Petulance took over, so instead of letting Taehyung’s iciness bother her, she focused on Yoongi’s touch, sighing blissfully, his talented hands kneading into her sore muscles, purring softly behind her. She was half asleep when something dawned on her, shooting straight up from Yoongi’s lap with an exclamation, looking around frantically for her clutch.

“Looking for this?” Namjoon held it up, his eyebrows raised, sucking in his cheeks.

Making grabby hands for it, Y/N thanked him quietly for keeping an eye on all of her things, before she clumsily maneuvered to the back of the limo where Hoseok was. Jeongguk was still drowsily trying to stay awake, his head bobbing, but Jimin had passed out finally. Hoseok and Seokjin switched to water, luckily, so when she took a seat beside her fox hybrid, he was a touch more sober than he was 15 minutes prior.

“How are you doing, darling?” Hoseok’s face was rounded out in sleep, content all over it.

“I forgot to give you this,” Y/N began digging around in her clutch, Hoseok sitting up a bit straighter and making a strange, fox-like noise in the back of his throat. “Seokjinnie got you something, remember, Jin?”

Seokjin had also apparently forgotten, blinking harshly. Finding the item at the bottom of the clutch, a tiny rectangular box, she opened it, handing Hoseok a silver bracelet, the chain link the exact same as the one Seokjin had on his ring. Seokjin had the adorable idea of getting them something that matched in some way, and Y/N had no problems letting the jaguar hybrid pick it out.

Hoseok was at a loss, holding the bracelet with his mouth open, Y/N stifling a laugh at his reaction. Seokjin shifted in his seat across from them, amused but also vulnerable.

“Jinnie, is this like a friendship bracelet?” Hoseok deadpanned, radiant joy coming off of him.

“Uh-huh. Happy birthday,” Seokjin broke out in a grin, Y/N’s heart warm with how sweet their close friendship was, Hoseok demanding the jaguar hybrid to clasp it around his wrist. “You two mean a lot to me.”

“Aw, Jinnie, you’re like my big brother,” Hoseok cooed, Seokjin rolling his eyes, but Y/N knew how profound those words were to Hoseok. The fox hybrid spent years in many places, never able to put down roots, much less make close friendships. “And you’re my little darling.”

Hoseok grabbed both of them, smushing themselves together for a group hug, Y/N finally releasing a hearty laugh that startled Jimin awake beside her, knowing that the tears slipping down her cheeks were tears of happiness.

After a brutal Sunday of recovering from the tequila binge, Y/N spending most of the day laying on the couch and watching reality TV with greasy pizza, she was well again on Monday, the day of the investigation. She had to drag Jeongguk to work with her that day, Namjoon of course itching to go without complaint. It was nice to have the two of them with her while she stocked inventory, Namjoon able to reach higher shelves and Jeongguk sorting through the Christian medallions in a way that made sense. While those two were more quiet than, say, Hoseok, there was still amiable conversation here and there. Y/N had a feeling Jeongguk, in particular, was gearing up for later that evening, gazing out the shop window every once in a while to stare at the van.

“Our plan is solid. I’ll handle the cameras, Namjoon is on the audio recording devices, and Y/N, I’m going to give you the EMF detector and communication devices, since you’re adept with sensing energies,” Jeongguk assured her and Namjoon, the sun beginning to go down as the three of them brought equipment into the Sanders’ home.

The family had left for the hotel that morning, and would be staying there until Y/N and the two hybrids could successfully banish the entity. The house was cold, and eerily quiet, and Y/N was grateful that she had black tourmaline necklaces for the three of them as an added layer of protection. While she was somewhat anxious about the investigation, there was immense comfort in having Namjoon and Jeongguk with her. Namjoon was protective, which became clearer to her by the day, and Jeongguk was nearly fearless.

“How long do you think the investigation will last?” Y/N questioned, wondering if it would be anything like what she had seen on television.

“However long it takes for us to get enough evidence,” Jeongguk shrugged, on his knees and setting up a tripod facing the hallway, where Erika mentioned seeing a shadow figure several times.

“Good thing we brought the Red Bull,” Y/N joked, placing a few clear quartz crystals around the living room, Namjoon on the couch with her laptop booting up the software they’d need for audio recording and reviewing footage. “You’re gonna teach me how to use these devices, right, sweets?”

“Obviously,” Jeongguk snorted, attaching one of the cameras to the tripod. “It’s straightforward though, not many buttons to press. Then you can ask your questions you wrote down. Namjoon will be right beside you, recording audio.”

Jeongguk, dressed in all black, pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, revealing those tattoos that Y/N never fully got a good look at. While he was prickly about explaining everything to Y/N, he did it thoroughly, and it was interesting to watch the elk hybrid drop into total concentration on a particular task. Y/N decided to take a walk through the small house, not sensing much on the first floor other than that odd feeling of being watched through the living room window. It was when she climbed the stairs to the three bedrooms where there was a chill rolling down her spine.

The master bedroom, where Erika slept– and her son, too, when he had his nightmares, had a sadness, a tense anxious feel to it. Putting selenite on all of the window sills, she stopped when she saw a photo sitting on Erika’s nightstand. It was the young mother, looking vibrant and happy in comparison to how nervous she was when Y/N met her. The young boy, too, was grinning without purplish circles under his eyes. Most noticeably different was the daughter, Julie, who was a few years younger and not wearing the gothic garb she had during their initial consultation. Sighing, she hoped that the family could be at ease again once her and the boys helped them.

Moving down the hall, hands coming up to rub her shivering arms, she peeked into the boy’s bedroom, nearly choking at the heaviness of the energy in there. Y/N refused to go in there without one of her hybrids with her. Nauseous, she tentatively made her way to the final bedroom, Julie’s.

The room was painted pink, but most of the walls were covered in pop punk posters. As for the energy, it was different from the solid wall of darkness in Tommy’s room, but it still made her feel sick and again, like someone was watching her. Visually sweeping the room as Jeongguk suggested, looking for any occultish items such as a Ouija board, but not actively going through the teenager’s stuff.

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she stiffened when an ice-cold draft filled the room, penetrating her body in a way that had her skin crawling. Dread filled her, resentment, and anger. Panicking, turning every which way to see if she could spot something physically manifesting, the thump-thump-thump against the walls returning. Whimpering, she sped out of the room, chest heaving, thundering down the stairs and startling Jeongguk, who was placing special lights around in the hallway.

Y/N smacked directly into his chest, quaking, clinging to his sweater for dear life and desperate to get rid of that supernatural coldness that pierced through her. Jeongguk grunted, letting her hide from the world in his sweater, his heart hammering steadily beneath her.

“What the fuck happened, are you okay?” Jeongguk’s hands were hesitant when he patted her on the back, but there was a clear alarm in his voice.

Namjoon’s clumsy, heavy tread was immediately thudding down the hall with urgency, Y/N releasing Jeongguk with embarrassment. Her reaction to that phenomena wasn’t exactly a great start to their investigation, establishing zero dominance over the entity, but she still couldn’t stop shaking. While Jeongguk was alarmed, Namjoon was calm, hands on her shoulders so he could duck his head and make eye-contact.

“Take a few deep breaths, Y/N,” Namjoon’s eyebrows were pinched, squeezing her shoulders comfortingly. “That’s it.”

After a couple of lungfuls of air, she was able to stop shaking underneath Namjoon’s palms, the wolf hybrid letting her go as soon as she calmed down. Both of them were waiting expectantly for her to relay what had happened, and Y/N felt like the presence was at the top of the stairs and watching them.

“I think we should focus on the second floor,” Y/N said weakly, Namjoon’s orange honey eyes shifting from her face to the stairs, his blank expression giving nothing away. If anything, it was nice to have the both of them there, confident and collected. “Especially in the children’s bedrooms. I didn’t go into the boy’s bedroom, the energy was too thick and without one of you–” I was too scared. “Something manifested in the teenager’s room, like an ice-cold draft that ran right through me. Then the knocking on the walls started up again.”

Jeongguk leaned a hip against the banister, making intense eye-contact with Y/N, like he was attempting to soak in every word with grave seriousness. Sucking his lip ring into his mouth, making an animalistic grunt, and with a nod, he agreed.

“So our key spots. The kid’s bedrooms, the window in the living room, and this hallway,” Jeongguk confirmed. “I’ll go upstairs and set up more equipment. Now that you have more of an idea of what the energy feels like up there, you should write down some more questions to ask later. You’ll be alright, center yourself.”

“Okay,” Y/N agreed, hoping she wasn’t being the weakest link. “You’re going to go up by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jeongguk had said that before, but him saying that did absolutely nothing to prevent her from worrying anyway. “Let’s just finish setting up, and we’ll start recording when it’s dark out.”

She followed Namjoon like a lost duckling back into the living room, Y/N sitting beside him on the couch while he continued to boot up his software. Taking a moment, she centered herself, eyes shut, focusing on breathing and her connection to the Earth.

“Remember why we’re here,” Namjoon said softly when she opened her eyes again, most of her fear and anxiety dissolving after centering.

“For the family,” Y/N finished for him, Namjoon giving her knee a soft squeeze, his bitten ear flickering.

“Do the lights really have to be off? Y/N doesn’t have night vision,” Namjoon asked a quarter after midnight, all of his audio equipment prepped and ready, including his tapes on the coffee table– their “base”.

“I mean, if you want to be able to see anything on these full-spectrum cameras,” Jeongguk replied, promptly switching off the last lamp that offered Y/N vision in the house. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you kiddo?”

“If you have time to be an ass, you have time to get to work,” Y/N hissed, brushing by him with the device she had just learned how to use in her hand. That particular device, a “Spirit Box”, would fill the room with white noise, and somehow capture voices they couldn’t hear if the spirits responded to Y/N’s questions.

While she did that in front of a camera set up in front of the living room window, Jeongguk was using his handheld camcorder, taking temperatures around all of the spots in the house. Thankfully, Namjoon would stay with her, helping her make out any sounds or words they could potentially capture. Clearing her throat, she sat on the chair beneath the window, Namjoon just a few feet away on the couch, the low light of the laptop illuminating his face and making his eyes glow.

“I’m gonna take the temperatures upstairs,” Jeongguk’s voice was far away, probably already halfway to his destination, Y/N exhaling slowly as Namjoon gave her a thumbs-up; he had begun recording. She had already memorized her list of basic questions, so she switched the Spirit Box on, cringing at the gnashing sound echoing around the house.

“Is there anyone here that wishes to speak with us?” Y/N began, feeling a little foolish, but pushing down the feeling swiftly. All she heard in response was the white noise, unfortunately.

“What is your name?”

Nothing.

“How old are you?”

Nothing, again.

“Why are you here?”

Then, there was a disruption in the static, something garbly coming through, Y/N’s eyes lighting up as Namjoon began typing on the laptop.

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

Growing a little excited, now understanding why Jeongguk was so into these devices, the static was interrupted once more, a frightening but unintelligible response captured through the Spirit Box.

“Who lives here?”

Before Y/N could get too riled up, the rest of her questions received no response, so she and Namjoon elected to move into the hall, trading places with Jeongguk, who was taking pictures of the window and using thermal imaging on the area.

It continued like that for about two more hours, repeating the interview with Namjoon multiple times with the Spirit Box and the EMF detector, the wolf hybrid letting her hold his hand when they were in Tommy’s room. The sounds of the voice that did come through in that space were particularly bone-chilling and grating. The last room, Julie’s room, only yielded one response that was reedy and low, Y/N ready to get the fuck out of dodge as soon as the interview concluded.

Reconvening downstairs, Jeongguk was starting to pack up equipment, and thankfully, he turned on a light or two. He looked charged, like new life was breathed into him. Investigations such as that one must have been his life’s passion, because Y/N hadn’t seen him like that, well, ever. Her and Namjoon were silent as they helped the elk hybrid gather everything up, and while Namjoon seemed calm, she could tell he was on edge due to some of the audio they captured together.

“Get anything?” Jeongguk pushed the last box of cameras into Namjoon’s van, Y/N wilting with exhaustion and nerves, watching her wolf hybrid lock the front door of the Sanders’ house with stiff shoulders, tape recorder under his arm. “We’ll review everything, but I’m pretty sure I captured some anomalies.”

“We had a few responses. Namjoon said he’d put the audio in a program music producers use to try and clarify what we were able to catch. There is definitely more than one entity we’re working with here,” Y/N ran a hand through her hair tiredly.

“Hmm, you’re right,” Jeongguk let her get into the van first, Y/N buckling herself into the passenger seat, thanking the sky she had the next day off. It was nearly five in the morning, and her eyes were crossing. “You did well, Y/N.”

“You too, sweets. You were in your element, huh?”

“I guess,” Jeongguk sobered up, toning down his excitement, Namjoon getting into the driver’s seat heavily, passing a hand over his face.

“Let’s get out of here, I’m drained,” Namjoon pulled out of the driveway, Y/N’s teeth unclenching when he switched on some folksy music and they got away from the house.

“You two are going to need to take some baths when we get back, right away. With that salt I gave you, I don’t want the risk of anything clinging to us,” Y/N leaned her head back, hearing Jeongguk still tinkering away with an electronic in the back of the van.

Namjoon hummed, too tired to respond, but she knew he’d listen to her. Once she explained the importance of making sure they were all properly spiritually cleansed, he hadn’t had a single complaint obeying her requests to take salt baths or enduring Y/N waving rosemary smoke around him. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was a toss up.

All Y/N knew was that she wasn’t exactly eager to find out what the entities were saying to her. Judging by the nastiness of some of the voices they captured, she doubted it was anything friendly. Namjoon said he’d take care of the audio over the course of the week, and Jeongguk was going to comb through his videos, data, and photos as well. All Y/N had to do was sit with the energies she felt and perhaps come up with some kind of plan for cleansings and banishment. Trying to find the moon in the sky, Y/N counted street lights until they were back at their own home, and there was a collective breath of relief from the three of them when they were safe inside.

Before she knew it, it was the end of the week, the day she and Seokjin planned their date. Y/N had come up with something special to do with him during the evening, and she knew they weren’t going to be bothered, she made sure of it. With Namjoon and Jeongguk holed up in the van poring over their evidence still; Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok at the rec center for their clubs, and Jimin outside putting the garden beds together on the finally-thawing ground, they were pretty much by themselves. She was in Seokjin’s bedroom, the lamps dimmed low, and her jaguar hybrid was somewhere in the kitchen, claiming he was making something for them to snack on. Y/N didn’t tell Seokjin what her plan was for them, wanting a nice surprise, so as quickly as she could, she dumped the materials she needed on his neatly made bed.

There was an old white topsheet she found in the depths of one of the linen closets, Y/N shaking it out and tying it to tops of the front two bedposts. The fabric fell, making a large “screen” at the foot of the bed, and with that done in a pinch, she hooked up the mini projector she got on Amazon and stuck it on the shelf behind Seokjin’s headboard.

A cozy, quiet movie night was something she thought Seokjin would enjoy. Meaning to watch Lord of the Rings with him, she had the boxed CD set ready to go, even if they’d probably only get through one of the movies due to the length. Satisfied, she sped into his bathroom, changing into her pajamas– a pair of cotton shorts and a matching tank top. It was likely she’d end up sleeping next to Seokjin that night, so she decided she might as well get comfortable. She was tossing her clothes in his hamper when the sounds of the jaguar hybrid shuffling into his bedroom filled her ears, Y/N smiling at her reflection in his mirror and going out to meet him.

Seokjin, with a curious flicker to his ear, was staring at the sheet she hung, setting a tray down with various snacks and drinks, and of course, a few slabs of the bread he baked that morning. Skipping to his side, Seokjin whirled around, cheeks coloring with how little clothing she was wearing. Seokjin wasn’t a fan of the cold, so his room was always boiling with space heaters going, so she wasn’t about to wear flannel pajamas.

“Pretty, why’d you tie that sheet there?” Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his thin tee-shirt by the collar, averting his eyes.

“So we could watch a movie together, I got a projector online. Do you like the sound of that?” Y/N asked, a touch self consciously, sitting on his bed and looking at the tray he brought up. With a pounding heart, she realized most of the snacks he prepared were her favorites.

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Seokjin insisted, knees landing on the bed softly, fluffing his pillows and moving the stuffed alpaca aside so he could sit against the headboard. “What do you wanna watch?”

“Well, all those months ago, I mentioned wanting to watch Lord of the Rings with you. How about that?”

Seokjin, his bright eyes widening, replayed the memory in his head– when he was recovering from his fever, the day Y/N adopted him, she had lent him that book. He was nodding at once, watching Y/N grin and get on all fours, sliding a disc into the projector, adjusting the volume. He didn’t know if she felt how charged the air felt, tucking her hair behind her ear as she navigated the movie’s menu, his eyes skimming over her figure indulgently. The beginning credits began to roll, the projector displaying the title card of the film pretty well, Seokjin realizing that was why Y/N had dimmed the lights so low.

Y/N got comfortable beside Seokjin at once, curling into his side and tucking herself under his arm, one of hers thrown across his waist. Reminded of a kitten getting cozy in her bed, Seokjin purred, fingertips dancing along her upper arm, the skin like warm silk.

“I… never asked you this, but when I gave you this book, you seemed emotional. Can I ask you why, honey?” Y/N was thoroughly enjoying Seokjin stroking her arm with reverence, his chin resting on top of her head.

“Oh, I suppose that was kind of odd to you at the time,” Seokjin replied, focusing more on her than the movie in the background. Movies never really compared to books, anyways. “It’s just something that I remember… a young kid I grew up with telling me about. You know I’m not a big adventurer, but reading about it, seeing it, I’m comfortable with. Nostalgia sometimes gets to me, that’s all.”

“That’s why you’re so sweet,” Y/N hummed, her breath fanning over his neck, Seokjin giggling at her words. “I felt so bad that day, I didn’t wanna make you cry.”

“You didn’t, you just reminded me that sometimes the world is smaller than I think it is,” Seokjin’s touch migrated to her shoulders, lowly hissing at the tightness in the muscles, Y/N wincing when he pressed over them. “Come here.”

Seokjin cupped her waist, spreading his legs carefully, before rolling her over so she was seated between his thighs, back pressed to his chest. Y/N went stiff, the opposite of what he was trying to do, so he gave her a reassuring, chaste kiss to the crown of her head, pressing his thumbs into the tender sides of her neck. Shuddering when Seokjin dug the digits into two knots that have been giving her grief the entire week, she went limp immediately, not knowing where to put her own hands– settling them idly on her lap.

“You’re tense, let me help you,” Seokjin murmured, Y/N surrounded by his eucalyptus scent, and having him care for her was better than any spa treatment. “You’ve been working too hard, pretty.”

“Uh-uh,” Y/N protested, melting backwards, the sturdiness of his chest actually quite surprising. “Not true– oh.”

Seokjin hit a particularly tender spot, her tight trapezius muscle, and he was seemingly chuckling as he massaged the flesh sensually. He didn’t make a smart retort, even though he could have, but instead he focused on working out every single kink in her neck.

“How did you get so good at this?” Y/N was choking back moans, at that point, barely paying attention to the movie, her temperature rising in the toasty bedroom.

“Well, when I was a performer, I’d have to tend to my own knots and strains,” Seokjin responded, sweeping her hair aside so he could press on either side of her upper spine, Y/N involuntarily arching away from him with a strained whine– one that had heat rising to his cheeks, shamefully. “Guess the skill is finally coming in handy.”

“Seokjin,” Y/N breathed, and the jaguar hybrid thought he heard a slight edge of warning to it, like she was accusing him of being cheeky. After so long, he couldn’t help it.

A few moments went by mostly in silence– apart from the movie’s dialogue and score, and a tiny yelp from Y/N once or twice. Seokjin, even though he couldn’t stand feeling cold, was truthfully getting warm himself, Y/N so pliant in front of him, her hands subconsciously finding purchase on his knees as he worked her back.

“B-baby, I think I’m g-good, uh–” Y/N’s breathing became labored, heat striking through her as he continued the massage under her shoulder blades. “Oh fuck.”

Apparently a very sore spot, Seokjin dug his fingers into her skin with more intensity, and embarrassingly so, Y/N let out a thin, pleading whine, Seokjin’s spine going rigid at the sound.

“Does it feel good?” Seokjin asked, his voice becoming siren-like again, moving to the other shoulder blade and eliciting a similar sound from her.

“W-what do you think?” Y/N was out of oxygen, two seconds away from pinning him to the headboard, Seokjin’s laughter rumbly and deep. “I don’t know if I want you to stop or to–”

Y/N was shamefully turned on at that point. It was hard not to be, she thought, between his proximity and his hands working her into a boneless puddle. Still chuckling, Seokjin removed one of his hands, reaching for the tray on the bed, plucking a strawberry from the bowl and offering it to Y/N, fingers poised before her lips.

Instead of eating it, Y/N looked over her shoulder, face flushed and pupils blown out, an accusatory expression lighting up her features.

“You didn’t mention you’re some sort of Casanova,” Y/N mumbled, overwhelmed by that romantic side of her jaguar hybrid, his ears fluttering playfully. Instead of feeding her, Seokjin ate the strawberry himself, the cool juices of the fruit spilling over his chin and down his neck, Y/N’s sight zeroing in on that visual. “Jesus Christ.”

“What’s wrong?” Seokjin teased once he swallowed the fruit, forcibly turning her back around so he could continue the massage, Y/N freezing when he not only laid his palms on her shoulders again, but his lips pressed a kiss to the top of her spine tenderly, his lips soothing her feverish flesh from the cold fruit he ate.

“Are you aware of how gorgeous you are, Seokjin? It’s borderline disturbingly wrong,” Y/N grouched, squeezing his knees, Seokjin freezing behind her before cracking up into hysterics, arms winding around her middle tightly, sponging kisses along her shoulders in between laughter. “You’re literally a doll!”

Despite his laughter, Y/N could feel his heart speeding up with her words, chest still flush with her back, and she debated whether or not to shut the movie off and just straddle him at that point. Suddenly aware that her panties were starting to get a bit damp, Y/N cursed herself inwardly, not believing how little it took to turn her on. She wondered if the jaguar hybrid could smell it, his sleek black tail laying heavily on one of her bare thighs. Boldly, while Seokjin kneaded her flesh again, she traced her fingers over the silky fur of his tail out of curiosity, Seokjin whimpering behind her, movements freezing.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. She hadn’t gone as far as to touch Yoongi’s tail yet, but with Seokjin’s right in front of her, it was hard to resist stroking through the fur. In consequence, Seokjin’s fingers danced over the straps of her tank top, running his index fingers along the lace.

“Can I… move these just a bit?” Seokjin fiddled with the material, Y/N nodding straight away, hurrying up the process by sliding one of the straps around her bicep, eager for him to tend to her aching shoulders, craving his touch. With a soft intake of air, Seokjin copied her movements on the other side, one hand gliding over the entirety of her exposed upper back, seemingly feeling for more points of tension.

Still stroking through the fur of his tail, her other hand gripping his quilt with pale knuckles, Y/N bit down on her lip when Seokjin rolled his knuckles against her tender skin. Betting every last dollar in her bank account that neither of them gave a single shit what was happening in the movie still playing in front of them, Seokjin used one hand to grab the tray of food on the bed and move it to one of his nightstands distractedly, bending his knees so his feet were flat against the quilt and he could better cage Y/N in.

However, with Seokjin’s movements, Y/N scooching up on the bed to press closer to him, her tank top straps fell to the crooks of her elbows, her eyes shooting wide open as the garment bunched around her waist– and she was not wearing a bra in that moment.

There was a pause, Seokjin’s broad body crooking over hers from behind, where nothing was audible but sounds from the movie. Seokjin was staring at the entirety of her bare back, also realizing she wasn’t wearing anything under her tank top, but he was unable to help himself by gliding his hands from the small of her waist up to her mid-back. The action was smooth, Y/N’s skin somewhat slick with perspiration, Seokjin’s mouth watering. He always considered himself a man of patience, but there was something primal brewing within him, something that was difficult to control.

“Y/N,” Seokjin’s voice was but a breeze in the wind, experimentally digging his fingertips into the base of her spine, relishing in the thready moan she offered to him, one of her forearms pressed over her breasts to preserve her modesty– Seokjin could smell both her arousal and bashfulness filling up the room thickly. “Are you alright?’”

“Keep touching me,” was all Y/N responded with, leaning backwards and removing her arm from her chest, Seokjin focusing straight ahead at the movie blindly.

“How so, pretty girl?” Seokjin groaned, wrecked, his nose tucked into the base of her throat, not moving until she vocalized.

“All over, anywhere,” Y/N whimpered, gasping when Seokjin’s hands snaked around her middle, skimming over her tummy, the jaguar hybrid’s resolve finally dissolving, his lips latching around the junction of her neck and shoulder. “Honey…”

Sucking her flesh into his mouth sensually, Seokjin felt blood rushing to his crotch, the taste of her skin so addicting, he swore he was high. It was the taste of her, yes, that was causing him to descend into a lust-driven frenzy, but also the scent of her love, the scent of her arousal, that was egging him on. Still, the human side of his brain begged him to see through the fog.

“You’re sure?”

“Fuck, yes, Jin, please,” Y/N had annoyance dripping in her tone, one of her palms covering his on her abdomen, guiding it up to her sternum. “Love you, and I want you.”

A switch flipped within Seokjin, one he didn’t know existed, and he stroked the naked sides of her waist with hunger, resuming his task of decorating the slope of her neck with love bites, a strangled noise leaving his throat when Y/N shifted her hips backwards; flush to his.

He was reminded of the previous weekend, Y/N in that dress, grinding into him with carefree abandon– and how he needed to excuse himself to the bathroom before they left to stick his face under the icy tap. He felt perverted, out of control– but a distant, animalistic side of him was saying “she’s the one, the only one” which was enough for him to want to stake his claim.

Seokjin grasped the material of her tank top pooling around her waist, pulling it over her head with care. Once Y/N was free, she keened at the feeling of Seokjin suckling a bruise beneath her earlobe, his hardness pressing up against her ass, the sensation drenching her underwear thoroughly and anticipation climbing to Everest.

Silently, Seokjin nipped the shell of her ear with his sharpened teeth, and before Y/N could fully process that, he was cradling her chest, the weight of her tits in his palms having him groaning and pressing his hips against her ass even more firmly. He had never been so turned on in his life, Y/N totally caged in his embrace, wanting and receptive to everything he had to offer her. This, this, was everything he was waiting to feel his entire life, and he could hardly think straight– Y/N semi-consciously whacking the projector, muting the movie miraculously in favor of hearing the noises Seokjin could make.

Seokjin, caught in a spell, hooked his chin over Y/N’s shoulder, not caring that his back was aching from the prolonged arch, her breasts still cupped in his hands. Experimentally, he pressed them together, finally peering at her exposed chest, his throat rather dry at the sight as he soaked in both her heaving into his grasp, and the marks he had left on the side of her throat and shoulder. Skin lighting up with heat, one of her hands flailed backwards, clawing at Seokjin’s hip– now aware that he was very much completely clothed, all Y/N wanted was his bare skin against hers.

“Easy, kitten,” Seokjin ground out, her fingernails cutting into his flesh even through the material of his sweatpants, Y/N hardly recognizing his hypnotic voice as it reached her ears centimeters away, and what he called her having her lax in his grip like prey.

Her tits still in his palms, lips heavy on her neck, Y/N was about to melt into his mattress completely– breath stolen from her lungs when the jaguar hybrid teasingly swiped his thumbs over her nipples, erect with all of the slow teasing, the sensation sharp and having her jolt in the cage– made out of his limbs– he had trapped her in.

“Tease,” Y/N managed due to the way his forefinger and thumb tweaked the buds, Y/N nearly passing out as he promptly slicked up the fingers of his right hand by sticking them in his mouth. “Jin–”

“Shush,” Seokjin returned, using his dampened digits to roll her right nipple between them, completely entranced. At that point, he felt himself leaking somewhat into his boxers, toying with Y/N’s chest until she was a mess in his lap, peering over her shoulder to see how her body reacted to his touch. “If you let me, I’ll make you feel good. But I want you to listen to me, is that okay?”

Y/N nodded desperately, but it wasn’t enough of a confirmation for Seokjin.

“Mmm-hmm! Yes, Seokjin, I-I– hnngh,” Y/N yelped when he kneaded the sensitive flesh of her breasts again.

“Okay then, lean on me,” Seokjin sucked yet another bruise into the side of Y/N’s throat, enjoying working her up. “You– mmph–”

Y/N had turned her head, seeking out his mouth, eagerly slotting her lips against his with desperation. His arms automatically wrapped around her again, one forearm slung low on her writhing hips, the other barred across her chest, letting her kiss him with abandon. She had wanted to kiss him like that for weeks, swiping her tongue along the seam of his mouth, Seokjin’s lips parting slightly and granting her access. A deep, indulgent moan came from her as she tasted him, sweet like the strawberry he just ate, still clawing at his clothed hips when her tongue slid against his. In return, Seokjin hummed, kissing her back just as freely, letting her take control for a moment. Though, while she was distracted, Seokjin began to fiddle with the waistband of her pajama shorts, a grunt tearing through him when she jerked her hips backwards.

Breaking away from their kiss, Seokjin was transfixed, Y/N attempting to keep her control by going for his neck, even though the twisted position of her body was uncomfortable. Lapping at the sticky trail of strawberry juice along his Adam's apple, Seokjin shuddered at the feeling, her teeth scraping against his throat before she sunk them in, which had his eyes rolling back into his skull.

Taking matters into her own hands, Y/N managed to wiggle out of her shorts, a hand breaking away from Seokjin’s hips, tossing them carelessly off the bed. The jaguar hybrid, sounding utterly fucked out already, tipped his head back and moaned when her ass collided with his lap again. At that point, with the scent of her wetness becoming so concentrated, Seokjin snapped, growling, dangerously, Y/N blinking up at him at once.

“Face forward and watch the movie, pretty,” Seokjin ordered, Y/N’s head spinning. If he didn’t want to continue, that was fine, but she was pretty much naked and she wasn’t about to watch Hobbits traipse through the mud like that. However, that wasn’t the case, Seokjin hooking his chin over her kiss-bitten shoulder, fingertips dipping into the waistband of her panties. “Oh. Did you wear these for me?”

Looking down, confused and still driven crazy by lust, Y/N’s mouth dropped open. Subconsciously, she must have picked out the pink pair of panties Seokjin was teasing her with when they were folding laundry, the gusset of the fabric completely soaked. Lolling her head back against his chest, she looked at him pleadingly, the feeling of him tracing her hip bones driving her insane.

“Aw, poor thing,” Seokjin cooed, kissing her temple with a derisive smirk. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With that, Seokjin stripped her of her panties in a flash, stuffing the garment into the pocket of his sweatpants, Y/N mewling, turned on by the fact that she was completely bare before him, and he hadn’t shed a single article of clothing. Without wasting too much time, his mouth on her neck again, Seokjin grabbed a hold onto her thighs and propped them up, his breath quickening at the fresh wave of her arousal that surrounded him. Again, Y/N grappled for his tail, just about the only thing she could do wrapped up in his arms like that, cunt clenching around nothing when he moaned hollowly, the appendage curling around her wrist.

Finally, Seokjin ghosted his fingers over where she needed him most, cursing at the wetness that gathered there abundantly, Y/N’s hips bucking over his lap with a cry. Cunt pulsing with his touch, Seokjin bit his lip, parting her dewy folds, the slick sound making Y/N cringe. He didn’t want to tease her too much, she was practically dripping onto his quilt, free hand coming up to pinch a nipple as his index finger made a slow circle around her clit simultaneously.

The action elicited a great reward. Y/N’s spine arched, crying out his name, more wetness gushing out of her. Cooing again, Seokjin kept circling the sweet spot, loving the sounds she made for him, hardly noticing she was scraping her nails against his sensitive tail.

“So wet, kitten,” Seokjin purred, slowly working her up, Y/N’s gut tightening at his dulcet tone, hardly here nor there.

“Feels so good,” Y/N thrashed, stomach flipping over when the movement had his cock pressed right against the seam of her ass. “Ah!”

Seokjin groaned, ignoring his own pleasure in favor of finding her’s, testing the waters by teasing a fingertip around her fluttering entrance. Hearing her pleas, he sunk the digit into her, whimpering at the way she clamped down on him. Y/N rocked her hips, essentially riding his finger, the visual erotic and making him hiss darkly.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Seokjin encouraged, gripping the side of her waist to aid her desperate movements. “Use me.”

Helping her out, he began to snap his wrist against her, curling his finger and pressing against the front of her walls, Y/N swore she could have died, so crammed full of desire for the jaguar hybrid it was driving her insane.

“M-more, please,” Y/N begged, grinding against his hand, leaking all over him.

“Spoiled little girl,” Seokjin taunted, but despite the jab, he added another digit into the mix while she rode his fingers, his thumb toying with her clit as she felt herself barreling towards her orgasm. “Gonna need to stretch you out, anyways, kitten.”

Gasping, his dirty words was all she needed, her sudden orgasm taking Seokjin by surprise as she wailed in his arms, walls spasming around his fingers as he continued to fuck them into her. The lewd sounds of her wetness had his ears ringing, wanting to taste the mess she made, but he murmured sweet nothings in her ear as she tore through her orgasm instead.

Y/N, panting, grasped his wrist to halt his movements, oversensitive but somehow still needy for him, Seokjin releasing his hold on her and allowing her to turn, climbing over his lap to straddle him with a ravenous look on her face. Seokjin simply stared back, smirking, bringing his slicked-up fingers to his mouth, dutifully cleaning them off and trying not to cum in his pants at the taste of her. To his surprise, a startled moan leaving his lips, Y/N rocked her hips over the hardness beneath his sweatpants, her hands tangled in his shirt.

“Uh, oh, still need more?” Seokjin teased, hands landing on her ass and kneading the flesh, helping her grind against him. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you?”

Y/N had no response but to kiss him, whimpering when his tongue tangled with hers, Y/N sensing that he was slowly beginning to unravel. She wanted nothing more than for him to lose his patience and fuck her senseless, feeling her pussy throbbing over the bulge in his pants. She broke away to mouth down his neck, and when she felt him shiver when she grazed over a particular spot, she sucked a bruise into the flesh, Seokjin’s hips grinding up harshly into her heat.

“Take this off,” Y/N whined, yanking at his flimsy tee shirt, fed up with being the only one naked. Seokjin obliged, letting her strip the article off of him while they continued to rub against one another, sweat dripping from his hairline. “God, you’re so fucking sexy…”

Y/N gaped at the sight in front of her, not expecting Seokjin to be… well, ripped. She had seen his chest before, when she mended the wound on his side, but she was hardly gawking at his solid abs when she was doing so. Hands instantly shooting out to glide along his skin, his muscles rippling under her touch, the jaguar hybrid was panting while she gyrated her hips on his cock.

“No, you,” Seokjin managed, smiling at her despite the situation they were in, Y/N kissing over his prominent clavicles tenderly. “Fuck, pretty girl!”

Y/N moved off of his hips, gawking at the wet patch she left over his gray sweatpants with distant humiliation, making brief eye-contact to ask if she could divest the garment from him. He nodded eagerly, so wound up he could think of nothing else but the scent of her, the love in her eyes, and how perfect she was. In one smooth motion, she shucked both his pants and boxers from his body, her eyes going comically wide at what she saw.

Not only was Seokjin the sweetest man alive, gorgeous, and ripped– he had the biggest dick she ever saw in her life. Truly, he was blessed in all areas, Y/N speechless as she stared at the intimidating length and girth, suddenly understanding why he mentioned needing to stretch him out.

“Seokjin, you’re huge,” Y/N, again, was clenching around nothing, looking up at him with awe. Seokjin had blush in his cheeks that wasn’t due to his arousal and the temperature of the room, Y/N realizing he was bashful. “I– you want my mouth, my–”

“Come here,” Seokjin cut her off, regaining his ability to take control, hooking her around her waist. “I want you to sit on my cock.”

Stunned, Y/N felt her wetness roll down her thighs, and fuck, she was going to need it. She had no objection to that request, maintaining their eye contact as she reached down, grasping his cock, the jaguar hybrid’s ears flattening against his skull as her thumb smeared precum around his tip. Having mercy on him, and neediness taking over her again, she ran him through her folds, dripping over him, whimpering brokenly when he caught on her entrance. Would he even fit?

“You can take it,” Seokjin read her mind, tucking hair behind her ear and kissing beneath her jaw, the words making heat strike through her. “Go slow.”

Swallowing thickly, she lined him up, exhaling shakily as she sunk down, and despite how turned on she was and the sheer wetness spilling from her, the stretch was enough to knock the wind out of her. Taking over, guiding her by her waist, Seokjin grit his teeth as she took him inch by inch, her chest heaving. It was a tight fit, enough to have Seokjin seeing stars, Y/N’s thighs shaking on either side of him. He was telling her to breathe when she was fully seated in his lap, cock throbbing inside of her as she adjusted to his size, kissing over her face soothingly.

“Move when you’re ready kitten, okay?” Seokjin himself was a bit starved for oxygen, Y/N cupping his face and pressing a kiss on his lower lip, tongue flicking over the flesh.

Regaining her ability to function, eyes going round when she looked down– she pressed a hand over her lower abdomen, the slightest bump there, the action having Seokjin hissing. Darkness was in his eyes when her walls fluttered around him, and with that, Y/N gave an experimental roll of her hips, both of them moaning in tandem as he slid out an inch.

“F-fuck, Jin,” Y/N whined, getting a hold on his broad shoulders to ride him properly, lifting herself up only to drop back down harshly, feeling like he was spearing into her guts.

Entirely overwhelmed, Seokjin leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples while she fucked herself on his cock, happy to let her chase her pleasure, to provide it. Y/N’s head was thrown back, entirely gone, Seokjin’s name leaving her lips like a prayer when he stroked a thumb over her clit, bracing her hands on his knees again to switch up the angle, one that gave Seokjin quite a show and had his cock rubbing against her G-spot deliciously.

“Look at you,” Seokjin awed, his hips beginning to buck up to meet her strokes, taking his cock like a saint. “Fuck. So pretty, so perfect.”

With Seokjin fucking into her like that, his steady circles over her clit, she was gone again with a slam and grind onto his lap, an elastic band snapping within her as she stilled, collapsed against Seokjin’s chest as she felt herself gush.

“Holy fucking hell,” Seokjin groaned, his lap soaked, Y/N’s pussy clamping down so hard on him his vision was turning white.

Y/N couldn’t move anymore, throat strained from her cries, convulsing against her. The world was turning as she caught her breath, somehow still aroused, and she found herself on her back, Seokjin sucking a deep bruise into her neck. Still nestled inside of her, throbbing, Y/N wound her arms around the jaguar hybrid, hands sliding into his hair.

“Fuck me,” Y/N breathed against his lips, and that was all Seokjin needed to release that last scrap of control he had over himself.

Snapping his hips forward, Y/N’s cunt swollen and sensitive, she wailed, feeling him in her throat. The new position was intimate, Seokjin pretty much laying most of his body weight on top of her, murmuring things in her ear that she could only make out bits and pieces of.

“Gonna cum soon,” he groaned, driving into her, Y/N sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

“Cum inside me,” she requested, the discussion about her IUD already out of the way days ago. “P-please.”

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Seokjin teased, though the request had the predator in him coming alive. “Want me to stuff you full so you can have my cubs?”

Shock flooded through Y/N at that question, not expecting Seokjin to be like that, and shamefully she felt herself clenching around him again. Seokjin must have felt it, because he grunted, hips stuttering.

“You’d look so beautiful,” Seokjin sighed, Y/N’s eyes rolling back, sliding her fingers over his silky ears. “Fuck, I love you, my pretty girl, my love, gonna give it to you–”

With a final thrust, Seokjin went still, kissing Y/N harshly, heat filling her as he spilled into her cunt, the jaguar hybrid whimpering. Miraculously, the sensation of him cumming so deeply inside of her had a smaller, less intense orgasm shuddering through her, leaving her utterly spent and exhausted. Seokjin himself was breathing like he ran a marathon, Y/N holding him weakly as he pulled himself together.

“You’re insane,” Y/N accused once she caught her breath, covered in sweat, saliva, and cum, her poor pussy battered and sensitive. “I won’t be able to walk for three days.”

Seokjin giggled, actually giggled, after how devilish he had just behaved, placing an apologetic kiss on her jaw.

“Was I too rough?” Seokjin became serious, worry etched in his eyebrows.

“No, you were perfect,” Y/N insisted, cupping the side of his face. “I love you, honey.”

Hiding his face in her neck, he returned the sentiment, both of them content to sit in their mess for a few minutes to hold each other, Seokjin’s tail curling behind him languidly.

“We watched about five minutes of that movie,” Y/N commented, twirling a lock of his wavy hair around a finger with a snort. “That was a hell of a first date!”

“There’s always next time,” Seokjin replied, finally rolling off of her, Y/N wincing at what they had to clean up. “I’m gonna get some things to clean you up, can you have a few sips of that water for me, pretty?”

Y/N, bonelessly, reached for the forgotten snack platter, greedily gulping the water down her scraped-up throat, watching Seokjin walk to his dresser. With a secret smile, she stared at his ass, munching on a strawberry. He only took a few minutes to gather his items: a few damp cloths, two pairs of his pajamas, and a fresh quilt to replace the one that had unspeakable fluids all over it.

Lovingly, Seokjin cleaned her up, cooing when she winced at the sensitivity between her legs, doing the same to himself and dressing the two of them in his soft pajamas. Y/N only had to stand for a few seconds while he changed the quilt, pulling it back so they could get in.

They ended up in the same position they were originally in, Y/N curled into his side, Y/N turning the projector off of mute in an attempt to pick up wherever the movie was, her eyes catching on something sitting on one of the pillows.

“Oh my god. The alpaca watched us fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing at the plushie, making Seokjin’s squeaky laugh fill the room, Y/N smacking him lightly on his chest. “Why do we keep scandalizing the innocents?”

“Our cross to bear,” Seokjin shrugged, brushing his lips over one of the love bites he left behind.

Holding her close, they chatted about the movie, ate some snacks, and after about an hour, fell asleep intertwined– the projector still rolling on, and rain falling gently outside.

“I think I’ve figured out the audio,” Namjoon invited Y/N into his room days later, once she untangled herself from Seokjin in the morning and completely rinsed their sins off of her body. “Everything we captured last week.”

Namjoon’s expression was worrying her, his eyebrows pinched, sitting at his desk and chin in his hand. He had been slaving over a digital audio workstation all week, hardly making it to mealtimes, Y/N even hearing him pacing around his room late at night.

“Is it bad?”

Namjoon gave her a look, one that said everything she needed to know, leaning against his desk.

“Did Jeongguk listen?”

“He listened this morning,” Namjoon said carefully, Y/N wondering why he wasn’t present. “Due to what we ended up capturing, he went upstairs to consult his old journal. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” Y/N bit her lip nervously, not liking his clear reluctance. With a sigh, he pressed on the space bar.

“What is your name?”

Static.

“How old are you?”

More static.

“Why are you here?”

Listening to her recorded voice had her cringing, but finally, there was a response to the third question.

“Watching.” The voice was creepy, low, and made her queasy, but what was said had her skin crawling.

“How many spirits are on this property? Are you alone?”

“Many are here.”

Y/N glanced at Namjoon, a little confused. Sure, the responses made her uneasy, but they weren’t so bad to warrant how hesitant he looked.

“Okay, creepy, but expected, right?” She asked, nudging him with her foot.

“There’s more. I didn’t want to show you, but Jeongguk insisted,” Namjoon said flatly, expression darkening. “Actually, I don’t think you, specifically, should even go back to that house.”

“What? Namjoon, you’re freaking me out. Just show me,” Y/N blinked, Namjoon scrolling on the workstation to a highlighted section.

“This is when we were in Julie’s room,” Namjoon murmured, pressing play.

“Why are you here?” Y/N’s voice came through the speakers, Y/N recalling they only got one response in that room.

“To kill you, whorish witch.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @goooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @7evensin @lilmxchis @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @missyoueverysingleday @cathy-1997 @prybts @doublebunv @milopenne @steadycreationangel @rinkud @minjianhyung

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mackjlee9 · 10 months

Note

breeding Leon. telling him to keep quiet so luis and ashley don’t hear him, in a semi public area where there might be a few villagers. i think this is a good one 😭

Ooh~ spicy~

I tried lol

Leon Kennedy x Top!Male!Reader [Smut]

Warning; semi-public, breeding kink. I wrote this in like 30 minutes so it's a little meh.

Masterlist.

Resident Evil 4

Well... Leon wasn't expecting this, that's for sure. Especially, not during this kind of situation where they could get caught by practically anyone.

His eyes were glossy with tears, sighs leaving through his nose, and muffled whines covered by (M/n)'s hand, his thighs trembling as his gloves hands gripped the table the was pressed against.

(M/n)'s chest brought warmth to his back, and his throbbing cock inside him made him feel hot all over his body, feeling his hand press harder over his mouth, his hot breath right next to his ear, making a shiver run down his spine.

"You gotta keep quiet, love, otherwise Luis and Ashley could hear you," he muttered next to Leon's ear, hearing the sound of the wooden floorboard creak upstairs, where Ashley took care of an injured Luis, "Or even worse, the villagers could find us," (M/n) moved Leon's head toward the window, there were quite a few villagers around, still looking for them, and despite being hidden behind the staircase, in a rather dark corner, Leon was almost panicking at the thought of being seen in such a position, "That would be so embarrassing, wouldn't it?"

Leon sighed at the feeling of (M/n)'s mouth against the skin of his neck, leaving kisses right where his pulse was, the vein throbbing as his heart rate picked up due to the pleasure and adrenaline.

His gloved hands gripped the table he was holding onto, hearing the old wood creaking under his grip, his eyes rolling back as he felt how (M/n)'s thrusts became faster, pounding deep inside him, biting on the crook of his shoulder as he held in a moan, spilling his hot cum inside Leon.

(M/n) sighed and tried to pull out, but Leon's walls clenched around his twitching cock, his muffled whimpers and whines reaching his ears.

"Oh~? You like that, puppy? You want my cum inside you?" Leon's body quivered at his tone of voice, and he managed to nod his head a couple of times, and with a smirk (M/n) turned his face toward him, "Tell me what you want, pup."

Moving his hand away so Leon could actually talk, (M/n) stroked his glistening lips, wetting the pad of his thumb and he watched how Leon took his thumb in his mouth, releasing a moan as he looked into (M/n)'s eyes.

"Breed me... I-i wanna feel your cum deep inside me, d-dripping down my thighs, reminding me that... I'm only yours, please, breed me full of your cum~," the way his eyes were shining made (M/n) clench his jaw, keeping a tight grip on Leon's hips and over his mouth, his hips snapping roughly into him.

He watched how Leon rolled his eyes into the back of his head, his gloved hands now gripping onto his forearm, his back arching as he pushed his hips back against you, making your cock reach deeper inside him.

(M/n) almost couldn't control himself, he was so close to actually fucking him and letting anyone and everyone hear those lewd whimpers and whines, but he managed not to, deciding on pleasing his pretty boy, and having him stuffed with his cum.

God, the thought... He just wanted to go back home and use Leon's body for hours on end, cumming inside him, on him, everywhere he could, he wanted to mark his gorgeous body, so everyone would know that he's already taken, that no other cock could make him feel like him.

Fuck- he was so down bad for the blond.

Extended ending.

Neither Luis nor Ashley mentioned anything about the dazed look Leon had, his face bright red as he also seemed to be walking slower than before, releasing a few groans every now and again.

They just saw (M/n) helping Leon on their way to the extract point, something was off but they didn't know what, even so, even if they were extremely curious as to what was happening to Leon, they decided to just keep going.

"Are you okay, darling?" (M/n) asked him when he was sure Luis and Ashley wouldn't hear him.

Leon gripped onto his forearm and leaned his weight on him, looking at him with tears in his eyes.

"I can... I feel your c-cum coming out, it's... It feels so good~," he whined desperately holding onto (M/n) who was debating whether he should ditch their other two companions just to make Leon unable to walk, unable to talk, or even both...

And the way he whimpered his name against his neck definitely didn't help his self-control.

#leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #re x male reader #re x reader #re4 x male reader #re4 x reader #resident evil leon #leon kennedy #resident evil smut #leon s kennedy #top male reader #male reader #x reader #reader insert #smut #.mackjlee9 writes

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wzrd-wheezes · 7 months

Text

Sharing - Sirius Black x Remus Lupin x Reader

AN - this was supposed to just be a Sirius smut but then my finger slipped and it turned into a threesome. This is filthy so read at your own risk. I’ll list the warnings below and as always, minors dni. (also i literally didn’t proof read this because tbh i couldn’t be arsed so sorry x)

contains: kind toxic!sirius/ fuckboy!sirius. friends with benefits, so much sex, oral and anal lol. dirty talk, degradation, dumbification kinda, choking and just general filth. read at ur own risk <3

Sirius let himself into Y/N’s flat, as he often did. It was a wonder that he didn’t have the spare key given the fact that he came over nearly every night. He walked into the living room confidently, the room instantly filling with the scent of his aftershave. Y/N was lounging on the sofa, curled up in the corner with a book clutched in her hand. She barely looked up when he came in, he only got her attention when he was stood right in front of her.

He was tall, he towered over Y/N by at least a foot and was broad in the shoulders, his black hair falling in waves just below his chin. His eyes were dark, rimmed with thick dark lashes that stared down at Y/N. Even though she wasn’t his girlfriend, he treated her with a possessive air that bordered on territorial, constantly flirting and placing a possessive hand on her back or hip whenever he could manage in.

“We meet again.” He finally spoke, his voice like a siren song. Y/N felt her heart rate speed up, her ears burning from the heat rising in her body, “What are you reading? Is it any good?” he asked, cocky smirk playing on his lips as his eyes flitted down her body, settling on the book in her hand.

“Yeah it is actually,” Y/N finally looked up at him properly and quickly flashed him the cover of her book, “Remus lent it to me.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” Sirius chuckled, sitting next to her on the sofa and resting on of his hands on her hip. His lips curled up into a mocking smile as he looked down at her, still taller than her even sitting down. Despite his smile, his eyes had a serious glint, “How is Remus, anyways?”

“He’s fine.” Y/N looked back down at her book, “He’s your best friend, you should know.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him, haven’t you?” Sirius asked, ignoring her last comment. His hand wandered upward, settling on her side above her hip. There’s a look in his eyes that makes her insides tighten and her whole body stiffens up in response.

“We’re friends.”

“Are you sure that’s all that you are?” His eyes travelled down her body, his smirk never leaving his face, “Because I think that there is... something else between you.” He paused, his gaze drifting back up to meet her own. The look in his eyes made her breath hitch.

“There’s not.” Y/N sighed, used to having been through this before, “I’m not sure why you’d be bothered if there was.” She closed her book and reached over to place it on the coffee table. Sirius’s hand never left her waist the whole time.

“I’m not bothered at all.” he said smoothly, “I’m just curious.”

Y/N didn’t say anything, she knew instantly that it was a lie. She’d seen his competitive side many times before and was used to the way that he would get incredibly possessive over her.

“I think you’re lying, love.” his hand creeped up to cup her cheek, his thumb softly brushing over her skin, “I know you’ve been spending more time with him, and I know that you’re not just going over to swap books like you tell everyone.” he continued, his voice husky.

“So, what?” Y/N turned to face him properly, “I’m not your girlfriend?”

“You know that I don’t want to share.”

“That’s hilarious,” she scoffed, “I know full well that you’re also sleeping with other people.”

“I can see and sleep with other girls.” he replied, his expression unchanging, “It’s not like we’re exclusive. I just don’t like it when you do it.”

He pulled her closer to him, his body pressing against hers. His fingers searched for the bottom of her shirt tugging at it slightly to expose some of her midriff and trailed his fingers down her bare skin. He pulled her so she was entangled in his arms, her head leaning against his chest.

“Did you sleep with Remus?” he pressed. Y/N didn’t reply and Sirius just cocked an eyebrow at her, “I knew you had something going on. I’m not stupid and I don’t miss anything. I always know when you’re trying to hide something from me.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it. Just didn’t think you’d appreciate me telling you that I was sleeping with your best mate.”

“Oh, I already knew.” Sirius smirked, “He told me the other day, I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at him. He was so infuriating sometimes. He had this air about him that just seemed to get him whatever he wanted. He was like a spoiled child that wasn’t used to not getting his own way or being told no.

“Was it good?” he asked, his voice low. He reached up and tangled his fingers in her hair.

The girl just nodded in response, not really knowing how to reply properly. She avoided his eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t notice that he was making her flustered. Sirius’s fingered tightened in her hair, pulling her head back so he could look at her.

“Tell me about it.” he breathed, bending down towards her, “Did you like how he touched you? How he kissed you?” His voice was dark and hoarse, and she could sense the jealous and possessiveness rolling off of him.”

“I never thought I’d see the day where Sirius Black gets jealous.” Y/N laughed, trying to take control of the situation.

“I’m always jealous.” his voice was softer now, “Jealous of the things and the people that you give your attention to. I always want to be the only one that you have eyes for. That’s how it should be. His face was so close now that their noses were almost touching. He drew her close to him, his hands sneaking up her shirt and running down her bare back. He trailed his lips across her cheek and the soft whisper of his breath made her shiver.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.” he chuckled, “You love my touch, my attention... and I bet you loved Remus touching you as well.”

“Shut up.”

“Is this making you a bit uncomfortable?” The grin on his face widened and his eyebrows raised. He leaned closer again, his lips brushing against her ear, “You loved it, didn’t you? You like when Remus touched you... touched you where only I’m allowed.”

“Tell me... did you like it?” His breath caught for a moment, the note of possessiveness back in his voice, “Did you like his hands on your skin, his lips on yours?”

“Yes! Fine! Yes, I liked it!” Y/N exclaimed, defeated by his relentless questioning.

“Do you want it to happen again?” he whispered, “Would you allow it, if he was here right now?”

“What? Here with you as well?”

“Perhaps,” he said, smiling again, “I could allow it. Would you like that, love?” His head dipped down and he caught her lips with his own, pulling her lower lip into his mouth with his teeth.

“Answer me.” he pulled away from her, “Would you like me and Remus?”

“Y-yeah...”

Sirius’s eyes flicked for a brief moment and the look of sheer elation on his face was almost comical. He crashed his lips against hers once again, this time the kiss was harsh and messy. His tongue forcing it’s way into her mouth and clashing against hers.

“Are you sure you can handle the two of us, darling?” he leaned back and his face twisted into a cocky grin, “That’s a lot to handle, you know.” his hand slid from her side to the back of her neck, bringing her close to him once more. With his other hand, he traced the fabric of her shirt, the tip of his finger just lightly brushing the skin of her stomach.

“I want to. I’m sure.”

“Oh, I know you want to.” he grinned, “So when should he come? Should I call him right now?”

“Y-yeah. Call him now.”

“You’re quite eager, aren’t you? You want him that bad already?” his eyes flickered down her neck, “Makes me wonder what else you’d be willing to do with a little motivation.”

Sirius grinned at her, his eyes glittering as he watched her respond. Y/N’s heart was hammering in her chest, her mind whirling from all the possibilities and thoughts racing through it. The dark-haired boy left the room, swiftly shutting the door behind him. Y/N could hear him murmuring as he spoke, presumably on the phone to Remus.

The door swung open and Sirius strutted back into the room, grin once again plastered on his face. This time, however, he didn’t sit back down on the sofa next to Y/N. Instead, opting to lean against the door frame, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“He’s on his way.” he announced, “How about we go to your room and get started? I’ll leave the front door unlocked for him, yeah?”

Y/N nodded and quickly got up, following him into her bedroom. Within seconds, Sirius had her pushed on the bed, sprawled out across the sheets. He climbed on top of her, all but pinning her down beneath him. Hot, messy kisses were pressed against her throat, Sirius’s fingers tangling in her hair.

Y/N jumped as she felt another presence next to her, the bed dipping down slightly as someone else climbed onto it. Another set of fingers weaved into her hair, pulling her head back from where Sirius was kissing her.

“Thought you said you were going to wait f’me?” Remus asked, his voice gruff.

“Couldn’t help myself. You understand, right?” Sirus smirked. Remus grinned back at him.

“You’re sure about this, yeah?” Remus asked, pulling Y/N up so she was sitting in front of them both.

“I’m sure.”

“Good girl.” Remus said, his voice low, “Are you ready for the two of us to ruin you?”

Remus captured her mouth with his, his hand trailing down her side, her stomach tightening at his touch. His lips were warm and soft, but firm, and he wasn’t gentle as he pushed her back down onto the bed.

Sirius moved so that he was sat behind Y/N, her fitting perfectly into the space between his legs, her back resting against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and ducked his head down so he could whisper in her ear.

“Are you going to let him touch you?” he murmured, his eyes flicking to Remus who was making short work of undoing her trousers and shuffling them down her legs, “You going to let him do whatever her wants? Going to let him ruin you?”

“I thought you didn’t like to share?” Y/N said, her voice breathless but still somehow managing to tease him.

“I can make an exception for this,” he shrugged, “And the answer is yes. You’re going to let him do whatever he wants. You’re going to let him touch you anywhere, everywhere. Do you understand?”

Y/N barely got chance to reply as Sirius’s ring clad fingers wrapped around her throat, applying pressure to the sides. Her eyes fluttered shut, lips parted slightly. A moan slipped out of her mouth as Remus buried his head between her thighs. Y/N’s body arched against Sirius’s as Remus’s tongue darted across her clit. He looked up at her, his chin glistening with her wetness.

“She’s a good little slut, isn’t she?” Remus said, his hands gently playing over her body.

“Mhm, the best.”

Sirius moved so that she was now laying flat on the bed with him kneeling next to her head. He unzipped his trousers, pulling out his member. He pumped it a few times before lifting her head up to meet it. The tip of it bumped against her lips and she quickly opened her mouth to take him inside. Sirius let out a low groan as her lips wrapped around him, her tongue swirling across the head of his dick.

“Looks so pretty with a cock in her mouth, too.” he said, affectionately stroking her hair as he thrust into her. He laughed when she gagged, one of his thrusts being slightly deeper than she was used to, “What? Too big for you, love?”

Remus chuckled, shuffling up the bed and kneeling the other side of Y/N. Like Sirius, he also removed his trousers, his cock now bobbing in front of her face. Remus’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as she switched between him and Sirius, sucking on each of their dicks for a few moments before swapping to the other one. Whoevers dick wasn’t currently in her mouth was being stroke by her spare hand, not wanting to leave one of the unattended. The room was filled with filthy groan and grunts for the two men as they had their way with her. It was only when Sirius got fed up that they decided to switch positions.

“Can’t wait any longer.” he grunted, “Wanna fuck that arse of yours.”

Y/N was on all fours, Remus positioned underneath her and Sirius knelt behind her, his cock brushing against the globes of her arse as they got into position. Remus pulled her down to kiss him, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Remus rubbed his cock up and down her folds a few times, coating himself in her wetness before finally plunging inside her. Y/N let out a loud moan as she stretched out around him. He gave her a few moments to adjust before starting to move.

They had just found their rhythm when Y/N felt Sirius smear lube over her rare entrance. He gently pushed a finger inside of her, stretching her out so that she was ready for him.

“We’ve done this before, love, yeah? Just like last time.” His voice was much softer now, and he pressed kisses against her shoulders as he slowly started sliding inside of her, “If it hurts too much tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”

“It’s fine. Feels good.” Y/N managed to get out.

“You like being filled up by two cocks, don’t you?” Remus smirked, his hands resting on her hips, guiding her to bounce on both of their dicks, “Such an eager little slut.”

“Filthy girl, aren’t you?” Sirius teased, “One of us just wasn’t enough for you, eh? Had to have us both?”

Y/N nodded frantically, too lost in the pleasure of it all to form a verbal response. Her teeth dug into Remus’s collarbone as she bit down to stifle the moans that were threatening to tumble from her lips.

“Don’t hide those pretty noises. We want to hear how dirty you sound, don’t we, Sirius?”

“Of course. Tell us how much you love being ruined by us.” he grumbled, “Or have we fucked you too dumb to speak?” The two men increased the pace of their thrusts, chuckling as Y/N tried to form coherent sentences to answer them.

“Feels so good.” Y/N gasped, “L-love being ruined by you both.”

“Clever girl.” Remus praised her, “But clearly we aren’t fucking you hard enough if you can still talk.”

Remus and Sirius both looked at each other, seeming to telepathically create some form of plan. Their thrusts became relentless, plunging deep inside her simultaneously, barely giving her chance to breath. Sirius’s hands wandered up to grip her throat again, pulling her back so he could get a better look at her face.

“I want to be the one that gets to see that pretty face as you cum around us.” His teeth grazed against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin and causing her to groan. Y/N just nodded frantically in response, her holes clenching around them both. Remus’s hands were still planted on her waist, guiding her up and down on his cock and Sirius slammed into the back on her. Her eyes began to roll back as she climbed the peak, her body growing weak and relying on them to hold her upright.

“Gonna cum inside of you at the same time, yeah”? Sirius groaned, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

“Gonna fill up those holes of yours.” Remus continued.

“Fuck.” Y/N moaned, her eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm came crashing down on her. Her breath quickened and she panted as they both continued to pound into her, chasing their own highs.

Strangled moans came from both men as they reached their peaks, their thrusts eventually slowing down. Sirius collapsed down on the bed, slipping out of her. The girl laid between them both, all three of them in a panting pile on the bed.

“Y’know what, I don’t think sharing is so bad after all.” Sirius laughed.

#remus lupin smut #sirius black smut #remus x sirius x reader #remus x sirius x reader smut #sirius x remus x reader smut #marauders smut

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athanasius-symposium-of-writings · 3 months

Note

Hi there! I was wondering if I could request a scenario for Identity V? Specifically for Norton? I love the way you write for him!

Okay so, it’s safe to say that since Norton and Fools Gold are basically the same person, they feel the same way about things, including people. What if the reader (female or gender neutral) discovers Norton’s feelings toward them after having a match against Fools Gold and confronts him about it? Like rather than chair the reader, FG acts possessive toward them and teases them? Confrontation with Norton could end in fluff or NSFW, up to you!

Thank you!

Fool's Gold be normal challenge part 2 lol but im mad i lost my idea midway (curse u adhd!)

Rated Mature | Warning: relationship -in psychologist voice-

With how long you have been running your chest is starting to hurt, which does not help the limited places to run are getting smaller and smaller. Luckily, the map is Chinatown and there are plenty of places to hide. Not so lucky, as the hunter is well aware of those places. Not a rare map to be placed in but frequent as the Arms Factory or Sacred Heart Hospital.

With a dash upstairs and your legs give out, your chest burns but your heart does not stop racing as the hunter is still nearby.

You have been tunnel-hunted before by hunters, never for a reason-- Sometimes. However, you have never felt like a mouse in a game of cat and mouse, there is a teasing nature and you hate it. Fool’s Gold can be mean but he is no Ithaqua or Ripper, still for him to get seemingly off on you running away— His laugh loud— Worries you. The costume he has on does not help as he looks like a demon from the seven hells ready to claim your soul!

“Sparky, where are you~!” In a sing-song voice as he comes up the stairs. You go still, your dark costume is to your advantage as you hide behind a mannequin. The heavy footsteps have you holding your breath as you emerge from the stairway. His eyes looked around, his intimidating height towering above everything. He turns in your direction, golden stylized pickaxe but then lowers it as he hears a cipher pop.

“I will be back for you later.”

You have experienced fear but the rush of it never gets easier.

The hunter throws his weapon before using the magnetism to pull himself out of the opening in the store. You dash immediately out the other way refusing to just pray he forgets you.

He does not, he waits for you to be rebirthed by Embalmer's casket. You stumble out still hurt but alive, Fool's Gold leaning against a wall cleaning the caked-on blood on his hand, his pickaxe nowhere in sight.

“Sparky.”

“Only Norton calls me that.” Getting ready to book it.

“I am Norton.” Stepping forward, “Better than that brat.” You step to the side.

“No, you are some fucked ‘what if’.”

Fool's Gold stands at his full height, his one eye glowing almost brighter in this dark area, “Careful, sparky, I can let you escape through the dungeon if you behave.”

“I will hit you.” That makes him laugh, “I have one fuse left, we can go together.” Because you are not above being crazy.

“That I do not doubt,” Closer but you stand firm, “But you used all your tools. Too bad it didn't help that prison rat.” When you actually attempt to hit him, he is careful not to use his solid hand. His deformed hand holds you in place, the magnetism holding it together is used to keep you on the table as you try thrashing about. “You could've left him alone!”

“Yeah? Maybe you should've let me have you.” Standing over you, “Kiting me only pissed me off.” It is true the time he had you in his sights you made your business to be annoying. He scares you! Like right now. Being pinned down on a table with him between your legs. His solid hand traces your face.

“He didn't mark you.” Spoken when he yanks down your top to expose your neck and part of your chest. The marks on your skin are always from Norton, friends with benefits arrangement.

“What, you plan on doing it for him?” Playing fearless but you are fearful, this is the darker part of Norton. The demon everyone tries to hide made manifest, Norton hates it— Hates him.

“Why else do you think I have you here and not bleeding you out.” As if he would waste his time bleeding out anyone, maybe himself but that work he does not feel like bothering with. “Are you going to fight me?”

You weigh your options, “Mess around and find out, sport.”

His grin is wide, His teeth look sharp, and your inner masochist is excited.

He let you go via the dungeon, your legs hurt and you know your chest and neck must look like a mess. Easy to hide until you find Norton in your room waiting. He hates it when you have matches with his counterpart, especially the tunnel-hunting you most of the time.

“(Name).” Standing up the moment you entered, he put down the charm you made him on the bed where he was sitting.

“We should talk.”

Talking usually with Norton means he has to sit and listen and consider things, you only inform him so he has time to process and return to you. However, given the things Fool's Gold— Other Norton—was open about. Details are murky as he is not exactly like Norton, but the raw feelings are there, all laid bare because he refuses to standby and let his other self be an idiot.

The conversation is long, but no tears, and a few awkward silences but it ends with an understanding. Sex does not happen, Norton learning the ability to be grateful does not mean sex. Plus, the prospector is conflicted about how his other self thinks he has the right to touch you.

“I mean he is you?”

“I don't care! You're mine.”

“Oh, can you say that again for me, sport?”

#anon ask #idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #identity v x you #idv prospector #idv fool's gold #fool's gold x reader #fool's gold x you #norton campbell x you #norton campbell x reader #idv norton #idv x you #idv x reader

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strangermarvelss · 2 years

Text

positive- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Hopper!AFAB!Reader

Summary: you find out you’re pregnant with eddie’s baby

Warnings: ANGST, hopper being angry, eddie being a dingus, crying, fighting, mentions of abortion, cursing, fluff, happy ending

Request?: Yes

Reader is hoppers daughter, and finds out she’s pregnant. I want so much angst my heart breaks

I’d love some kind of angst situation between hopper daughter reader, hopper and Eddie. Really open to anything, if you could include El too that would be great. Like reader and her get into an argument or something about Eddie and then that leads to hopper finding out reader is dating Eddie. Then more angst lol

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: this is the first fic in the collab sleepover i’m doing and ooh it’s exciting! also this may be a hopper afab reader, but i didn’t include any details about race or anything particular, so it could be read as an adoptive hopper daughter as well, i just don’t mention that in the fic. enjoy! -sava

Positive. Fucking positive.

You throw the test against the bathroom wall, a frustrated groan escaping your lips. The past year of your life had been amazing and you thought things couldn’t get any better, and that was correct. The universe saw your happiness and decided to knock you down a peg, only this was a very big peg.

You’ve managed to keep your relationship with Hawkin’s resident metalhead, Eddie Munson, a secret for a little over year now, with only a selected few knowing. The main reason you kept it a secret was due to word traveling fast in this town, and your father being police chief Jim Hopper doesn’t help. One wrong move and the two of you would be busted, and you didn’t even want to think about what your father would do if he found out.

Although it was going to be hard hiding a baby bump for a whole nine months. Then hide the actual baby.

You felt tears pricking behind your eyes, the frustration becoming overwhelming as your mind becomes full of hundreds of scenarios that could happen. You feel a few tears trickle down your cheeks as you hug your knees close to your chest. Your dad was going to kill you or Eddie, or even both of you, and that was the last thing you wanted, especially if you didn’t get to tell Eddie about the unexpected news.

Eddie’s reaction was another you were worried about. The two of you never talked about the possibility of kids, considering you were both so young and the relationship was still being built up, even a little over a year later. Plus, you were barely out of high school and Eddie is about to start his second repeat of his senior year, so the two of you were not mature enough to raise a child, especially with Eddie’s dreams of making it big and escaping Hawkins once and for all.

“Y/N? Are you almost done? I have to use the restroom,” Your sister, El calls out from behind the door. Before you have a chance to answer, she opens the door and you let out a grunt.

“El what the fuck!” You yell out, standing up and running to where you threw the test, quickly hiding it behind your back. Her eye flicker down to your hands before looking at your eyes again.

“What is that?” She asks, pointing to behind you.

“Nothing,” you shrug. You try your best to keep a neutral face, but you know you can’t keep things from your sister. Your heart rate begins to quicken, scared of how this is all going to play out.

“Siblings don’t lie,” she tells you simply, giving you a knowing look. You roll your eyes and go to move past her, trying to get to your bedroom before she can question you further.

“That bullshit line might work on your friends, but it won’t work on me, El. Just let it go,” you tell her, turning the knob to your door, but before you can walk in she uses her powers to shut it on you. You turn to her with a glare and cross your arms.

“Please talk with me. Maybe…maybe I can help?” She asks, her features soft as she takes a step closer to you.

“El, please, can we talk about it later? I don’t need Dad hearing this conversation.”

“Why not?” Hopper asks, his figure frozen in the door way. You both turn your heads towards the door, not having heard the door even open. You slowly blink at him, feeling as if your eyes were playing tricks on you. This cannot be happening right now.

“Y/N is hiding something from me! And she looks upset so I just want to help,” El explains to him. You run your free hand over your face, a groan leaving your lips.

“Y/N? What are you hiding? You can tell us anything, you know that right?” Your father questions, taking more steps inside the cabin and closing the door behind him.

“Yeah well, not everything,” you mumble under your breath. Your father’s eyebrows shoot up in a concerned expression.

Suddenly, you watch El sneakily go behind you and grab the used test from your hands, your throat letting out a loud scream and attempt to grab it back from her, only for your father to grab it from her and hold it above his head for a moment.

You’re absolutely fucked.

He lowers the test to eye level and examines it, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he looks up at you. You quickly look to the floor, not wanting to be the subject of your father’s intense gaze.

“Y/N…why the fuck do you have a positive pregnancy test?” He asks, his voice low but calm, which was scarier than his yelling voice at times. Your lips are tightly pressed together, unable to form a coherent sentence to answer him.

“What does that mean? Did you pass the test?” El questions unknowingly. Part of you wanted to laugh at her question, knowing she genuinely was curious as she’s never encountered a situation like this before. You peer up at your father, his face twisted in rage, sending an unsettling feeling to the pit of your stomach.

“El, go to your room...now. Y/N, answer the goddamn question,” he demands. You watch El scurry off to her room, leaving the door open three inches as she always did.

“The test…it’s mine,” you whisper out, but loud enough for him to hear. Looking at him, you watch as he turns to the wall closest to him and slams his fist against it. Flinching, you feel yourself leaning against the door, cowering a little.

You loved your relationship with your father, the two of you always being close since you can remember. But he was strict, and you knew it was because he cared about you. Most of his rules were obtainable, but you found it unfair that El was allowed to have a boyfriend, even if your father hated him, and be out in the open with that relationship. Whereas you were not allowed the same luxury.

“How could you be so reckless?! You know you’re not even allowed to date, I assumed you knew that applied to sex as well! Like seriously, Y/N did you even think this through?” He screamed. You felt the tears begin to fall again, unable to keep the eye contact with him. “Who is this punk? I need to go set him straight.”

“No! Dad, I haven’t even told him yet, please just calm down,” you plead, walking forward towards him. Your face was full of sadness as you looked at him, but the only thing you could focus on was the disappointment etched within this face.

“Absolutely not. You’ve lost my trust and now you’re not going anywhere for the foreseeable future, I’ll make sure of it,” he yells, his face dangerously close to yours. Tears continue to roll down your face as anger bubbles in your chest.

“You’re being so unfair right now! How come its okay for El to be with Mike all the time, but I even think about having a boyfriend, and it’s the biggest crime in the world? It’s such a double standard!” You yell back. His face contorts into a surprised expression, which you were surprised about as well. You weren’t big on fighting him back on things, but this was scaring the shit out of you, and his reaction wasn’t helping the matter.

“Yeah? Well El isn’t out there having sex! Hell, I didn’t think you were either, but I guess I was wrong,” he huffs. He wipes his hand across his face and lets out a long sigh. “I just don’t understand how you could be so stupid.”

Your lip begins to wobble as you look to the floor once more, this words cutting deep. You hated being on his bad side, and having him insult you for a mistake just made you feel worse. You scurry across the room and grab your car keys from the table beside your father’s chair and make a quick escape, running to your car and opening the driver’s door.

“No, no, no! Where the hell are you going?!” Hopper shouts from the doorway. You wipe away your tears that had puddled on your cheeks, looking at him.

“I’m sorry you hate me dad, but I have to go tell the father. He deserves to know before I’m never seen by the world again.”

———————————————————————————————

Your knuckles knock against the door to Eddie’s trailer, your hands beginning to shake. Comfort was the only thing you wanted most in the world right now, your life doing a complete 180 turn just by taking a simple test. Eddie may have a tough exterior demeanor he puts on for the rest of the town, but he was a sweetheart deep down, a side of him you loved being able to see. He was a safe haven that you never knew you could need.

Eddie comes into view as the door opens, his smile stretching across his face as his eyes meet yours. You look at him with a worried expression, still visibly shaking, which he is quick to notice. He approaches you and immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you close to his body and he rubs his hands against your arms.

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asks as he motions you inside. You walk through the door of the trailer and into the living area, sitting on the couch as your leg bounces. Eddie swoops in and sits next to you, his hand interlocking with yours and rubbing small circles against the back of your hand. You look over at him with doe eyes, fear banging around your chest.

“M-my dad knows. About u-us,” you let out, your hand gesturing between the two of you. His eyes go wide, fear written across the once smiling face.

“I’m sorry…what?” He asks you. His thumb was still rubbing small circles on your hand, which was starting to ease your worries, but not entirely. You simply nod at him, looking down to advert his gaze as you let out a long sigh. “H-how’d he find out?”

“He found my pregnancy test,” you mumble, your eyes glued to the floor. Eddie’s movements against your hand come to a halt, his hand dropping from your own, making you look up at his eyes, which are wider than they were before, his jaw hung open.

Your throat became dry all of a sudden, the silence in the room becoming suffocating. Eddie’s eyes were locked on yours, searching for any indicator that you were joking, just fucking around and pulling his leg. You let a tear slip past the dam that had built up, shaking your head as you bury your head in your hands.

“How the hell did this happen?” Eddie finally manages to let out.

“Believe it or not Eds, the pull out method doesn’t always work,” you chuckle out, a pathetic attempt to ease the tension that lurked in the air, but you’re only met with an unamused glare from your boyfriend.

“This isn’t funny, Y/N,” he says, rising from the couch and beginning to pace in the living room. You try to hide the hurt that hits your chest at his tone when saying your name and the lack of pet name accompanying his words, shaking it out a bit. “What the fuck are we going to do? I’m not ready to be someone’s fucking father! Jesus H. Christ, I should’ve had condoms on hand at all times.”

“I don’t know, Eds. I’m j-just really fucking scared,” you tell him honestly. He shoots you a knowing look, his face emotionless.

“Yeah no shit, me too,” he stops his motions, snapping his fingers as the lightbulb above his head goes off. “W-what if you got an abortion?”

Your eyebrows raise as you look at him, shocked that it was his first suggestion. You’d be lying if you said the thought hadn’t crossed your mind, but this information was still new, you wanted to try and talk with Eddie to see what the two of you could do about this situation before thinking of that. It was really just a last resort for you.

“I-I don’t think I want that,” you answer simply. He lets out a groan and runs his hands over his face, turning away from you and hunching a bit.

“Then what the fuck do you want to do then, Y/N? We’re not ready to be parents! Shit, I’m still in goddamn high school! I can’t even think about a baby right now, plus you know about my plans to get out of this fuckin’ town-“

“Yeah Eddie, I’m fully aware of your plans. I had plans too but accidents like this happen,” you yell out. He turns back to look at you, surprised by the sudden change in tone. “I get that you’re not ready to be a parent, and I’m not either, but we’re both to blame for this shit, okay? Don’t try and put this all on me,” you stand from your seat and point a finger into his chest. He smacks it away and lets out another frustrated groan.

“I’m not putting it all on you! You’re the one who doesn’t know if they want an abortion, so I’m out of options here. I told you I don’t want to be a dad now, so I’m done!” He all but screams. You take a step back from him, shock seeping into your bones as you look at him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean ‘you’re done’?” You ask him. He shakes his head and chuckles maliciously for a second before turning to you once more.

“It means I’m done with this conversation. I’ve shared my peace, so do what you want. It’s not like I have a real say anyway,” he responds. You feel your heartstrings tug tightly, pain surging throughout your chest as you let out a deep sigh, fighting to keep any more tears from falling.

Eddie’s figure retreats into his room, slamming the door closed and quickly puts on his stereo, the volume booming and shaking the entire trailer. You hold yourself in your position for a moment, your face crumpling into a sad expression now that your boyfriend, if you should still call him that, was out of eyesight.

You will yourself to walk towards the door of his trailer and down the steps, opening your car door once more and hopping inside. You weren’t sure where you’d end up going, with the two places you felt safest and loved most tumbling down all because of an accident you didn’t mean to happen. Turning on the engine, you back out of your parking spot and drive towards the exit of the Forrest Hills trailer park, unsure of your next destination.

———————————————————————————————

The suns seeping in through the cheap motel blinds pulls you from your sleep, sitting up on the bed and stretching your arms with a yawn. You decided to not bother anyone else you were close to with the news of your unplanned pregnancy, having already severed ties with the two men in your life you loved most and not wanting to break anymore relationships. You were able to pay for a night’s stay at a motel on the outskirts of Hawkins with the money you kept on you for emergencies, now regretting that as you’d need as much money as you could get your hands on to raise a child, or an out of state stay for an abortion procedure, if it came down to it.

You quickly get dressed back in your pants from yesterday, having slept in only your shirt and underwear. You grab what little belongings you had with you and exit the room, returning the key to the front desk worker who helped you last night.

The drive back to the cabin felt shorter than it was, your mind thinking back on the events that transpired the day before and the pang of sadness flooding your system returning the closer you got back to your home. You’re not sure what’s going to happen when you walk through the door, but hopefully gathering your belongings wouldn’t cause too much damage.

Parking the car, you’re surprised to see the police vehicle still sitting in front of the cabin, making your nerves worsen as you approach the steps. Turning the knob, you walk inside and see Hopper sitting across from El, who has a blindfold on and sitting with her legs crossed on the floor. Your father turns to you and lets out a huff, tapping El on the knee to tell her to stop her motions. She removes her blindfold and her face lights up at the sight of you, making you feel a bit better about the situation.

“Hi,” you let out, a small wave accompanying your words. El waves back to you and stands, running over and wrapping her arms around you. You return the gesture and cross your arms around her shoulders, resting your chin on top of her head.

“Where were you last night kid?” Your father asks, now standing with his arms crossed on the other side of the room. You retreat from El and cross your arms as well, looking to the floor to avoid his disappointed gaze.

“I slept at a motel, but it seems you might've figured that out,” you reply as you gesture to El, who has a nervous smile on her face after being called out for using her powers. You feel El’s hand rub your back softly, sending her a slight smile before peering up to your father’s eyes.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he tells you simply.

“Felt like I did.”

“Just because I’m upset about what happened, doesn’t mean I don’t love you and don't want you at home, where it is safe. I was just…shocked to hear it all at once. You’re dating, having…intercourse, and now having a baby? It was a lot to take in yesterday, and my temper got the best of me. I didn’t mean to scare you off,” he explains to you. Your face softens as you listen to him, the sadness from yesterday beginning to feel slightly better.

“Thanks Dad,” you say. You walk closer to him and wrap your arms around his torso, burying your head in his chest. He snakes his arms around your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. You feel a surge of emotions rush throughout your system. “I’m really scared.”

“I know, I know kiddo. But El and I will be here for you, whatever you want to do, okay?” he pulls back a little and looks you in the eyes. He wipes your tears away with his hand and you smile. El comes by you guys and joins your hug, sending you into a fit of giggles as you all embrace each other.

The three of you hang out for the rest of the day, talking about your options and later playing card games to help distract you from the whole scenario. Your father asked about the father once again, but when he saw your expression and change in body language when bringing it up, he didn’t harp on the matter any further.

After retreating off to your own room, you put on a cassette tape in your room on a low volume before sitting on your bed, the door open three inches like your father always requests. You pull open a notepad and begin making a list of pros and cons of your options regarding the child growing inside you currently, trying to think quickly on a definitive decision on this life changing situation you’ve been dealt.

A light tapping sound pulls you from your motions, looking outside your bedroom window to see the silhouette of Eddie waving his hand timidly. You roll your eyes and go back to your list, only to be met with more intense tapping. You toss the list aside and go over to your window, lifting it enough to see him in the light of your bedroom.

“What do you want Eddie?” You ask him, crossing your arms. He lets out a sigh and points to inside your room, making you shake your head. “He’s home, so that definitely wouldn’t be the best idea. Considering our new predicament as well…”

“Fine, um…how about you meet me on your porch stairs?” He suggests, his eyes wide but soft as they look at you. You nod and shut the window, making an escape from your bedroom and walking past your dad in the living room, catching a glimpse of whatever show he was watching while lounging in his recliner. You open the front door and shut it quickly, seeing Eddie’s figure dash from behind the cabin. You sit down on the steps and let out a sigh as he joins you.

“How are you? Everything going okay with you and, uh…it?” He questions, pointing towards your stomach. You roll your eyes once more and look towards him.

“Yep, as good as it can be,” you answer simply. You play with your hands and look down towards your feet, the insects around you filling the silence that began to loom about you two.

“I’m really sorry about yesterday, Y/N,” he tells you, his voice coming out quiet and sincere. You look over at him with a sympathetic smile, his lips curving into one as well. “I was just so scared and I didn’t know how to let my feelings be known. A shit childhood can stunt you like, believe it or not.”

You giggle at his attempt to ease the tension, knowing that it can be difficult for him to express how he feels at moments. He’s never been given a chance to be treated right or brought up to know what’s good and bad, not until he was placed in Wayne’s care, but it’s hard to mold and condition a brain that’s nearly fully developed.

“I get that, Eds, I do. But I was scared too. Got yelled at by my dad and embarrassed in front of El? It just felt really bad coming over to you for comfort but finding the exact opposite,” you explain to him. You watch him nod and reach out for you, closing the space between you and resting your head on his shoulder, his hand rubbing the arm snaked around you.

“I know baby, I really am sorry. If it helps, Wayne tore me a new one today after I explained it all to him. He really wasn’t happy with the way I treated you, which kinda helped me pull my head out of my ass and come here to apologize,” he reveals. You laugh and reach for his free hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

“That kind of does help actually,” you tell him with a smile. His laugh causes his entire body to move, shaking you a bit as well.

“So…how are things with your dad? He still upset?”

“He probably is, but we spent the day talking about what my options are, and he said he and El will be there for me no matter what I decide to do,” you answer him.

“Well you can add me to that list, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be on board with whatever you decide, and we’ll get through it together, alright?” He lifts you gently from his shoulder to look you in the eyes, his chocolatey orbs glistening in the moonlight. You nod your head softly and press your lips to his, inhaling the scent of his leather jacket and cigarette breath.

“YOU NEVER TOLD ME THE FATHER WAS THE FUCKING MUNSON KID!” Your father shouts from the door way. The two of you pull away from one another with wide eyes and Eddie all but jumps to his feet off the porch, making you giggle just a bit.

“Hey Chief, hope you’re doing well. I really like your daughter sir, but I’m gonna-gonna go now. Love you Y/N, see ya later sweetheart!” He rushes out, sprinting towards his van as your father runs down the stairs in an attempt to catch him, all while you and El, who had been standing behind your dad, sit back on the porch laughing at the two boys.

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thequeendesi · 10 months

Text

Two Pink Lines

Title: Two Pink Lines

Alt Title: I’ve Heard Worse News

Warnings: swearing, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of bad childhood

Pairing: Fezco x Reader x Platonic!Ash (lil bro ash and big sis reader ftw)

Disclaimer: I don’t own you or the euphoria franchise. I own the writing.

Rating: PG I reckon

Word count: 2k

A/N: I haven’t written anything in three months! I hope this doesn’t suck! I’ve had so much going on lately! I’ve gotten into my own place w my bf, I had a car crash, a major pregnancy scare, and a job promotion lol. I’m doing alright rn, so I figured I’d take the chance and finally get something out again! Thank you all for being so so kind and patient w my inconsistent ass 😂 I genuinely love all of y’all!!

✨✨

You sighed, placing the test face down on the counter. Music playing from your phone to try and ease your nerves. Snooze by SZA playing low as you slipped down the wall. You pulled your knees to your chest as you allowed the song to play through, your brain running the entire time.

The jokes you made to your boyfriend, Fez, were just that. Jokes. In no way did you actually think you were ready for children. You had just graduated from East Highland less than a week ago.

Your childhood wasn’t the most pleasant. You had been living with your boyfriend since you two were 13 and 14. Fez was all you knew, and you were all he knew. You knew everything about him and his life. His grandma, his job, his brother. And you fit like a glove in all of it. His grandmother took you in with open arms and loved you as her own.

You didn’t know what you’d do with a baby, you didn’t know where it would fit into your current life. You worked at the local breakfast place, it was like a Waffle House, but called MeeMaw Judy’s Home.

Your mind drifted to Fez. He didn’t want kids. You knew for a fact because he always told you “keep it movin’ ma”, everytime you passed baby aisles. Hell, the two of you even had talked about it last night. As far as Fezco was concerned, he didn’t see a baby in y’all’s plans for at least another 4 years.

The song ended and you took a deep breath. You couldn’t begin to explain how long those 3 minutes were. “Alright.” You whispered to yourself as you stood up, turning over the test you stared at them. Two pink lines. You’re not even sure you’ve ever seen pink lines so dark.

“Fuck.” You whispered as you placed the test on the counter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” you said, voice cracking at the last fuck, tears welling in your eyes. You had false positives before, only for the next test to have been negative. But this time you knew you were pregnant. Nausea, fatigue, as well as paired with your period being late not one, but two weeks? Oh yea, your eggo is preggo.

Your thoughts ran to a complete halt as the door opened. “(Y/N)! Can you make waffles… what the fuck is all of this?” Ash asked, looking at the test on the counter. Your heart sank as you tried to explain. “Look, I just… just please get out. Please.” You pleaded, trying to push him out. “Hey, it’s ok. Stop stressin’. Y’a’int in trouble. Just… y’know. Take a deep breath.”

Ash grabbed your hand, thumb rubbing over your knuckles, a trait he picked up from Fez after he noticed it helped you calm down. “Ash, please. I need to think of how to tell Fez.” Ash shook his head before leading you to sit on the couch. “Worry about calmin’ your ass down first. You’re acting like your life is over. It’s just a baby.” Ash let go of your hand.

You felt yourself relax a little. How was he so calm? How is your life not over? Taking another look at the test, you grabbed it. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” You walked out of the bathroom to the living room.

You sat on the couch and let go of the breath you were holding. “Why’re you so freaked out?” Ash asked, taking a seat next to you.

“Ash, you’re 14. I really don’t think any of this is your business. You’re too young.” You said, placing the test face down on the table.

“(Name).” Ash said plainly, looking at you.

“Okay. Fair.” You nodded, before taking a deep breath. You’re really about to vent to your boyfriend’s 14 year old brother? Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Ash looked at you as a mother figure, seeing as his only real one was incapacitated.

“Fez doesn’t want kids. Not now at least.” You

“Well, ya should’ve been safer, huh?” He crossed his arms. “What’s the plan (Y/N)?” Ash asked you, leaning back into the couch.

“I don’t know. Haven’t thought that far ahead. A minute ago I found out I’m…” The words got caught in your throat as you leaned onto the couch as well. “You think MeeMaw’ll let me bring a kid to work?” You half joked.

“I’ve seen what she allows, it wouldn’t surprise me.” Ash said, a small smile finding itself on his rather stoic face.

Mrs. Judy, or MeeMaw as you and everyone called her, was a kinder old lady. Standing at a firm 4’10 inches, she’s seen a thing or two. She was always kind to you, making sure you had food to bring home to the boys. She knew your upbringing and the conditions that landed you to who you became.

“When’s Fez supposed to come home anyways?” You asked Ash. “Not sure. He’s sellin’ at some kid’s party tonight. What’s her name, Kat, I think?” He shrugged. “He probably won’t be home until midnight then,” you sighed, rubbing your face, “gives me at least 2 hours to think about what I’m gonna do.”

“I got somethin’ you can do then.”

“Waffles?” You half-laughed, looking at Ash through your fingers. “I think we need to buy eggs and milk for it actually.”

“Damn.” He placed his arms next to his sides. “We can watch a movie?” You suggested. “I got Maddy’s Netflix.” You shrugged.

“Better than waitin’ around for nothin’.” Ash grabbed the remote and handed it to you.

Turning on a movie on Netflix, some random movie by Adam Sandler, who’s movies were yours and Ash’s favorite way to pass time.

He quickly tuned into it, but your eyes glued onto the white slender test. Millions of thoughts ran through your mind.

Was Fez gonna be mad?

Was he gonna leave? Or more so, make you leave?

Was he gonna tell you it’s ok?

Was he gonna marry you? God, what a thought. Marriage wasn’t a bad thing, by no means. When it works.

By 12, your mother had been married 6 times, and two of them were remarriages to your father. Screaming, crashing and crying was no stranger to you.

You remember the argument your parents had that led them to that final divorce and you into Fez’s home.

“(Mother Name)! What’s this shit? You’re pregnant? Again?!”

“I was gonna tell you! You went snooping through the trash? Are you fucking insane?!” CRASH, you heard as the test that was thrown at the picture frame that had a picture of you holding your half-brother. You sniffed the tears back as you packed your bag faster.

“You should’ve wrapped it if you didn’t want this shit!” She screamed at him. “Fuck that! You’re just as much to blame! Is it even mine, whore?!”

“Oh fuck you, you bastard!”

“No thank you! That’s how we landed here! Just go! Go and fucking take your goddamn mistakes with you!”

Mistake? That’s all your father thought of you?

“You act like I wanted to get pregnant again, or any time beforehand! I didn’t want these fucking kids anymore than you or Jerald and Will did! Besides, (Name) is the only one here!”

Nevermind, there was your mother being the way she was. You looked at the broken glass on the floor as you stood in the doorframe.

“I’m not going with her.” You stated, in your broken little voice. “You’re not fucking staying with me.”

“I wasn’t fucking planning on it.” You walked past your father. “The fuck are you going?” Your mother asked.

“Why do you care?” You grabbed the doorknob, the rest of your body turning to look at your parents. “I’m a mistake to both of you, so why is it such a big fucking deal if I just grant you both your wish of getting out of your hair?” You asked them, tears free-flowing down your cheeks.

“Why the hell did you have kids if you hate them?” You asked them. “Why do I have to be an adult when I’m 13?”

Your parents stared at you, expression unrecognizable. “Well, just so you know, I hate you guys. So don’t worry, the feelings aren’t one sided.” You opened the door and walked out, closing it behind you.

You used your finger to wipe the tear that began to slip down your cheek. You haven’t seen your parents since that day, hell, you don’t even know if they’re alive or dead. You sent a graduation invitation to the house your mother lived at, but received the initiation back with RETURN TO SENDER in red letters over your face.

You looked over at Ash, who was fast asleep with his head on your lap. You smiled a little at him, and your gaze returned to the test.

Your phone began ringing from the bathroom and you gently placed Ash’s head on the couch. He curled up in a ball as he got re-comfortable. You walked to the bathroom and grabbed your phone.

Answering the call, you placed the phone to your ear. “Hey ma.” Fez’s voice sounded like honey over the phone. “Hey baby.” You said, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you threw the box in the trash. “Ash ‘sleep?” He asked.

“Mhm.” You answered, walking back to the living room to grab the test.

“You good?” He asked into the phone as you heard his blinker. “Yea… no. I just… we gotta talk when you get home.” You answered, walking to the front door. “I’ll just meet you at the car so we can talk without waking up Ash.” You told him, hanging the phone up.

You walked to the front of the house and leaned against the gate. You put the test in your bra as you waited.

Your breath got caught in your throat as you watched the bright lights pull in front of you. Putting your head down you walked over to the passenger seat and got in.

“What’s wrong?” He looked at you, his hand moving to hold your face. His hand rested on your cheek as he made you look at him. “Whatever it is, ma, it’s gonna be aight.” He said, thumb stroking the soft flesh of your cheek.

Your lip quivered as you let go of the breath you were holding. “I’m pregnant, Fez.” You said straight out, taking the test out of your bra to hand to him, eyes drifting to the floor.

“Oh.” His hand leaves your cheek to grab the test, turning on an overhead light, he looks at it. “I’m sorry.” You sniffed, eyes welling with tears as you stared at your feet on the floorboard.

“Whatchu sorry for? This ain’t bad news. I thought you was finna tell me someone died.” He looked at you. “It ain’t like we knew it was gonna happen. Shit happens, ma. We’ll figure it out, somehow. Hell, grandma did.”

“You’re not mad?” You asked him. “I’m not thrilled. But that part ain’t important no more.” He took your face in his hands, test between his fingers. “You’re what’s important to me, ma. Without you, I don’t know where I’d be.” He kissed you softly. “We’re gonna have a baby. I’ve heard of worse news from you.” He said against your lips.

“I was scared you’d yell at me.” You confessed.

“Yell?” He pulled away from you. “Not about somethin’ like this.” He shook his head. “We got other shit to worry about rather than yellin’. Yellin’ ain’t gon’ get anything done other than stress my babies out.” He said simply.

“I got milk and eggs. Ash texted me.” He said.

“I guess I ain’t getting out of making them waffles, huh?”

“You figured you know better about that.” Fez half joked, grabbing the milk and eggs bag from the backseat.

“Now come on, I’m tired. It’s been a long night. We can talk more in the morning.” You patted his thigh and kissed his cheek.

He laughed a little and nodded his head. “Alright ma.”

#des’ writing #euphoria x reader #desi’s oneshot #desi’s writing #fezco x reader #euphoria fez #euphoria fezco x reader #euphoria imagine #fezco imagine

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spookykoolkat · 8 months

Text

the red j.m. | chapter four

CHAPTER FOUR: NO GOOD

series masterlist | main masterlist |

previous chapter | next chapter

pairings: older!joel miller x plus sized!younger!reader

chapter summary: you've been in jackson for a month now and things are still a little rough. you haven't found the right crowd to fit into yet, and thought maybe you might have to settle for the family of four you already know, until you meet your patrol partner, tyler. unfortunately, joel doesn't seem to like the idea of you with any other man but him.

warnings: 18+ age gap (joel is 57, reader is turning 26), inappropriate thoughts, sexual language, teasing, touching, slight jealous!joel, x-rated descriptions, crude language, perv!joel, creepy!joel, mean joel not too mean tho, MDNI!!!

wc: 6.2k

na: HI! thank you for alllll of the love oh my god my little gothic heart is so full i love you guys!!! i hope this series is everything and more to you guys bc i love this so much! hopefully as chapters go by, i get better in my writing and hope everyone enjoys it! i appreciate all of your kind words and interactions with me and making me feel welcome since i am new to writing on tumblr and kind of took a six year break from writing oneshots/fanfictions LOL. anyways please enjoy this chapter things are g3tting a little hot and heavy :P I CANT WAITT i hope that my writing is cathartic for my big girls we do not get enough representation for us in stories and writings!please enjoy! smut coming soon fr fr LMFAOO

i appreciate all reblogs, likes and comments feel free to do any one of those things or ALL! if u think its deserved :P

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

DECEMBER 21ST, 2024

YOU

you’ve been in jackson for a month now. you couldn’t believe it, you truly had every doubt about staying even a week. but, it’s probably the calmest life you’ve lived in a very long time. you enjoyed it and you truly felt you’d made the right decision, it didn’t take much convincing either. but, you still haven’t unpacked the items maria gave you and continues to give you. just in case.

the neighbors are learning your name, as you are with them, and they actually care. as much as you let them. you felt quite bad because you found yourself still not clicking with anyone around you. and you’ve tried. the people your age find you boring, almost a dark cloud over them, bursting their bubbles. younger kids only approach you because of ellie, asking for advice on stance and grip. the older group, around tommy and joel’s age, finds you a bit much.

your language, your lack of social awareness–sometimes it gets embarrassing. saying something old heads wouldn’t necessarily like, being too blunt and a little explicit. joel figured you should hang around your age group, yet you didn’t really click in with the rest. he was far from embarrassed being around you, you just said the things he was thinking out loud.

you only found yourself clicking with joel. in many ways, as much as he let you. he was standoffish most of the time, barely cracking a smile at your weird habits and the noises you make when you’re passed out on the couch. he refused to let you break him, this wall that he had up to survive. do not get attached. he thought, maybe the less he knew you the less it’d hurt to have anything happen to you. but it seems even as little as he does know you, he’s still feeling that tug at his heart laying his eyes on you.

it was too late. whoops.

joel doesn’t want to address that feeling, and he doesn’t want to call it as it is. he actually cares about you. he had no choice but to call it that, because why else would he lie to you about finding cassettes in the house?— so that you didn’t know what he really did to get you whatever he could get his hands on.

he didn’t want you to know that he actually smuggled in goods that he and his family needed, and while bribing, stealing, trading and selling for necessities, he made it a mission to find at least one cassette tape for you. he didn’t know you actually saw him red handed, and you still didn’t know where those boxes were coming from. he figured if you knew, you’d bring it up.

he made it his mission for two whole weeks, after your first week of staying with him, and finally got his hands on some actual music for you. joel hadn’t made efforts like this in a long time, and he knew that denying the fact that he at least cared for you would mean he was being delusional.

but he was always worried about you. you were his object of affection and he craved to find a way to get you out of his mind. he actually felt guilty for thinking about you in ways you’ve probably never been before, he felt guilty for wanting nothing but to make you feel good—however that was.

you doubted it strongly of course, shaking the feeling off as your own delusion and insanity, but you always hoped. hoped that maybe his generosity and southern hospitality was actually him caring about you in a different way, but he was a grown man. you tried to off yourself in front of him–you were insane to think he’d even look at you as anything but a liability, he hardly looked your way as it was.

at least you thought so.

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joel paid attention to every single thing he sees and hears. he doesn’t show it, he doesn’t acknowledge it—all he does is observe. some more than others.

you didn’t talk to him unless he talked to you, you kept your distance like he wanted, but somehow he knew everything that was going on. he didn’t have to talk to you to know you, and that’s what he was ashamed of. he watched you.

he was a creep, he felt like someone who was abnormal and making things weirder than they had to be. he was studying you and you didn’t even know. he picked up on what made you smile, which cassettes you listened to the most, which just so happened to be the ones he was ‘holding on to.’ and in the midst of observing you, he checked you out any time he got.

when you weren’t looking mostly, but even sometimes when you were talking to him about something not so important. he realized that if you did see that his eyes wandered over you, you were probably gaslighting yourself into thinking he wasn’t doing exactly what you thought he was doing. he loved your body. and he loved the way you dressed your body, the way the shirts you wore always clung to your heavy breasts, how even when you dressed in baggy clothes he still wanted to ruin you like that.

sick. you’re a sick old pervert, ya kno’ that? he knew. what joel didn’t know is why you made him feel this way, why you drove him to do the things that he does for you. why he acted feral every time you bent over, why he would storm out of the room when you got on your hands and knees to pick something you dropped up off the floor.

but he also studied you because he wanted to make sure you weren’t feeling how you felt the night you woke up in jackson, to make sure you weren’t feeling depressed or like you didn’t want to be here anymore. just talk to her fucker. he couldn’t. he would never admit it, but he’s eavesdropped near ellie’s garage to hear conversations between the two girls.

“ellie, i mean it, you cannot tell joel.” you hushed as you glanced towards the door, back to ellie.

she scoffed. “like i’d tell him, lay it on me.” you noticed the irritation in her eyes when you brought up joel, asking yourself if maybe there was something that wasn’t being said. you just put a pin in it.

“okay. one, i’m finally allowed a gun and i got my patrol route.” you cheered in a hush and joel almost pressed his ear into the door.

ellie rolled her eyes, grabbing the piece of paper. “no fucking fair. good looks, telling me bad news first. what’s two?” she joked.

“i met my patrol partner. his name’s uh, tyler? i think. yeah,” you looked down and nodded, assuring yourself. joel made it a note to tell ellie how thin her walls were, not right now though.

“tyler… tyler m?” joel thought of every man in this town named tyler with the letter M as his last name. instantly made a mental list of five tylers.

“i don’t know. but he asked me for a drink. tonight, he was gonna meet me here but i told him i’d meet him there. lesson number 5, always have a way to leave anywhere you are if you need to.” you said. you figured it’d be best to teach her as much as you could, telling her things she needed to hear to survive.

that’s how joel knew immediately what was happening when he heard your soft singing from your cracked door. you were getting ready for him. he actually hated it. he couldn’t remember the last time he felt that heat in his chest, biting the tongue—it wasn’t until his face turned down into the old familiar feeling, what he recognized as jealousy.

who was he to be jealous? for what? it was a saturday night, most people were off of work, and everyone was settling in the town’s circle to drink and watch movies. everyone but joel. he was now classified as a bitter old man, with a dark whiskey in his glass. maybe now a bitter, creepy old man as he knocks slightly on the cracked door and you invite him in.

you were fixing the laces on your shoes, simple black converse, and his eyes made his way up from there to your face. a deep v neck shirt that looked like a second skin from how tight it was, and faded black jeans with tiny holes from being lived in that hugged the fat of your thighs. he never noticed the gold dainty necklace that sat in the middle of your chest, but it sits right between the curves of your breasts. were they always that big? he felt like a kid, ogling and asking stupid questions.

“hellooo? joel?” you called to him as you rested your palms on the width of your thighs. he saw your lips, coated in a sheen and your hair split down the middle instead of being in a pony tail or bun. creepy old man. you’re being creepy joel!!! he shook his head.

“headin’ to the circle?” he asked. if he were close enough you could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“yeah i-,” you thought for a minute. joel didn’t trust the next person as much as you did. you saw his protectiveness through ellie, you felt maybe he’d feel the same for you. even if you were a bit delusional.

“-was gonna catch a movie with ellie, most likely be back around 12.” you said as you glanced at the clock, 9:32.

“‘s that right?” he said suggestively, like he knew something you didn’t. he did.

“yeah. that’s right,” you stood firm, even shot him a dirty look. “why don’t you enjoy the night, joel. you got the house to yourself, ain’t that what you’ve been mopin’ around for?” you stood up and grabbed your gun to put in your waistband behind your shirt, sticking a knife in your high top converse and one in your jean pocket.

maybe you got too defensive, but you were right in a way. he looked miserable around the house, storming in just to grab a beer and lock himself in the library or room.

“that’s right,” he was just smug. so smug you couldn’t stand it, you wanted to slap him.

“whatever joel,” you wanted to be right so bad. you wanted to prove to even yourself that you were right. but neither of you were buying into this act you played, and you knew it. he was making you nervous with his stare, the hard shell you had was practically ripped off of you when he grabbed your wrist before you left the room. he held you, shoulder to shoulder and looked at your face, down your neck and to your chest.

“if you need anythin’, you let me know darlin’.” darlin’? it was so foreign to you, so alien that you didn’t even have time to process it before your mouth moved to say a small alright and taking your arm from his grip. when you did, it was cold and you could feel the print of his hand around your wrist down the stairs.

it was so different, something that leaked off of his words when he spoke to you. and you wanted to hear more of it, explore that with him.

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before you could psych yourself out of going through the bar’s doors, you heard someone call for your name and turned your head to the left to see tyler, walking towards you with a big grin on his face. tyler was just two years older than you, someone you met while you were in combat and patrol classes, and didn’t acknowledge until he approached you, re-introducing himself as your partner for the first two weeks. you couldn’t be cold and shoo him away, you just smiled and introduced yourself, really looking at him.

he was not joel miller. tyler’s skin wasn’t as tan as joel’s but he wasn’t pale, and he was actually a bit lanky even under the thick coats he layered. you noticed that his chest wasn’t as broad and strong as joel’s, hell his arms were smaller than yours. he was a skinny tall thing, while you were a bit short and thick everywhere. and when he embraced you lightly at the entrance of the bar, you just felt cold. no warmth, no comfort, you felt like you’d break him.

“hey, i was hoping you’d actually come.” he breathed in as he pulled away, still, it wasn’t feeling right.

“why wouldn’t i?”

“cause you’re out of my league,” he said with a seductive smile and you wanted to believe him. wanted to enjoy the night as it comes and maybe have a few drinks, talk. but your mind was on a bitter man who sat in a house all by his lonesome.

the thing about ‘dates’ now is that small talk doesn’t happen anymore. what’s your mom like? she’s dead actually. really? mine too! it was pointless. if you ended up here, you knew that you were alone.

it wasn’t long before you and tyler were sitting on two stools, side by side. your knees were in between his as the two of you talked, flirted, gave simple touches. you were having fun. doing what would seem normal at a bar, just enjoying the company of someone who actually liked you.

“how come you’ve never hung out with anyone else? i never see you with anyone.” he said, his fingers tapping on your knee.

“mmm, i’m just not for everyone.” you flirted, covering his fingers with yours. you knew this wasn’t going anywhere, but you’d like to live in it just a little longer. the touch of a man, someone who desired you even if it wasn’t how you wanted. something you started to crave from joel.

“maybe you’re just for me then?” he suggested, and you decided to just play into it. it was kind of hard not to when you were thinking of joel, you needed to act out on it.

“i doubt that, honey,” you said, tugging at the collar of his shirt. he smelled like tequila and grass, something not that appealing but you ignore it. you wanted something out of him tonight, because for some reason the words joel spoke to you kept ringing in your ears. if you need anything, you let me know darlin’. the words rumbled through your body and straight to your core, because if there’s anything you need he could definitely be of help.

you didn’t know how long you stayed at this bar, teasing and touching each other until you felt the ache in your core, aching for a touch that you’ve had once before. but you didn’t give a shit about purity or virginity, you wanted the ache gone and you knew tyler was the best bet.

“tyler,” you whispered in his ear as the bar started to empty.

“yes, beautiful?” he answered and slid his hand up your thigh.

“show me how good you are with your fingers, yeah?”

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he followed you back to joel’s, hand in hand as you turned the key to the house and softly opened the door to prevent the creaking. granted, you didn’t think this through, like everything else. maybe you should’ve gone to his. you cringed a bit, walking inside.

it was dark inside, nothing but the sizzle of a freshly put out fire. you put your fingers to your lips to shush him, taking him slowly upstairs and to your room. you couldn’t help but find yourself glancing at joel’s door, which is cracked open.

you finally made it to your room with the lanky man groping your body and trying to slither you out of your jeans, letting him.

“only want your fingers, okay? if not you can leave.” you established as you stood in your panties and tight shirt.

“fuck, yeah that’s okay,” tyler himself was craving a woman’s touch, he didn’t even care if he got off. he just wanted to see you, a woman’s body, to feel you.

“can i touch you? like anywhere?” he asked as he sat on the edge of your bed, his cock already hardened against his pants. it didn’t sound right coming from him. you wondered what it’d sound like with the texas twang you craved to hear from a certain man.

it still made your core twinge a bit, remembering the last time you were this vulnerable. you couldn’t lie, even if it wasn’t what you wanted, you fell in to the odd touch of the man desperately trying to touch you.

“anywhere. keep your dick in your pants, i’ll touch as i go if you want me to.” you moved over to him and crawled into your bed, and he slipped in next to you as he propped himself on his elbow to look at you.

“you’re so pretty, really.” he said, genuinely and you smiled. your stomach even fluttered a bit. it’s been a long time hearing that, hearing desire.

“touch me, please.”

tyler took his time, a little more than you’d liked but he was busy distracted with the way your tits pushed up to your chin, like you were suffocating. touching and teasing, his touch felt good but it still didn’t feel right, it didn’t feel heartstopping. maybe you’re expecting too much.

but he didn’t talk to you when he dipped his hand in your panties, you just heard his whimpers and panting as he rutted his hard on into the side of your fat thigh, barely focused on you. you weren’t feeling it anymore, your wetness wasn’t even directed towards him really. everything you did with him was what you wanted to do with joel. you weren’t interested anymore and it started to feel wrong, it never felt good because tyler wasn’t worried about you. just his nut, and you didn’t like that. you didn’t like to feel used.

“okay, wait, wait—i said wait!” you said and grabbed his wrist, pulling it from your panties and moving off of the bed.

“wait, fuck i’m sorry, i was just so, fuck i’m so sorry.” he said a bit loudly, and you swore you heard a creak in the hallway as you moved to the door.

“it’s okay, i just, i’m not–i’m tired. i think you should go.” you said, hugging your arm as he adjusted himself in his pants and got up.

“i’m sorry, i,-” he tried again and you waved him off.

“it’s done and forgotten, you didn’t do anything you were just really into it. i wasn’t.” you were careful with your words, not as tough as you would be because you’re vulnerable. but he wouldn’t get far if he hurt you, you knew that.

“i’m sorry, goodnight. can we kind of like, forget this?” he asked rubbing the back of his neck and you softly laughed.

“forget what?” you smiled and he returned it, giving a small kiss on the cheek before he left. he was a nice man, a good kid, and he meant no harm. he didn’t need a ruthless beating or yelling, just needed to tell him it wasn’t meant to be. you couldn’t shake the feeling of how wrong it was, how wrong it felt being tyler touching you.

you knew who you wanted to touch you. as sweet and kind and charming tyler was, he wasn’t what you wanted. the man you wanted was across the hall from you, on the other side of the stairs. sleeping, maybe.

you knew ellie was at a friends house doing only god knows what, so with the hope in mind that joel was asleep in his room, you trotted downstairs braless, and bottomless. you were still in the same tight shirt you left in, but now just in the pink panties that were apart of the gifts maria got you. just new/traded clothing you needed. the shirt hugged you and cut off at the dip of your curve, the fat of your tummy slightly protruding between the shirt and your panties.

you didn’t look towards the fireplace where the sofas were, instead you grab a small cup and let faucet water pour into it, taking a drink.

“work up a sweat?” a deep southern voice said behind you, from a distance. you jumped at the sudden break of silence and turned quickly to the sofas.

“joel? what the fuck,” you breathed and stepped out to walk to the sofas. somehow, you completely disregarded the fact that all you had on was a shirt and panties, standing in joel miller’s living room.

“what made you think it was a bright idea to invite a bastard in my home like that? not only that,” he said. you finally saw the light from outside shining on his face as he stood up, something glimmering in his hand. a gun. “but letting him touch all over you? that prick?”

you had a lot to say, a lot to yell out. but the only thing to say was a snarky comment. “you know he called you the same thing.”

which, he did. but you were too drunk on the flirting and drinks to care or to know why, even though you already knew. joel wasn’t nice to anyone but ellie. tommy and maria even think he’s an asshole, but that’s tommy’s brother and maria’s brother in law. he’s family. but there were things that you didn’t know about joel miller. things he didn’t want you to know either.

“why do you even care? who’s touching me, i mean.” you scoff, feeling less embarrassed about your state of clothing. but being a lot more aware as he steps closer and closer to your curvy figure, putting his gun in the waistband of his sweatpants.

he was intimidating like this. towering over you with his fists clenched, searching your face for something. you felt your heartbeat pick up as his eyes raked over you and fell on your lips. he was drunk off of you, the sight of your fat cunt only being clothed by a single piece of fabric drove him to dig his nails in his palms. the nakedness of your thighs, and the midriff showing—it was going to kill him.

“if you’re gonna fuck these town folk, make sure it ain’t in my house.” he spit, and you just rolled your eyes. you felt like you were in trouble for sneaking out, like a teenager.

“i didn’t fuck anyone. we didn’t do anything. he wanted to, i didn’t.” you defended, feeling small now but still holding yourself tall.

joel just looked at you, not wondering if you were lying or not. he knew you weren’t, he heard it himself the minute he heard something bang against your wall. it was just you shuffling to get up, and he heard you consoling him. you weren’t satisfied.

“why’d you lie to me? bout’ seein’ him tonight?” he asked, your head tilted up to his as he steps one step closer. your chest is almost touch his, and your breathing was getting heavier.

“figured you wouldn’t trust him,” you said, sounding like you wanted to say something else but keeping it to yourself.

he was watching you like you were his prey. like you were something he wanted to take and devour for himself, like you were something for his eyes only.

“smart girl,”

“he touch you wrong?” he couldn’t help but ask, the curiosity killing him slowly as time passes with you standing in front of him with your tight pink panties on. he looked down between the two of you and saw the hardened pebbles that were your nipples showing up through your black tight shirt, down to your tummy that was pressed against his. he liked the softness of your belly, he was practically dying to grip it himself. he wanted to grip every part of you, to palm your pussy and feel how warm you were in his grip. he even found himself hating his own mind as thought of what your pussy would look like sucking him in.

“i, he,” you were stuttering, embarrassing yourself as his hand trailed up your arm, thinking of all the ways he could watch you take his cock for him.

you watched him watch you. how his eyes went dark again, how there was a slight touch of possessiveness in his voice. you didn’t assume though.

“can’t find the words, hm? he wasn’t makin’ you feel good?” he asked softly, watching as you closed your eyes and breathed through your mouth, opening again to see a small grin playing on his lips, his head tilted to the side. his fingers barely left your wrist, and made their way to your fleshy hip, tapping against the bare skin. he was enjoying this. making you squirm. making you nervous.

“fuck off, joel,” you meant it to come out a lot stronger than it did, even you thought you sounded needy. “s’ none of your damn business,” you spit, stronger this time.

and before you could even wallow in your retorts, a smile tugged very faintly at his lips. you weren’t so convincing when you were practically trying to pull him to your body with your fists buried in his sweater. he appreciated the effort though, he's never met someone with as much bite in their bark as you.

he just liked to watch you writhe for him. you wanted to whine with how eager you were for him, how mean he was being to you for no reason. you needed him.

“it’s like you’re not even tryin’, what’s the matter? do i make you nervous sweetheart?” he gleamed in his power over you, the way your eyes searched for him and your mouth parted, just for him. he wanted to ruin you in every way. ruin every man for you, show you how to truly be taken care of.

"go fuck yourself," you retorted and he actually laughed. and he laughed at you. a sudden heat rushed to your cheeks, embarrassment filling you.

“i didn’t tell you but,” he paused as he leaned into your ear, grazing his cheek against yours and smiling to himself, “you looked real pretty today, ya know that? you look even prettier like this, all flustered for me.”

you had to be dreaming. had to have gone to sleep after tyler left, and this was your wet dream making up for it. there was no way you were this exposed to joel and he was practically pressed up against your body as he told you how pretty you looked. you couldn’t speak, your tongue was tied and joel smiled to himself as he realized he got you to shut up.

“would ya let me touch you, sweet girl? maybe you'd be nicer if someone knew how to touch you,” he asked, his fingers playing on your hip.

you still couldn’t answer. it felt like a trap, like if you let yourself give in to his words, every guard you put up was pointless. you were frozen, and suddenly felt insanely vulnerable but his voice was so inviting, so impossible to not fall into.

“touch me where?” you asked, treading lightly. you wanted to hear it, you wanted him to tell you he wanted you as bad as you wanted him. you wanted to prove to yourself that you hadn't lost your mind yet. but you also wanted to stretch whatever this was as long as possible before you find yourself on your knees for him without even asking.

joel felt like he was out of his body. like he was watching you squirm and move under his presence from above. he was so distracted by how hard your nipples were rubbing against him that he didn’t even notice your fists balled into his shirt, trying to take him in closer. maybe it was the alcohol he drank to ignore the jealousy he felt, or maybe it was the fact that tommy came to tell joel about the boy you were seeing. how the two of you were practically on top of each other before he left, how he was touching you in public–he was angry.

nothing was done, nothing more than joel grabbing your almost bare hip and you tugging on his shirt, but it still felt like something that was crossing a line. a line you wanted to cross.

until he got the courage to grab the hand that was buried in his sweater, taking it in his own and touching you with your hand. he was answering your question. his hand ghosted on top of yours as his eyes watched your eyes train on the sight between the two of the bodies, enjoying how soft and pink you look. you were hot and bothered, and he could get used to seeing you like this.

“first place i’d touch you, baby,” he breathes, his lips practically against your cheek now. he was breathing you in, drinking you in, “is right here,”

his hand guided you to cup your mound, angry that it wasn’t his hand touching you. your breath was shaky while you watched him, your eyes flickering from his moving hand to his eyes, and every time he made sure your eyes latched onto his. he wanted you to know how much he was enjoying teasing you like this, he wanted you to remember the way he looked at you while you panted against him.

“but like this, lemme show you ‘xactly how i’d touch you sweetheart,” he was lost, drunken only on you, ignoring the world around him. “don’t think that boy would be enough for a woman like you, ain’t that right?"

he took his own hand as you were still pressed against his front, his lips now teasing the skin of the crook of your neck and starting to pull your panties away from your skin to dip his hand inside. your breathing was uneven and your soft whimpers were getting louder the more he trailed down into your underwear, and he was loving them.

the second he felt the scruff of your unshaved mound, he heard you release a shaky, sexy breath, and he grew harder against your bare abdomen. even feeling the heat of your skin on his clothed cock made him want to get on his knees and worship you.

"needy little fuckin' thing, that desperate for me huh? you gonna let me feel this pretty pussy how i want?"

he was so fucking filthy. so filthy for someone who hasn't even seen you naked, so filthy for someone who didn't even talk to you before this. it was agonizing, you were melting into his harsh words and wanted to listen to him make you feel small like this all night.

"joel, i swear," you warned as his breath hit your lips with his eyes on yours.

you had a bush, he thought to himself. he really didn’t think that would turn him on of course, but now he pictured you standing in front of him, bottomless. how your belly would look with your curves, the way your breasts would rest at their natural position, your thighs fat and wide all for him, and the pretty fat mound waiting for him to feel and taste. worst time to think all of that of course, because it sent a flood of blood and excitement to his groin, giving him another thing to be nervous about. but god did he want to see it, see all of you laid in his bed, and tugging on the thatch of hair on your mound. he was fucked.

and god forbid you figured out that he’s been picturing you bent and folded in every way just so he could reach to the back of your cervix, if you figured out that his anger towards you is pent up sexual frustration because every time you’re in the shower, he’s thinking of the way you looked lathered in soap, waiting for him to join you. he was a sick man to think of you like this, but all of his desires and fantasies were threatening to barge in, to unleash all of his wants and needs to you.

he was fighting himself to be a respectable man, a man who doesn’t think of women who were young enough to be his own kid in ways that were sinful. he shouldn’t be wanting to fill your throat with his cock when you smart mouth him. he was losing whoever he thought was himself, and letting heart and cock do his thinking.

you couldn't think right, nothing was processing as you felt the heat of his hand on your cunt. you felt another wave of pleasure hit you and suddenly, you could feel your wetness pooling for him in your panties. you had a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that joel actually wanted you too, even if he wanted to put you in your place for once and shut you up.

you didn't care how he wanted you. you were a bitch, but you were desperate for him.

"mmm, you're real scary, baby, threats ain't gettin' you anywhere. you have t' beg me for my fingers," he teased, rubbing the hair on your mound.

"oh fuck off, i'm not begging you for shit," you're putting up a fight with yourself, and you were winning. at leadt you thought so. even if you were letting him touch you this way, you weren't goping to beg him or give him the pleasure of watching you submit to him.

"yeah? maybe i'll jus' make ya," he grinned, his sinister smile forming while he rested his forehead on yours, his hand inside your panties as the two of you watched him tease your lips.

the second joel’s finger moves from your hairy mound to the fat lips of your cunt to spread and feel just how much you ached for him, to tease your hole so you'd be sent into a fit of desperation, the two of you heard the doorknob jiggle and a loud laugh from the outside, meaning it was ellie. joel pulled his hand and body away quickly and nodded upstairs with a hard look, giving you the hint to go before ellie saw you in your panties.

your face expressed everything to him, you needed him. and you didn’t want to let go. he watched as you walked up the stairs, your ass practically eating up the fabric of your panties. it left nothing to the imagination and he groaned, something you swore you heard, before he fixed himself in his pants.

ellie walked in, and you stayed at the top of the stairs out of sight to hear the lecturing.

“are you outta your damn mind, ellie? it’s three in the mornin’,” his paternal instincts were coming out, and you smiled.

“i was down the street. relax, i just didn’t want to stay there.” ellie defended as she slipped her shoes off.

“did somethin’ happen? are you hurt?” he asked quickly, examining ellie to see if he saw blood or cuts anywhere.

“jeez, no joel lay off. why are you up anyways isn’t it like six hours past your bedtime?” she scoffed, annoyed at the father figure lecturing her right now. what was he gonna tell her?

“was waitin for your friend to come home, so i can lock up before bed,” he lied. he was lying and you knew it. you came home an hour ago, and he was still up.

“you’re in love aren’t ya? old man,” ellie teased. her demeanor was a little more playful than she’d been this last month and he shook his head annoyed, but to you it was silent. your lips pinched into a thin line as you heard joel grunt.

“go to be ellie. now.” he ordered and she rolled her eyes, saying her good nights and going to the garage to sleep in her space.

a part of you wanted joel to come upstairs, into your room and to do everything he wanted to do. you didn’t know exactly what he wanted to do, but with the touching and flirting he was doing, it seemed like he wanted you. maybe he was drunk, you could smell it on his breath! he seemed pretty sober talking to ellie. you cursed yourself as you moved quietly to your room, leaving the door cracked open just in case.

but nothing. you heard him trudge up the stairs, and walk directly the opposite direction into his own room. you were frustrated at this point. sexually frustrated if you must say, and the ache in your core was not leaving any time soon.

you felt embarrassed, and you felt like joel was toying with you. all of the sudden this comes up and he's trying to finger fuck you in the living room when you genuinely thought he didn't even acknowledge your mere existence. it was so confusing for you, but the only thing you knew for sure now after a few weeks of deciding is that you craved joel miller.

it was a weird feeling. only because growing up in an apocalyptic world as a teenager and a young adult meant your chances of love and relationships were slim to none, at least for you. but you met joel in times where you had given up already.

as you lied in bed, wondering if joel was asleep or thinking about you too, you felt silly. you were setting yourself up for disaster by having hope that whatever this was with joel was more than that, and not just that. you worried you were getting ahead of yourself, maybe you were taking joel's advances too seriously. what if he just wants an easy fuck? nothing serious, something for pleasure in this dark world where everyone seeks a way to alleviate their pain

you felt like maybe you were geting into your head like you always do. maybe this could be good. maybe this could be your chance to let go, be vulnreable again, let someone make you feel like a teenager again. you had your fair share of crushes when you were in the QZ, you remembered that innocent feeling of liking someone, the shyness that came with it, how nervous you got around them. and with joel, you felt that times one hundred.

the flutters in your stomach, the goosebumps on your skin when he stands too close to you. he made you feel good even without trying.

but nothing good comes from joel miller.

167 notes · View notes

lesgetittkookie · 2 years

Text

redamancy - jjk (part II)

⤖ genre: fluff, future smut, angst, gardener!jeongguk x rich!reader, okay but jeongguk isn't really a gardener like that but you'll see, kinda slow burn but not really

⤖ pairing: jeongguk x female reader

⤖ rating: 18+

⤖word count: approx. 12.2 k words

⤖ warnings: explicit language

summary: jeongguk is just a normal dude with a simple routine. wake up, go to the gym, work his job as a waiter at this posh upscale restaurant in the heart of gangnam before coming home to a night full of video games and ramen (it's delicious and cheap). that routine gets disrupted when he accidentally taps the back of an expensive sports car of one of the richest men in south korea. considering he's broke, he couldn't afford to pay for the damages so the man makes a deal with him by offering him to work at his house as one of the gardeners. jeongguk takes it but wasn't prepared to meet this beautiful young woman who's constantly lounging by the pool, you, the rich man's daughter.

author's note: hiiii here we are with part 2!! i just want to say that when i originally started this story, i did not intend for them to immediately jump into things. after outlining this story, i didn't realize it would be kind of slow burn. but honestly tho, it's really not that much of a slow burn. i hope you guys enjoy part 2. i have to be honest and say i had trouble writing it at first because i just wasn't satisfied with how it was turning out. i also didn't expect it to be this long but here we are lol. on a side note, i've noticed people saying that they'd like to be added to the taglist which i've actually never made before. but if you want to be added to the taglist, please send me an ask. have a lovely day!

Your legs felt like they were ready to give out at any moment. With the lack of food in your system and the amount of walking you’ve done, you’re just about ready to collapse to the ground. Meanwhile your mother continues ahead of you, happy to step into the next shop to search for more clothes.

It was a pain shopping with your mother. She must take her sweet time, having the store employees bring her clothes so she can scrutinize them one by one until there’s something deemed to her liking or approval.

You just came out of the Hermes store after what seems like an hour later, your mother having bought four new purses because according to her, “My other Hermes bags are in poor condition.” Though you know it was an excuse to buy four other colors so she can match them with her outfits. If there’s one thing your mother isn’t, that is an outfit repeater. You would never catch her wearing the same outfit in public more than once.

You love your mother, you really do. It makes you happy to spend time with her, especially since you were away from her for so long. However, her way of spending time with you is by going shopping whereas all you want to do is sit in and watch a movie with her. You don’t think this woman has ever actually sat down to watch a movie since you were a kid.

It’s been a few days since you’ve been home. There hasn’t been much going on other than you watching Netflix in the theater room you guys have in the house and munching on whatever the home chefs have cooked.

Your mother walked in on you eating a pint of the brown sugar brittle ice cream while binging the latest Korean drama people have been raving about on social media. With a disapproving look, she had told you she wants to go shopping because ‘it’s been a while since we’ve had a mother-daughter day, my love.’

Hence, here you are trudging behind your mother who is dressed to the nines with not a single hair out of place. Meanwhile you’re clad in a black turtleneck dress topped with an oversized dark grey blazer that reaches your mid-thigh. A large buckle is cinched around your waist, and you’ve got on a pair of black platform boots that go slightly above your ankles. In your hand you hold a black leather quilted Chanel bag.

It's a requirement from your mother to be dressed up whenever the two of you go out because, ‘Y/N, it would be embarrassing if a fashion mogul’s daughter were to wear such basic clothing.’ Not that you have any complaints, you enjoy dressing up. You have the money and privilege to buy nice clothing you might as well take advantage of it.

More than yourself, you feel bad for your mother’s assistant who is walking beside her with at least ten bags in her hands from all the designer shops you’ve visited. You insisted on helping her carry some of them, but she just wouldn’t budge. Probably too afraid to hand you a bag in front of your mother.

You need some form of food or beverage in your system before you pass out. You call for your mother before she enters the MAC makeup store, causing her to stop in her tracks and look at you expectantly with a raised eyebrow.

“Mother, you can look through this store while I get a drink from that café we just passed,” you tell her, referring your hand to the coffee shop two stores behind.

She raises her eyebrows, gaze switching between the café and you before speaking, “Sweetheart, we have reservations at Pierre Gagnaire à Séoul at seven.” She taps her manicured nail on top of her Rolex watch to point out the time being six-thirty.

You purse your lips, eyes shutting so you don’t end up rolling them at her, “It’s just a drink, mother.”

“Drink that is probably made with cheap ingredients. I’m sure the French restaurant has a—” She starts but you interrupt her before she can finish.

“Mother, I’m just really thirsty right now and would like a drink,” Voice controlled in attempt to not sound too irritated with her, you give her a tight-lipped smile.

She lets out a defeated sigh, looking at her assistant who just shrugs in response. “Fine but be quick.” And with that, her assistant opens the door of the shop, bags rustling on her elbow and your mother disappears inside.

Shoulders relaxing and a breath of relief escaping your lips, you head inside of the café. The sweet smell of pastries and coffee immediately fill your nostrils, making you smile in delight. The atmosphere is nice and cozy, korean ballads playing on the speakers.

“Okay so what other suggestions do you have?” Jimin asks Taehyung incredulously, straw touching his pursed lips.

“How about sky diving?” Taehyung responds, slurping his strawberry crème Frappuccino loudly. It’s quiet for a moment, causing him to look up between his friends, “What?” He wonders in genuine confusion.

Jeongguk just shakes his head tiredly, drinking his own mocha frappe and enjoying the frozen taste of the chocolatey beverage swirled with a hint of bitterness. He’s more of a Frappuccino and juice kind of guy over lattes and americanos. He doesn’t understand how his friends drink that nasty stuff.

The three of them are currently sitting in a booth of a coffee shop they frequent at since it’s close to the record store their friend, Yoongi, owns. Well, also because their Jin hyung is the manager here and he’s currently working at the front. They can hear his windshield wiper laugh at something one of the old men playing chess by the window said.

Jeongguk met up with the other two after finishing his shift at the restaurant he works at. Luckily, he didn’t have to go to the Kim’s estate today for his gardening job. Taehyung was coming from his job where he works at a pottery studio whereas Jimin just finished teaching a dance class. The three of them were talking about things they can do for Jeongguk’s birthday which happens to be in a few weeks.

Jeongguk insisted it was too early to even plan anything, but Jimin insisted that they should at least have some form of idea for what they can do. Being the angel that Jimin is, he would never let any of their friends not celebrate their birthday. He was the one who started the whole celebration tradition every time someone in their friend group’s birthday came around.

“Tae,” Jimin holds is head in his hand, “You do realize Jin hyung and Hobi hyung would never do that.”

“Sure they would,” Taehyung quips enthusiastically, mouth wrapping around the straw again to slurp his drink.

“No,” Jeongguk shakes head, “They won’t. They would piss themselves before we’d even get on the plane.” He looks at Jimin, “Why do we even ask him for suggestions? You know he always has spontaneous ideas.”

With an offended look, hand on his chest, Taehyung says, “My ideas are always fun. It’s not my fault you guys are pussies.”

“We can’t even afford to go sky driving, you fool.” Jimin tells him and Taehyung pauses in place, mouth open in thought for a few seconds.

“Wait, you’re right. We’re too poor for that.” Taehyung deflates, leaning his back against the cushioned booth.

“Look, we still have time, hyung. And you know me,” Jeongguk leans back against the cushion as well, twirling his straw in his drink, “My birthday isn’t a big deal. We can just hang out at Jin hyung’s apartment or something.” He suggests.

“Yah! Why do you guys always wanna celebrate at my apartment?” The handsome man in question interrupts, walking up next to their table. There was a black apron wrapped around his waist, indicating that he was still on his shift.

“Because your apartment is the biggest out of everyone’s,” Jeongguk tells him matter-of-factly, scooting over with an irritated sigh when Jin shoves him aside so he can sit down.

“So what? You guys always make a ruckus every time you come over,” Jin whines, “Remember last time when you were at my house. I had complaints from the floors above and below and my neighbors next door.”

“It’s not our fault Jimin hyung was cheating in monopoly,” Taehyung remarks and Jimin gasps out of offense.

“For the millionth, I was not cheating!” He defends but the three of them still don’t believe it. There was no way he was able to win all those properties.

“Yeah yeah,” Jin waves off, “Whatever you say.” Jimin just pouts in return, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back against the booth.

“You guys are dickheads, full offense,” Jimin sneers at all of them. “You have no faith that I can win at a game just because I—” He’s cut off by a loud gasp coming from Taehyung, startling all of them.

“What is it?” Jeongguk asks curiously, taking in his friend’s agape jaw as he stares passed them towards something at the front.

“Did Mr. Lee flip the table again after losing in chess?” Jin groans, about to stand up so he can break up the fight between the two old men again.

Those chess games are always intense. Last time Jeongguk was at the coffee shop, he saw Mr. Lee raise his cane at the other man out of anger but before he can smack him, Jin had to step in between only to get whacked in the head. Jeongguk could’ve sworn that he was going to die of laughter that day.

“No dude…” Taehyung leans his cheek on his palm and sighs dreamily, “There’s this really pretty girl who just ordered at the cash register and she’s holding one of those leather quilted Chanel bags.” They all shake their heads at him because he’s so damn dramatic.

“No way,” Jin grunts, “Every customer I served today was old and smelled like—”

“Holy shit, she’s got the cutest face,” Taehyung pants and everyone at the table grows curious. Jimin scoots all the way down until he’s sticking his head out the booth like Taehyung to see what he’s talking about.

“Oh, he’s not kidding,” Jimin stares along with the boy.

This peaks Jeongguk and Jin’s interest, causing them to turn their heads and look as well. Jeongguk follows their line of vision, eyes widening in recognition because it’s you. You’re standing there in front of the pick-up counter, dressed in stylish clothes that are most likely very expensive. Your eyes wander around the coffee shop, a small smile playing on your lips as you wait for your order

Jin whistles, mouth open as well, “She looks expensive.” He comments.

“She is,” Jeongguk responds, causing the three of the guys to look at him questioningly, “That’s Mr. Kim’s daughter.”

“That’s her?” Jimin gawks.

“You weren’t kidding about how hot she is,” Jin adds.

Jeongguk doesn’t look away, watching how you hold the door open for an elder lady whose hands were full, offering to help her out. The lady shakes her head with a smile on her face and you lightly bow your head in return, giving her a sweet smile.

He’s been seeing you by the pool from time to time. It’s been a few days since he first met you. You guys didn’t interact much. Whenever you were around one another, you would greet each other with a smile or wave but nothing more. You’d say hi to Jeongguk whenever you were sitting by the pool and he’d wave back, trying not to stare at you for too long because he didn’t want to look like a creep. He just couldn’t himself sometimes and peek some glances at you reading a book, clothed in a new swimsuit. Some of them would show a little more cleavage than normal and he’d try not to look.

Sometimes he would see Dohyun attempt to conversate with you, stuttering out of nervousness but you were never rude about it, just responding back politely to the boy.

You genuinely seemed like a nice person much to Jeongguk’s surprise. He would’ve thought the daughter of a rich family like yours would be stuck up and snobby. But you weren’t. You seemed to be independent, doing things yourself without the help of the butlers or maids in the house.

“Dude…” Taehyung whispers, “I can’t believe you get to see her whenever you’re working. You must be jerking off somewhere in private.”

Jeongguk looks at him with furrowed brows and a scowl on his face, “Listen, there’s a time and place for jerking off and it wouldn’t be at their house.”

“Ahhh so you admit you do that when you leave from there?” Jin smirks but Jeongguk just glares in return.

“I can’t stand you guys sometimes,” He mumbles, peaking at you one more time before looking down at the table again.

He would’ve loved to talk to you more but for some reason, he’s been hesitant. He doesn’t know if it’s because you’re basically the daughter of his boss and he’d get in trouble for talking with you, let alone being near you.. Or he’s just intimidated by you for some reason even though you look like you wouldn’t even harm a fly.

“What was her name again?” Jimin asks.

“Y/N…” Jeongguk mumbles.

“Don’t worry dude, I’ll help you out,” Taehyung reassures and Jeongguk just looks at him confused before his eyes widen because— “Hey Y/N! Over here!”

Jeongguk wants to die. He wants the ground to open a hole and swallow him. He wants to disappear for good. Maybe move to Amsterdam. But before running away, he’s going to murder Kim Taehyung and toss his body into the Han River.

“Tae!” Jeongguk hisses, lips pursed and nostrils flaring out of annoyance.

“Oh shit, she’s coming over here,” Taehyung whispers, smiling excitedly and waving at the approaching person.

Stupid Taehyung and his stupid social butterfly personality.

Jeongguk covers his face with his hand, feeling his ears burning up because you’re going to see that it’s him and know that he talked about you to his friend because how else would Taehyung know your name.

“Hi…do I know you? Oh—Jeongguk?” You sounded wary at first, most likely because you didn’t know who Taehyung was and why he knew your name, but your voice changed to realization when you recognize him sitting at the table as well.

Jeongguk lifts his hands from his face to look at you, “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey…” You greet back, flashing him a small smile. “I was wondering how you,” You refer to Taehyung, “knew my name.”

“Ah yes, Jeongguk told us you live at the house he’s been working at,” Taehyung clarifies, and you look like you’re holding back a smile. Jeongguk attempts to avoid your curious glance, staring down at the table. “I’m Kim Taehyung, Jeongguk’s best friend.”

Ex-best friend now, Jeongguk thinks.

You shake the hand Taehyung is holding out, “I’m Y/N but it looks like you already know that.” You chuckle.

Death, where are you? When are you coming?

“I’m Jimin,” The boy sitting next to Taehyung introduces himself, flashing his signature eye smile where his eyes turn into crescent which automatically causes you to smile back in return.

The Park Jimin effect. You already seem charmed by it.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin,” you nod your head towards him.

“And allow me to introduce myself, I am Seokjin, but you can call me Jin,” The older man speaks, holding out his hand for you to shake as well. “I am the man who raised,” Pointing his thumb towards Jeongguk behind him, “This kid right here.”

Jeongguk scoffs, “You didn’t raise me.”

“As you can see, when they grow older, they become ungrateful pieces of shits,” Jin speaks through a smile, making you cover your mouth and laugh.

“I see,” Your eyes meet Jeongguk’s once again before they look away. .

“So, what brings you down here, Y/N?” Taehyung asks, chin resting on his hand to show you that he has your full attention.

“Oh nothing,” You shake your head and let out a tired sigh, “Just been shopping with my mother for hours. I got thirsty and decided to get a drink.”

Jeongguk can see how nervous you are with the way your hand is tightly clenching the chain of your purse. The tip of your ears are a little red and you don’t hold eye contact with any of them for too long.

You must not talk to people often.

“Nice, nice,” Taehyung nods and then glances down at something in your hand, making you curious and check what he’s looking at.

Jeongguk wants to smack his palm against his face. There’s no way he’s about to ask if—

“Is that real Chanel?”

Of course, he would ask.

There’s no way Taehyung wouldn’t ask when he’s a fan of fashion and constantly splurges on designer wear when he can.

“Oh, um I think it is,” You hold up the black purse, “I’ve had it for some time I guess it looks a little worn out.”

“No way, I just…it’s so shiny,” Taehyung marvels, making you chuckle. “Do you mind if I look at it?”

Yep, it’s done. They’re done. Jeongguk can’t do this anymore.

Jimin smacks Taehyung’s shoulder, causing the other boy to flinch while Jeongguk groans, face in his hands again. Jin just laughs out loud, smacking the table.

“Yah! You don’t just ask someone that,” Jin muses and Taehyung just pouts, looking like a kicked puppy.

“It’s okay,” You laugh, “I don’t mind.” You hand the purse over as if you’ve known Taehyung all his life and there’s no big deal with just simply handing him a two-thousand-dollar purse.

You just met the guy, Jeongguk thinks.

“Iced vanilla latte for Y/N!” One of the café workers call, forcing you to look away.

“Oh, I’ll be right back,” You inform, pulling away from the table to get your drink.

As soon as you leave to get the drink, Jeongguk crumbles his receipt and tosses it at Taehyung’s face, hitting his forehead. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Taehyung ignores Jeongguk, “This is such a nice purse, guys feel it.” He holds out the purse in the center of the table and Jimin and Jin poke it curiously.

“Feels luxurious,” Jin comments and Jimin nods in agreement.

“You guys are killing me,” Jeongguk groans, watching you walk back to the table after saying thank you to the worker.

“Y/N, this is such a nice purse,” Taehyung tells you, handing you your purse bag so you can shrug the chain onto your shoulder again.

“Oh, thank you,” You wrap your lips around the iced latte to take a sip. “This is a good latte.”

“It probably would’ve been even better if I made it,” Jin jokes, though Jeongguk knows he’s being serious. You giggle, straw between your lips.

You have such a cute laugh, he thinks. Jeongguk wouldn’t mind hearing it more. In fact, he’s a little jealous that his friends are making you laugh when he’s barely talked to you. Before anyone can say anything else, the sound of a cell phone ringing causes you guys to halt.

“Oop, sorry about that,” You mutter, setting your drink down onto the table so you can open your purse and dig through it for your phone. He notices how you roll your eyes, clicking the volume button to turn off the ringing. “It’s my mother. She’s probably wondering where I am right now.”

Jeongguk deflates, a little bummed that you must leave. But at the same time, he feels relief because he doesn’t think he can handle any more embarrassing comments from his friends.

“Awh that’s okay. It was nice meeting you!” Taehyung beams.

Your lips pull into a bright smile, “You as well. It was lovely to meet all of you.”

Your eyes meet with Jeongguk’s a little longer than the rest of everyone else when you say goodbye to them, causing his lips to pull into a small smirk. There’s a certain gleam in your eye and he notices that you’re trying not to smile too widely.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jeongguk,” You mutter shyly, and he nods, watching you wave at the other boys one last time before leaving the coffee shop.

“He’s staring,” Jimin laughs, seeing how Jeongguk’s eyes watch you disappear down the sidewalk.

He feels something wet in his ear, causing him to flinch. He looks at Jin in disgust when he realizes the man put his finger in his mouth before poking it into his ear. The older man is just laughing that hideous laugh of his.

“Dude what the fuck,” Jeongguk whacks his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re older than us? or are you 10?”

“Yah! We were calling your name, but you were too busy watching her leave,” Jin snickers.

“I was just…” Think of an excuse, Jeongguk. “I was trying to make sure she left safely.” His eyes might’ve stared a little too long at your bare legs, but he won’t admit that.

“No but for real dude, you weren’t kidding. She’s cute,” Taehyung says and the other two boys nod.

“You calling her over here, did not fucking help,” Jeongguk glowers and Taehyung just waves it off.

“Please,” Taehyung finishes the rest of his drink, “You’re gonna thank me later because at least she knows you talk about her.”

Jeongguk just stares at him, lips parted, and eyebrows furrowed. “She’s gonna think I’m weird.”

“You’ve always been weird. Somehow chicks still dig that,” Jin adds, standing up from the table to go back to the kitchen.

“She was definitely looking at you a lot, Guk-ah.” Jimin remarks and Jeongguk just shrugs in response.

“Taehyung, you’re dead to me,” Jeongguk scoots out of the booth, ready to go home.

“Thank you so much, Taehyung.” Taehyung changes the tone of his voice to try and imitate Jeongguk’s. “Thank you for giving Y/N the push to talk to me.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Jeongguk grumbles, tossing his cup in the trash. “I’ll see you losers later.”

The following day at the Kim estate, Jeongguk is wiping the sweat off his forehead after he finishes throwing some mulch on top of the soil. He heaves out a deep breath, squinting to avoid the sunlight that’s directly beaming down on him. He pulls off the thick gloves he’s wearing and tosses them onto the ground. His palms are sweaty, causing him to grimace and wipe it against his shirt.

Pulling his phone out from the pocket of his jumpsuit to look at the time, it was three thirty-four in the afternoon which means it was almost time for him to pack up and go. He begins putting the tools into a bucket, ready to take it back to the shed.

Luckily, Dohyun isn’t here today to bother him like he usually does by the end of the work day. He called in about something important he had to do. Jeongukk doesn’t know and he certainly doesn’t care.

Earlier when he was in the backyard with one of the other workers, he noticed that you weren’t there yet. Quite frankly, he doesn’t know if he wants to see you after what happened yesterday. He’s still a little worried that you might think he’s a creep now but judging from the smile you gave him before leaving, you might be okay.

When he’s walking towards the back with the bucket full of tools in one hand, he looks up and sees you lying on the sun lounger once again in your usual position with a book in your hand and wine glass in the other. He bites down on his lower lip, trying not to smile or look excited. However, the corners of his mouth can’t help but pull up at the sight of cute you look, invested into the book you’re reading. You eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a pout on your glossy lips.

He disappears into the shed, setting the bucket onto the shelf. Resting his hand on top of one of the wooden tables, he taps his finger against it in contemplation. Maybe he should walk up to you and apologize about his embarrassing friends yesterday. He’s not really the type to get embarrassed though. Jeongukk doesn’t know why but your opinion of him matters for some reason.

He also unfriended Taehyung on their PlayStation connect, refusing to play Call of Duty with him just to be petty. The other boy had called him through Jimin’s phone to whine and eventually, Jeongguk gave in.

He turns around, walking right out of the shed only to harshly bump into your body. You almost lose balance and fall back but he quickly catches you by wrapping one of his arms around your back like the males do in those Korean dramas Jimin watches. You squeal, hands pressing to his chest.

“Hi,” Your cheeks are flushed pink. Jeongguk just thinks it's cute that you’re flustered.

He’s trying so hard not to dip his gaze below your neck, knowing you were in another swimsuit where your cleavage is spilling out yet again. It looks even more visible from his angle above you due to his tall stature. Jeongguk gulps, a large hand pressed over almost the entirety of your bare back and he can feel you slightly shiver.

He is a weak man.

Your eyes are full of surprise, lips in a pout yet they look so damn kissable. He has the strong urge to lean down and press his lips against yours, curious about how they would taste. How it feels to put his tongue in your mouth and ravish you. Your neck looks kissable too, smooth, and bare and perfect for him to bite into.

Calm the fuck down, Jeongguk.

“Hey,” Jeongguk muses, lips quirking into a smirk. “Looking for me?”

“Uh…” You let out a breathy laugh, looking away, “Actually I was.”

This takes him by surprise, brow raising in question. You purse your lips, eyes trailing from his face to his chest which your hands are still pressed against. It appears you’re trying to control yourself as well. Avoiding looking at his chest, Jeongguk tries to hold back a laugh. Clearing your throat, you pat his right pec, signaling him that you were okay, and he quickly lets go.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, and you just shake your head.

“No no, you’re fine. It was my fault for bumping into you like that,” You reassure, fingers twiddling together.

“How are you doing?” You ask him and he just shrugs, leaning his shoulder against the doorway of the shed.

Keep it cool, Jeongguk. Pretend like yesterday didn’t happen. Don’t even bring it up.

“I’m alright. About to head out actually,” He informs you.

“Aw really?” you ask and Jeongguk could tell you’re a little disappointed from the way your shoulders drop.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” he tells you, making you nod understandably. “Is there something you needed?”

Your eyes widen in surprise for a second before they turn back normal, “Um I just needed help with something but it’s okay, you can leave. I don’t wanna hold you up. I’ll just ask someone else.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, “Nah don’t worry about it. What’s up?” He prods.

You look hesitant to speak, probably worried you’re being a bother even though you’re not. At least you’re speaking to him. He thought you would want nothing to do with him.

“The umbrella by the sunbed isn’t opening. I think the lever to pull it up is stuck,” You explain, hand referring to the closed umbrella by the chair.

Jeongguk looks at it before glancing back at you, “I can help you.”

Your eyes light up in happiness but you still ask, “Are you sure?”

He responds with a nod, giving you a reassuring look, “Yeah, it won’t take long I think.” He walks with you following in toe behind him. He feels your eyes on his back and he smirks a little.

He knows he has a nice ass. He’s been told by many. He takes great pride in it. However, it boosts his ego even more when he knows that you’re looking.

Wrapping his hand around the lever, he grunts when it takes a bit of a push to pull it up, but it eventually does, making you clap.

“Yay, thank you!” You grin, “The sun has been bugging me.”

“Yeah, no problem,” He rests his hands on his hips, glancing down at the book on the table. The edge of his lips quirk up.

“What?” You follow his line of vision and notice him staring at the book, “Have you read that book before?”

“Yeah, and the ending sucked,” Jeongguk tells you, picking up the book.

You groan, “No way, really?” And he nods in response. “I didn’t know you like romance books.” You say, curiosity in your tone.

Jeongguk shrugs, “I don’t,” That’s a lie, he loves them. “But my little sister loves them,” No she doesn’t, she’s a fan of the horror genre but you didn’t need to know that.

“Ah I see,” You look down at the floor, “I didn’t know you have a sister.”

“Yeah, she’s thirteen.” Jeongguk doesn’t know why he tells you that when you didn’t even ask.

You nod at the information, the air becoming silent for a moment. Neither of you speak, unsure of what to say. You seem to find the pool interesting, eyes set on the water, but your cheeks are flushed and you’re biting into your lower lip. Jeongguk takes that minute to allow his eyes to travel over your beautiful figure clad in a black one-piece that hugs your curves. It has a sweetheart neckline which again, shows a bit of your cleavage. There are slits running down on each side, revealing your skin even more.

He just wanted to pick you up and take you somewhere where he can devour you. Maybe even on the sunbed but that wouldn’t look good if someone walked in.

Jeongguk really needs to control his damn thoughts. You might not even be interested.

Mentally slapping himself out of his horny thoughts, he clears his throat, “So I notice you read a lot of books.”

Your eyes move back to his face and there��s a glint in your eyes, brow raised in question. “You must be looking over here a lot to notice then.”

Fuck, Jeongguk really dug his grave for that one. Why would he say that?

You have a knowing smile on your lips, but Jeongguk refuses to be nervous about it. Instead, he holds up his hands in defense and says, “It was just an observation,” You giggle and that makes his stomach flutter because holy shit, it was such an adorable sound, “I can’t help but look at what’s in my peripheral vision every time I come here.” He points to the shed.

You hum, amusement apparent on your face and you don’t push it any further. Instead, you respond, “Yeah, I read a lot,” A sigh escapes your lips, “I have nothing better to do if I’m being honest.”

Before he can even think he asks, “Don’t you have friends?” He wants to smack himself at how rude he must sound but you don’t seem to look offended.

Rather, you have a small smile on your lips, but it looks a little sad, and you shrug mindlessly, “Not really friends friends. Most people become friends with me because they know who my parents are or they’re too stuck up for my liking. My mother tries to get me to go out with some of the girls from people that she knows but…” You shake your head, a frown on your face as if thinking back to a memory, “…they’re really not my cup of tea.”

Jeongguk catches the small glimpse of sadness on your face and for some reason, it causes a small ache in his chest. He doesn’t know you at all, but he can tell you are genuinely being truthful about it. You seemed afraid to befriend someone without the intention of them using you. You’re not the type of person to let someone use you, he can see that. But you also seem to be a little worried about how people view you based on how he saw you interacting with his friends yesterday.

“So, you just sit by the pool and read all day?” He asks and you nod.

“Pretty much,” You confirm before adding, “Or watch Netflix in the theater room.”

Jesus, they have a theater room in this house? It shouldn’t surprise him, considering how large the mansion is but it still takes him by surprise. He can only imagine how amazing his video game would look on the large screen.

“Sounds…boring,” He states bluntly and you just laugh, nodding your head.

“It can be boring,” You agree.

Jeongguk ponders for a moment, looking away from you. Your life sounds pretty lame if he’s being honest. You’re a nice girl, he thinks. You don’t have much going on and you just got back from college. He can’t imagine how your days are going to look. If you’re just going to sit by the pool and read the rest all of the time…then maybe he can help.

He doesn’t know if he’s going to regret this. Or if he’s going to get in trouble for being involved with you, let alone talking with you. Jeongguk likes to think of himself as a pretty fun guy. Maybe he can show you just how to have fun.

He can’t believe he’s about to offer you this. Here goes nothing.

The tall boy clears his throat, opening his mouth to say, “You know,” You look at him, listening, “I was actually just about to head to this bar after work.” He really wasn’t but he can use a drink. “Do you wanna come?”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the question, “Me?”

Jeongguk snorts, “You’re the only one here aren’t you?”

You roll your eyes, cheeks tinting a little but you compose yourself, “Right. That would be–”

Before you can finish answering, a shrill voice calls for your name, causing you both to turn your heads to the door. Standing at the door dressed in a pristine white suit is a woman, sunglasses perched on her nose and hair tied in a tight bun. Her lips are set in a straight line and she’s staring at Jeongguk and you.

She looks kind of scary if you ask Jeongguk.

Is this who Jeongguk thinks it is?

“Y/N, what are you doing?” The woman asks accusingly.

“Mother,” Mother? “I just had to ask Jeongguk for help,” You tell her, “The umbrella wouldn’t open.” Your hand refers to the umbrella by the sunbed.

The woman hums but she still looks unimpressed. Jeongguk can already tell she wasn’t a fan of him. He can’t imagine how the scene looks to her; you standing a tad bit close to him, a house worker who she must think is slacking on the job. Not only that but the tattoos all over his arm must make her think he’s some sort of punk.

Not that it’s new to Jeongguk. He’s used to the last bit.

“Hm, well come inside,” Her voice is a little stern and he catches you rolling your eyes at ground, “And you,” She looks over Jeongguk, “Get back to work.”

You would think that Jeongguk is intimidated by Mrs. Kim but he’s really not. Instead, he gives her a smug smile, “I’m actually off work now, ma’am.”

“Oh,” Seoyeon has a fake smile on her face, “Well then you can lead yourself out of the gate over there.”

“Of course,” Jeongguk bows, pretending to be oblivious to her small frown. He looks over at you to see you staring at your mom with a look that says ‘you’re being rude.’

“I’ll be there in a second,” You inform her.

“No, now,” Your mother demands and he holds back a laugh when he sees you look up at the sky, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath to control yourself.

He wonders if you two get along.

You look over at Jeongguk, taking a few steps closer and whisper, “I’ll meet you outside of the front gate. Give me twenty minutes please.” Jeongguk’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise but his lips quirk up into a smirk. You bow to him and say, “Thank you for helping me with the umbrella, Jeongguk-ssi.” Your voice is a little loud so your mother can hear.

Jeongguk bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing before he gives you a small bow as well, “Of course, Ms. Kim,” He emphasizes your name and you narrow your eyes at him before quickly walking away.

He tries not to turn his head to watch you walk away, knowing that Mrs. Kim is staring. Instead he walks towards the gate to leave so he doesn’t have to feel her eyes on him anymore. Jeongguk isn’t bothered if the woman doesn’t like him, it’s not like he’s going to work here for very long.

Stepping out of the gate, he walks down to his beat up truck that’s parked down the street. There’s excitement swirling in his stomach at the thought of going out with you. He doesn’t know what to expect out of this but he’s about to find out. Maybe he’ll see that this nice personality of yours is just a facade and he’ll see your true colors.

Who knows?

If so, he would feel disappointed for some reason.

“Y/N, what was that?” Your mother asks you as soon as you walk in.

You feign innocence, “What was what?”

“Why were you speaking to him?” She presses, sliding her sunglasses into her hair.

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I told you why. He was literally just helping me.” You don’t understand why she’s being like this. She never cares about who you talk to. Somehow your interaction with Jeongguk is bothersome for her.

She stares at you for a moment, studying your face as if to figure out if you’re telling the truth. Few seconds later, she lets out a sigh, shaking her head. “That boy looks like bad news. I was just concerned that he was making you uncomfortable.”

“He wasn’t,” You quickly defend. Not once has Jeongguk done anything to make you feel uncomfortable. This is your first time interacting one on one. Sure you feel his eyes on you from time to time when you’re by the pool but you like that. You’ve purposely been sitting there, hoping to catch his attention. You would pick the cutest swimsuits just for that reason.

You would pout, feeling defeated every time he would leave without saying anything to you. Maybe he’s just not interested in you like that but your interaction with his friends says otherwise. You were determined to find out.

For him to invite you out to the bar had you feeling giddy and full of excitement. He doesn’t seem like he has any ill intentions. He honestly might just feel sorry for you because of how lame your life is. You’re not sure. But you want to explore more. You want to get to know him more because he’s lit this spark of curiosity in you that just wouldn’t go away.

“Okay,” Your mother gives you a tight lipped smile but she doesn’t look convinced. She changes the subject, “I was going to head out to the Kangs house for lunch. Their daughter just came back from Europe and I thought you would want to go.”

The Kang’s daughter? As in Kang Sohee? You would never willingly hang out with her. Not after this one time you went to their house when you were just a teenager and found her snorting cocaine off her bathroom counter. Immediately panicking, she begged you not to tell her parents. That was your first and last time ever going to Kang’s house.

So no, you don’t want to go.

“Actually, I’m going out with some friends,” You lie. You wouldn’t consider Jeongguk a friend, not even an acquaintance. You barely know him but who knows, maybe that could change after today.

Your mother casts you a look of surprise. Do you really look that much of a loner to everyone?

“Oh,” she responds, “Do I know them?” She wonders.

You shake your head no, you would never tell her who it is. Considering the way she acted earlier when she caught you speaking with Jeongguk, you know she would be unhappy if she found out you’re going to a bar with him.

“No, you don’t. I met them in America. They’re visiting here,” You explain and she nods, seeming to believe your words.

“Okay then,” Your mother looks a little speechless, “Have fun I guess.”

Shoulders relaxing, a shiver of excitement runs through your body when you turn around and go upstairs to your room to change. Before you can go up the second step, your mother calls for you, causing you to pause in your tracks and look at her questioningly.

“Y/N sweetheart, just be careful around that boy,” Your stomach drops when you realize she’s referring to Jeongguk and you think it’s because she might’ve figured you out. “He doesn’t look like a good influence. Let him do his job and leave.” You relax, realizing she just meant from what happened earlier.

You don’t say anything other than, “Okay.” Before going upstairs. You’re a grown adult. You can make decisions for yourself. You’d be damned if you let her words stop you from getting ready to go.

You rush into your walk-in closet to find some clothes. After a few minutes of searching through the racks, you go with a tight black off the shoulder top and pair it with high waisted loose jeans. To top it off, you wear a pair of chunky black heeled ankle boots on your feet. You don’t have time for doing a full face of makeup so you just put on some mascara and eyeliner. Smacking your strawberry flavored lip gloss against your lips, you run your hand through your hair that cascades down your back before grabbing the same Chanel purse you had on yesterday.

Rushing down the steps, you head out the front door, looking around to make sure you’re not leaving at the same time as your mother. You bow to the doorman at the gate, greeting him before he opens it and lets you out. Eyes wandering around your surroundings, your head snaps towards the sound of a car honking and you look to see a tattooed hand waving out of the window.

Your shoulders relax and you look behind you one last time before walking towards a black pick up truck. You open the door, greeting Jeongguk with a small smile and close it shut.

“Hi,” You greet shyly, tugging on the seatbelt.

Jeongguk looks amused, pierced lip curled up into a smirk, “Hey.” He then adds, “Sorry I didn’t get out to open the door for you. Chivalry is really dead, you know.”

You laugh at his honesty before saying, “It’s fine, I’m sick of people opening the door for me anyways.” You turn to look at him and swallow at how good he looks.

He must’ve changed in his car while waiting for you because now he’s wearing a black baggy shirt with a pair of ripped jeans. There’s a silver chain around his neck and his hair looks wavy as it curtains on each side of his face. One tattooed hand is resting on top of the steering wheel while the other is holding the gear stick.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” He comments and you roll your eyes, cheeks heating up.

Way to be fucking obvious.

“Whatever,” You respond, sitting back in the seat. You look around, eyes observing the car

“Yeah, it’s a pretty shitty car I know,” Jeongguk says as he pulls the car into drive.

You quickly look at him and shake your head, “No, it’s cute.” You shrug and he snorts, “I love the little key chain.” You reach up to play with the little anime keychain hanging from the rearview mirror.

“Cute huh?” Jeongguk muses and you just nod.

“Smells nice in here,” You remark.

“Oh yeah, I’m sensitive to smell. I’ve got like four car fresheners,” He tells you and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Four car fresheners?” You ask, judgment clear in your tone and Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak again.

“You try sitting in your own sweat after a long day of work. It stinks.” He defends before adding the next in a much quieter tone, “And I like the smell of flowers.” He mumbles, making you giggle.

“I don’t judge,” You respond and it's quiet for a few moments.

“Your mom certainly does,” He utters, clicking his tongue before looking at you, “Too soon?”

You shake your head, “No, it’s fine. She can be quite judgemental about people who aren’t…” You hesitate to finish the sentence but Jeongguk does it for you.

“Rich,” He states and you nod guilty. “It’s fine. I get it. I wasn’t really surprised if I’m being honest.”

“Really?” You stare at his side profile, taking in the slope of his nose and his sharp jawline. The silver barbell that runs through his dark eyebrows. God, he’s so fine.

Jeongguk just shrugs, glancing at you before he makes a turn, “I mean yeah. I guess it’s kind of something I expected of rich people.”

Your lips pull down into a small frown at his words, sullen from the thought that he may see you as judgmental. You don’t consider yourself judgmental. Or least, you try not to judge. And you definitely hate the whole rich people only talking to other rich people thing. That’s probably one of the many reasons why you aren’t friends with other people that your family knows. They always think they’re above everyone else.

You gather the courage to ask, “Is that what you think I am?” You wonder before adding, “And be honest.”

The car stops at a red light and he turns over to look at you, an unreadable glint in his eyes and his lips tug into a small grin, “You might not be so bad.” You relax at his words, the tension leaving your body. For some reason you just didn’t want him to view you as those arrogant rich people. He then adds, “Or you can just be fooling me right now and you could be crazier than you look?”

Your jaw drops in offense and you smack his shoulder, “What do you mean crazier than I look?”

Jeongguk cackles, throwing his head back and you gulp at the sight of the veins in his neck. “I’m kidding.” He says.

You scoff, crossing your arms to pretend to look annoyed. “I’m sure you were.”

“I aaaaam,” He drags, tugging at your elbow and you try not to smile.

In contrast from earlier when the silence was awkward by the pool, it seems to be more comfortable now that you’re talking and joking around. You can’t stop thinking about the smile Jeongguk had when he laughed. His bunny teeth displayed and his eyes crinkling. It had to be your favorite look on him and it makes you happy that you were the cause of it.

“So where is this bar?” You question, staring out the window as you drive through the city.

“It’s a bar in Itaewon,” He answers, making another turn at a light. “My friends and I go there all the time.” He tells you before adding, “You know, when we’re not broke and finally get our paychecks.”

You chuckle at the last bit because of how casually he says it and then you ask, “The friends I saw yesterday?”

“Mhm,” He confirms.

When your mind wanders to the events that took place yesterday, you remember how all of his friends were good looking. You recall the conversations you had but the main thing that brings a small smile to your face is when you realize how they knew your name.

“So,” You start and hear Jeongguk mumble under his breath ‘Oh god’ because you think he knows where this is going, “You talk about me to your friends huh?”

Jeongguk groans, looking as if he was dreading this conversation, “Look, I saw you walk into the coffee shop, recognized it was you and told them who you are.” He says and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously. He notices and clicks his tongue, “I’m serious, that’s what happened.”

“Right,” You say slowly, “Whatever you say.” Voice in a sing-a-song tone. You knew there had to be more to it but he wasn’t going to tell you it seems.

“Please, I’m sure you gushed about me being hot to your friends,” He says

“I told you I don’t have any friends– wait! Ah hah!” You raise your finger at him accusingly. “So you told them I was hot.” You feel a sense of pride at that, internally gushing over the fact that he finds you attractive.

“What–No I,” He tries to come up with something but at this point, there’s really no saving. He lets out a defeated sigh, “Yeah yeah, I might’ve mentioned that. So what?” He tries to be nonchalant about it.

Your lips pressed together to suppress a smile and you turn your head the other way so you’re looking out the window again, “Nothing.” Gathering up the courage you then mutter quietly, “I found you attractive too.” Your cheeks feel warm and you refuse to look at him.

Beside you, Jeongguk has a small smile on his face as he looks at the road ahead after hearing you utter the last part shyly.

The sound of glasses clinking and chatter fill your ears as you walk into the bar with Jeongguk. The interior design was dark and sleek, booths against one side of the wall and a row of tables pressed up against the other. The lights are a little dim but it fits with the vibes. The smell of bar food fills your nostrils, causing your mouth to salivate. There’s not many people right now but you can imagine how busy it’ll get later. There’s a bunch of men playing pool, laughing while sipping on their drinks.

You’re oblivious to the lingering eyes of other males on you until Jeongguk points it out, making your eyes widen in surprise. Curiously, you look around only to meet the eyes of a man who’s starring you up and down before he gives you a wink. Your face scrunches up in distaste and you roll your eyes before looking away. You feel the warmth radiating off Jeongguk's body which is pressed close to your side, his hand hovering over your lower back but not fully touching it. Almost as if he’s hesitant to touch you.

“You really don’t realize the effect you have huh?” He chuckles, pulling out the stool for you to sit on.

“I thought you said chivalry is dead,” You joke, sitting down on the stool before patting the one next to you.

“Listen, I’m not that much of an asshole,” He remarks, sitting beside you and you just giggle in response.

“Hey Jeongguk, what’s up man?” A tall man behind the bar greets, bumping his fist with the boy sitting next to you. He’s got tattoos as well though, not as much as Jeongguk but a few scattered on his arm and peaking out of his chest beneath his t-shirt. He’s got a handsome face as well.

Jesus, are all of his friends good looking?

“Yugyeom, hey,” Jeongguk greets.

“You guys on a date?” Yugyeom asks, wiggling his eyebrows before looking at you. “Hi, I’m Yugyeom, nice to meet you.”

You give a smile before introducing yourself as well, “Y/N.” Yugyeom bumps his fist with Jeongguk again, with a look you don’t seem to understand and you don’t think Jeongguk will explain to you either based on the sheepish expression on his face.

“So what can I get you guys to drink?” The bartender asks, hands pressed against the counter.

Jeongguk looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to respond. You shrug, “What kind of wine do you have?”

“Wine?” Jeongguk snorts, making you pout out of embarrassment.

“Leave me alone,” You whine, “I’m not much of a drinker.”

Jeongguk chuckles, shaking his head before turning to look at Yugyeom, “She’ll have a cranberry vodka and I’ll have the usual.”

Yugyeom nods, “You got it.” He turns around to begin making the drinks.

“I can’t believe you wanted wine,” Judgement in his tone but you can tell he was joking.

“That’s the only alcohol I really drink,” You defend, eating some of the complimentary nuts in front of you.

Jeongguk puffs out a laugh, “The wine you drink probably costs more than what my car is worth.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Rolling your eyes at his words, you just munch on the cashews. You notice how Jeongguk doesn’t grab those specifically, probably noticing that you like those the most from the way you kept eating them. You can’t help but smile at that, chest fluttering.

“Alright,” Yugyeom comes back, “Rum coke for you,” He hands the glass to Jeongguk, “And cranberry vodka for the pretty lady.” He gives you a charming grin when he hands it to you.

“Thank you,” You tell him and he just bows at you before walking away to another customer on the other side. You bring the glass up to your lips, feeling Jeongguk’s eyes on you when you take a sip. You smack your lips together, trying to decipher the taste. He’s looking at you curiously, small smile on his lips.

“What?” You ask him, wondering why he’s staring.

“How is it?” He asks.

You shrug, taking another sip and then say, “It just tastes like cranberry juice.”

“Here,” He slides his glass over to you, “Wanna try some of mine?” You nod in response, picking up the glass to take a small sip.

The taste is refreshing of the ice cold coke but you can feel that hint of bitterness from the rum hitting the back of your throat.

“Mm,” You hum. “It’s good. Refreshing, I like it.” You tell him truthfully. “Try some of mine,” You push your drink towards him.

“I’ve had this before,” He says but picks up the glass to take a sip anyways. You watch him when he does, eyes falling to his throat where his Adam's apple moves when he swallows the beverage. “I mean it’s good I guess.” He tells you before commenting, “It tastes like juice.” He reiterates with a shrug and you laugh in response.

“I told you!” You exclaim, taking another sip of his coke before handing it back to him but before you can, he shakes his head.

“Yeah honestly my hyung knows more about alcohol than me.” He tells you with a grimace before adding, “You can have that one,” you look at him questioningly but he just waves it off. “You like it, drink it.”

The butterflies in your stomach are intense, your heart swooning at his action. He’s just making you feel more and more interested in him. You did not expect him to be so thoughtful. Maybe it isn’t a big deal to him but for you, it’s such a kind gesture.

“Thank you,” You say, drinking again and he just nods in response.

“So how did you end up working as a gardener?” You wonder.

Jeongguk seems to choke on his drink a little, causing you to jump in surprise and look at him in concern. He clears his throat, setting the glass down onto the coaster.

“I uh…you don’t know?” He asks and you glance at him in question, shaking your head before bringing the glass up to your lips again. “Well… I hit your dad’s car.” He tells you and this time, you’re almost choking on your drink. Jeongguk holds out a napkin so you can wipe your chin.

“You what?” Your eyes are wide, mouth open and you look at him as if he’s joking.

He’s not.

He clicks his tongue, “Yeah… but listen, it wasn’t that bad. I just kind of tapped the back of his car but….yeah I couldn’t get away with it.” He shakes his head as if disappointed at that and it makes you laugh.

“Well at least you guys were okay,” You say pointedly and he nods in agreement.

“Your dad’s a real cheap ass you know that,” He says bluntly and you snort at that. “No but really, he is. Because he could’ve just let me go, you know. But no, he had to get my contact information. He knew I was broke by the looks of it so instead of paying him back directly, he told me I can work off my debt.” He explains, not caring one bit that it’s your father he’s talking about. You’re not offended in the slightest, looking at him in amusement which prods him to say, “What?”

You shake your head, pressing your lips so you don’t laugh, “Nothing. You’re just very honest.” You tell him.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, hand playing with the straw of his drink and he asks, “Is that…bad?”

“No,” You smile. “Not at all. It’s refreshing honestly.” It’s true. Half the time people talk to you, you can tell it was a facade sometimes which would be quite frustrating for you. They’d be afraid to say anything that would offend you, not wanting to be on your bad side.

But Jeongguk, he didn’t care. He was honest. You liked that a lot.

“That’s good,” He tugs at the piercing in his lip thoughtfully, “My hyung tells me I can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t disagree with that,” You mutter jokingly, causing him to look at you with narrowed eyes, tongue poking into his cheek.

“Gee, thanks.” His voice is monotone when he says it and you snicker.

“Now I have a question for you,” He says and you look at him, wondering what it could be.

“Sure, what is it?” You ask.

He purses his lips together in wonderment before asking, “How did Dohyun know you the first day we met? He talked to you as if you guys have been friends for a while.” His tone says that he was genuinely curious.

You suck in the air through clenched teeth and shake your head, “I wouldn’t say we’re really friends…maybe acquaintances? I’m not sure. I might sound like a bitch for saying that.” Jeongguk shakes his head as if saying no, encouraging you to continue, “His grandpa used to be the gardener for our house. He’d always come with him when he was a little boy,” You explain to him, thinking back to the times when you were just twelve years old.

Sometimes he’d come up to you when you were playing on the swing set and he’d hand you a single flower which you would take from him out of politeness. He looked so excited whenever you took it out of his hands and said thank you, almost as if it was the greatest achievement he ever made.

Other than flowers, he’d bring you single pieces of candy and you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you hated orange flavored candies. You would secretly give it to your younger brother everytime.

“And he’s been working there ever since?” Jeongguk asks and you nod in response.

“Yeah…pretty much. He was pretty upset when I had to leave for America,” You don’t know why you tell him that.

“Yeah?” He sounds amused, “The boy is quite literally whipped for you.” He tells you and you just shrug in response.

“Oh I already know,” You tell him and this time he looks at you with wide eyes, sipping on his drink as if this is the most interesting thing he’s heard. “It’s been like that since we were kids. I think he wanted to tell me before I left but I had to go so…he said he would tell me when I would come back.”

“Hm,” He hums, tongue pressing against his teeth as if pondering, “Well you’re back. Has he told you yet?”

You let out a relieved sigh, “No not yet. I’m afraid when he does tho. I don’t know if I have it in me to see the look of heartbreak on his face. He’s always smiling.” You tell him, feeling him look at you.

“He’d definitely be heartbroken, I can tell you that,” Jeongguk says before adding with a snort, “Could’ve sworn he was about to pop a boner when he saw you by the pool the first time I was with him.”

You look at him in disgust and he just cackles loudly, throwing his head back when he does, making you smile again. You just love when he laughs like that.

You purse your lips before asking, “How about you?”

Jeongguk looks confused, looking at you quizzically, “What about me?”

“Did you pop a boner when you saw me?” You joke but there was some underlying seriousness to it.

Jeongguk scoffs, looking down at the table, “As if I’d ever tell you that.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” You grin, about to take a sip of the coke but he grips the hand holding the cup before you can take the sip.

“Didn’t your parents teach you any manners? Gimme back my drink,” He commands, trying to take the glass away from you but you tighten your grip on the glass as he tries to pull it away from you but instead, tugs you along with it. You squeal, shuffling forward and instantly gripping his strong thigh when you feel yourself leaning back as if you were about to fall and he quickly wraps his left arm around your back to prevent it from happening.

Your faces are closer in proximity now, eyes staring at one another. There’s a certain glint in Jeongguk’s eyes when you look at them and you can’t help but fixate on his rose colored lips that have the silver piercing. You wonder what it would feel like against your own lips if you were to just lean forward and kiss them.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, teeth biting into your lower lip when you notice him glance down at your lips as well. Before anything can happen, you feel a finger poke your stomach, causing you to immediately recoil.

You look down to see Jeongguk’s pointed finger that did the action, surprised that you didn’t seem to notice it move away from behind your back. You also failed to notice him take the glass right out of your hands when he poked you, causing you to whine.

“Asshole!” You exclaim, attempting to get it back but he just turns his body away from you to take a sip, his left arm held in front of you as if to block you.

Jeongguk says after taking a sip, “I’m not the one asking people if they pop boners.” You roll your eyes at that, giving up and crossing your arms.

“I’m just kidding, here,” He holds out the glass for you and you lift your hand to take it but he pulls it back again to tease you, “Say please.” His voice is stern.

Instead you respond monotonously, “You’re a dick.”

Jeongguk sucks the air through his teeth and says, “You seem to be quite fond of my dick.” He jokes and you smack his shoulder, snatching the glass back so you can drink the rest of it.

For the rest of the night, you guys talk and laugh about random things while munching on the bar food Yugyeom gives you guys on the house. Jeongguk would make you giggle when he makes commentary on the men who were playing pool, making fun of how badly one of guys were playing and it was the same guy who had winked at you earlier. Once it was reaching 8 o’clock and the bar was in full swing, that’s when the two of you decided to leave.

This time when you were leaving the bar, his arm was wrapped around your back protectively as he guided you out of the place, fending off the lewd looks coming from the other men. Once you were outside and were walking towards his parked truck, you pause in your tracks, making him stop and gaze at you curiously.

“Wait,” Your eyebrows are furrowed, “Are you okay to drive?” You ask, realizing that you both just drank alcohol and that he still has to drive back.

Jeongguk breathes out a laugh, looking at you in amusement, “What do you take me for? A light weight?” You just raise your brow at him in response and he lets out a sigh, “I’m fine. It was just one drink. I wouldn’t be driving you back home if I knew I couldn’t.” His voice sounds truthful when he tells you this and for some reason, your heart stutters at that.

“Okay,” your shoulders relax and you nod, believing him.

Jeongguk releases his lower lip from his teeth and says, “If you’re still uncomfortable, I can call you a cab.” He offers and you just shake your head.

“No it’s okay,” You say before adding, “I trust you.”

He stares at you for a moment, eyes flicking around your face as if to see if you were telling the truth before he nods, “Alright, come on.”

The car ride back to your house was quiet for the most part. You’d say a few things here and there and Jeongguk would respond but there wasn’t more to it. The silence isn’t awkward however. Rather, it’s pleasant, a new wave of comfortableness between the two of you.

You had a really fun time tonight, you think. Probably the most in a while. You don’t think you can remember the last time you’ve laughed as much as you did tonight and it brings a smile to your face when you think about all the funny moments and jokes the two of you shared.

Jeongguk has ignited this fire inside of you that you don’t think you’ve ever felt. He’s funny, handsome, honest and thoughtful. For a guy you only literally just started talking to, you can already feel yourself starting to like him a lot more than you anticipated. At first you just found him to be attractive and thought he’d simply be a nice eye candy when you’d sit by the pool. However, after talking to him tonight, you found yourself wanting to get to know him more. He talked to you like you were any other person, not seeming to give a damn about who you are.

You don’t realize you’re smiling until you hear Jeongguk clear his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts and you notice how the car is now stopped and parked in front of the large gate outside of your house.

“Well, this was fun,” His tone is a little awkward when he says it, fingers tapping against the steering wheel.

You nod in agreement, grinning, “Yeah it was. I had a really good time.”

His lips quirk up into a small smile at that and he says, “That’s good. I’m glad.”

It’s quiet for a moment, the both of you unsure what to say. You break it first, “I guess I should go then.” He nods in response, clicking the unlock button of the doors.

You open the door, hesitating to get out. You’re about to step out but pause for a second, turning to look at him only to find him already looking at you. He looks curious when you stare at him and asks, “What?”

Here goes nothing.

You scoot over in the passenger seat, leaning over the console to peck the corner of his mouth before pulling back and stepping out of the car, “Goodnight. See you tomorrow!” You speak fastly, swiftly shutting the door before rushing towards the gate.Your cheeks are warm and he probably saw how red they are. He just stares at you wide eyed, almost in disbelief at what just happened.

You press your lips together, keeping yourself from smiling before waving at him one last time. You hope it wasn’t weird for him. If you read this entirely wrong the whole time, you don’t know how you would face him tomorrow.

You had no idea that Jeongguk was still sitting outside in his truck, a smile playing on his lips at what just happened.

Jeongguk couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday night. The way you would throw your head back and laugh, hand covering your mouth. He kept making jokes and waggish commentary about how ridiculous other people in the bar look. He noticed that you were definitely a light weight. You weren't drunk but you were a little tipsy.

You became a little more touchy, shoving him or smacking his shoulder at times when he’d tease you. At one point, your hand was on his thigh absentmindedly and he’d begun to get nervous when it fell dangerously close to his crotch. It wasn’t intentional. You were clueless to how close your hand was, too busy rambling to an old man about the tricks of blackjack.

Did he mention that you’re more socializing after drinking alcohol?

Jeongguk found himself having a good time with you, enjoying your bubbly and talkative personality. You were more open and comfortable around him so it was gratifying to see this side of you. You didn’t have some nice act persona that you were putting up.

It’s what happened at the very end of your time together that had him stunned. When you kissed him on the corner of his mouth and gave him the prettiest smile he’s ever seen on you. Your cheeks were flushed a pink and you looked proud of yourself from the glimpse he caught your face before you rushed out of his truck.

It brought an automatic smile to his face, hand touching the part where you kissed him. How soft your lips felt on top of his skin. The scent of strawberry coming from your lip gloss that lingered. It’s not like Jeongguk hasn’t been kissed before. He has. But this felt different. This kiss came from you. He can feel himself having an actual crush on you. Not just physically wanting you but emotionally. He can feel something there. He was willing to explore it with you. Take it further.

Is he thinking too far ahead?

Sue him, this might just be his first real crush in so long. He knows there’s still so much to learn about you but after last night, he thinks he gets the idea. He just wants to see where it goes.

All he knows is that he likes being around you a lot.

A small smile is playing on his lips as he cuts the unnecessary weeds out of one of the bushes and he doesn't realize it until Dohyun comes up to him and points it out.

“Hey hyung! What’s got you all happy?” The boy asks in bafflement, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile since you’ve started working here.”

Jeongguk’s smile immediately drops, mouth pulled into a straight line. He’s not telling this guy why he’s happy. Considering Dohyun has the biggest crush on you, he has no idea how he’d react. Not that he’d trust Dohyun regardless of if he has a crush on you or not. Jeongguk assumes no one around the house is allowed to know about you and him hanging out and maybe he just prefers to keep it that way.

He feels a bit bad for the guy if he’s being honest. Dohyun’s been crushing on you since guys were just kids meanwhile Jeongguk just met you. However, you’ve made it clear that you do not see Dohyun in that way at all.

If you really like Jeongguk, he’d be an idiot to pass that up.

“Nothing man,” Jeongguk responds, turning to look at Dohyun only for his eyes to widen at the sight he sees before him.

Dohyun no longer has the long hair that gets into his face. His hair is now cropped short on the sides and trimmed at the top. Gone are those thick rimmed glasses that’s constantly pushing up the bridge of his nose. But that’s not what takes Jeongguk by surprise the most, it’s the black slacks and white button down that he has on that makes the older wonder what he’s up to. There’s a bouquet of red roses in one hand and a box of what looks like chocolates in the other.

Oh God, is he about to do what he thinks he is?

“Uh hey…” Jeongguk starts, dropping the plant snips onto the floor, “What’s with the whole…” He gestures his hand towards Dohyun’s get up.

The younger man grins, cheeks tinting a little pink, “I’m about to ask Y/N out on a date.”

Well fuck.

taglist: @janedukiesworld @rjsmochii @mwitsmejk @jjeonjjk7 @whoa-jo @tearsdntfall617 @linda-botello

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sushiwriterhere · 10 months

Text

two: required texts

flight path

summary: "It takes your remaining sober thoughts to refocus on beer pong instead of how hard it hits you that you want Jake." rating: mature (eventually explicit, 18+ mdni) pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x f!reader word count: ~6.9k lol warnings: angst, masturbation ment, enemies to lovers!, college au!, eventual smut, hangman being hangman, no use of y/n. notes: dedicated to @waklman bc u entertain my insane dms <3 pls pls pls let me know what you think everyone!! masterlist here this fic is being posted from my queue while I have little access to the internet. any tag list requests/fic replies will be slow; thanks!

"Jake said you were coming to our party this Friday?" Bradley's smile is so genuine, so unlike everything about Jake, "Never thought you'd agree but it'll be good to see you."

Sometimes you regret making things so sour with Jake, because Bradley’s actually really sweet. He’s been letting you and Jake duke it out about your project at their breakfast bar counter while he cooks in the background. He’s kind of always on FaceTime with someone, usually a girl, and he even makes a mean chocolate chip cookie. Something about the flakey sea salt just does it.

Bradley is the kind of guy you think you might settle down with one day. Bradley doesn’t throw his hands up in the air at you in frustration when you argue about what exactly qualifies as sustainability, and he certainly does not make deals with you to try and get you to come to frat parties.

That being said, he looks so happy to hear that you might be joining them that you really don’t have the heart to knock him down.

“Oh, yeah, Jake–” You consider your words carefully.

Jake hadn’t explicitly said that the deal was to be kept hush-hush, but you didn’t really know how much you wanted people knowing that you were willing to trade your introvert lifestyle just to ensure a good grade. Plus, it felt just a smidge pathetic that that was what you’d caved to.

“Jake told me he talked you into it in exchange for going with your lead on your project, but it doesn’t seem to really be working.” Bradley’s laugh fills the hallways of the lab and you feel yourself tense up.

God, you really did get the short end of the stick if it was that obvious that Jake wasn’t holding up his end of the bargain at all.

“Yeah... well...” You trail off, twisting your hands in front of you until someone calls you name at the end of the hallway.

Bradley looks at you, his gaze a little too knowing, before you both wave goodbye and you take off toward the sound of your supervisor’s voice.

Running into Bradley is one thing, he’s nice and doesn’t make you want to poke your eyeballs out, getting to the end of the hallway to see Jake standing in front of your professor with an easy-going smile on his face is another. Fantastic.

“Mr. Seresin here was just telling me that the two of you have been hard at work,” Jake bounces his shoulders just a little behind your professor’s back, as if rubbing it in how much he’d obviously been talking himself up in the few seconds before, “I have high expectations for the two of you.”

You resist the urge to call him a dumbass in front of the man who’s probably going to single handedly get you into MIT, and school your features into something a little more school-appropriate. You are not going to let him screw this, especially this, up for you.

“Of course, Professor Simmons, we’re certainly putting our all into it.” Jake mock gags behind the professor’s back for a split second before he turns around, and then he’s the picture of academic excellence.

Simmons wanders off in the way he usually does, leaving just you and Jake standing in the hallway. Distantly, you know that you’re technically on the clock, but you’re well-liked enough that you can get away with a little time theft. No one’s had any complaints on time sheet day so far.

Jake rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, smile ever present. For a moment, he looks a bit unsure of himself, but the expression is gone even quicker than it came.

“What are you doing in the labs, Jake. Don’t you have some other poor girl to harass?” You cross your arms and stare expectantly at him– you’d rather spend your stolen time reading the New Yorker on your phone and not dealing with Jake Seresin.

“Was just dropping by to chat with Simmons, you know how it is. Office hours, etcetera, etcetera.” He’s at ease once again, his gaze trained fully on you.

“Why did you say etc like that?”

“Did you just say ‘e-t-c’?”

For a moment there’s complete and entire silence, the type that happens right before exams are handed out. Then, Jake starts howling with laughter, completely doubled over. You watch in horror, listening to his voice echo around the sterile hallways and probably right into every professor’s office.

Once he’s done completely humiliating you, he stands up and wipes at his eyes, “Sorry, you just—you were lecturing me the other day about ‘histrionics’ and you’ve never heard etcetera said aloud have you?”

You bristle, teeth gritted, “I’ll have you know, you can say it either way.” He doesn’t need to know, but you haven’t heard it aloud.

“Oh, I was also looking for you.” His abrupt change of subject makes you nervous.

You and Jake have admittedly been spending a lot of time together. After your first few hours at the library, Jake’s been making a habit of being around you. Like, a lot.

First, he’s always sitting next to you in your shared classes. You’re only taking four, and sharing three of those is just a lot of Jake-time. He mostly leaves you alone, thankfully, but he’s taken to poking you to get your attention for his random thoughts, turning his computer your direction to show you a funny meme someone sent him, and occasionally reaching over to doodle on your notes. He also always uses your shared seat rest.

You don’t know why you let him do it. But, if you were brutally honest, it’s kind of nice having him around. Despite all your petty disagreements, Jake’s a bright personality, and it makes your stomach flip in a funny way when he spots you across the quad and waves wildly to get your attention, or when he buys you lunch before your library sessions. You do keep bickering about nearly everything though.

That’s the second thing. Now, after your two classes together on Mondays and Wednesdays, the two of you will go to the library and study til the wee hours of the morning. On more than one occasion, he’s bought you coffee to sustain your hours of staring at complex equations and trying to apply to grad schools.

(“What grad school are you applying to now?”

“Nunya.”

“Okay, unless the top fifteen rankings have been updated since the last time I checked there is no grad school that—“

“Nunya business.”

“Very funny. Real mature. You’re really childish y’know that.”

“I’m childish? Remind me which one of us spent eighty five dollars at a candy store last week after taking forty five minutes to decide.”

“There’s a lot of options!”)

You two don’t make a lot of conversation but it’s getting easier to talk to him like he’s a normal person, like he’s anyone else. You still keep your cards close to your chest, though, unready to let him in fully and still not entirely trusting him.

Once, you’d shared a bit about how much pressure you felt to get into a top graduate program, to ensure that your parents were taken care of as an only child. Jake had been surprisingly empathetic, and had shared some about his home life, which you suspected wasn’t as idyllic as he made it seem, but it had made you smile.

“Youngest, with four sisters, I was a little doll,” He’d laughed. He never talked about his parents, really.

It had been an odd moment of peace between the two of you until he had teased you for the way you read out an equation as you were checking your work, and then it was back to trading barbs.

The third thing is that he hadn’t invited you to a party til this week, about four into the semester. Before he had, it hung over your head like an anvil–ominous, always present, and not exactly forthcoming on when it was planning on crushing you like a bug.

He’d been too nice about it, assuring you that whatever you wore would be fine (“Just think... slutty?” “Don’t be sexist, Jake.” “What! That’s what the sorority girls say.” “Well, are you a sorority girl?” “I can be if you want me to be, sweets.” “You have issues.”). He’d also said he’d keep an eye out on you but that his frat brothers were all great people, and besides, Bradley would be around. You don’t really want to share how it makes you feel that Bradley had asked you if you really were attending.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re coming on Friday.” His smile softens into something more genuine than his usual wild grin. “Was worried I might’ve scared you off.”

You huff, “I’m not scared.”

The way he looks at you in that moment makes you want to shove him so he’ll stop staring at you, a combination of pity and something else you’re afraid to identify, “No, not at all.”

Then, his demeanor changes back into something that’s a bit more familiar to you as he tucks his hands into his pockets and turns to leave, “Besides, if you don’t come, we’re doing our entiiiire project on Naval mechanics. Bye!”

He’s gone before you can yell at him.

This isn’t who you are–outfits strewn all over the floor of your room, music blaring from your phone where it’s charging in the corner, a layer of nervous sweat starting to coat your forehead and palms. Nothing fits right or in a way that doesn’t make you want to lose your mind.

For a moment, you wish that you were a sorority girl, surrounded by women who know all the cultural rules of what you’re about to walk into. It’s not in a “I’m not like other girls” way, but more in a “my parties consist of wine and boardgames”. You are excited, but you also just feel stupid.

You jump about half a foot in the air when your music cuts off all of a sudden and is replaced by the someone singing “save a horse, ride a cowboy” at far too many decibels. Scrambling, you grab your phone from the far side of your bed and see that it’s Jake trying to FaceTime.

“When did you change your ringtone?” Is the first thing you say when you pick up, endlessly irritated. “Your voice is terrible, by the way.”

Jake just laughs, “Oh, it absolutely is not. And you left your phone unlocked when you went to the bathroom two weeks ago, it was the only logical course of action. How have you not noticed til now?”

“I keep my phone on silent like a normal person.” You try to angle the camera so he can’t see the fact that you’re only in a sports bra and that you are absolutely not dressed despite the fact that you need to leave relatively soon.

“Again with this normal person thing, sweets,” He looks like he’s walking through the frat house as you hear people in the background, and you have half a mind to ask if Bradley’s around but decide against it. Something tells you Jake would be, well, weird about it. “You have got to be the least normal person I know, and that’s saying something.”

The absolutely unimpressed look on your face makes him laugh, and you almost hang up until you remember that he could potentially be helpful with your predicament. He wasn’t helpful last time but maybe this time he will be. He at least knows more about what girls are supposed to wear to this stuff.

“Jake...” You start, unsure of how to even ask.

‘Oh hey Jake, how am I supposed to dress slutty for the frat party you cajoled me into going to because this is really out of my comfort zone and I’m this close to just telling you we can do your stupid Naval aircraft idea so that I don’t have to deal with this’ is a decidedly bad start.

“Sweets...” He croons back at you over the phone as he sets you down on a bathroom counter.

It’s then that you realize that he’s been shirtless this entire time, and is still very much shirtless. Look, you may have a deep dislike for Jake Seresin as a person, but you’re not blind. You have eyes. And your eyes are telling you that Jake is absolutely so fucking fine that you have sort of forgotten your question.

He’s absentmindedly applying shaving cream to his face and bustling around the bathroom while opening drawers and humming to himself. You remain silent.

You just sort of stare at him for a few seconds before he raises an eyebrow at you. It’s then that you realize you’re holding your phone at an atrocious angle and you’re supposed to be asking him how to dress for this and showing him the insides of your nostrils is definitely not going to be doing you any favors.

“Sweets, did you have something you were going to say or are you just going to spend the next thirty minutes checking me out?” Jake says it so nonchalantly it almost makes you hang up, but you’re caught off guard by how something as simple as watching him shave on FaceTime can feel so endearing and domestic.

“Very funny. I was going to tell you you have something sticking out of your nose but I guess I won’t now.” You huff, hoping it’ll distract him from the last two minutes of silence.

At the very least, it works. Jake frantically tries to figure out what’s danging from his nose while you try and regroup.

“I need your help picking an outfit.” It’s dramatic, but it feels like a weight off your chest to say it, “I just– Well, it’s just that nothing looks good and I hate this.”

Jake sets his razor down and leans close to his phone so you can see only his face and nothing else, “Lemme see what’cha got, sweets.”

The next twenty minutes are, somehow, not entirely excruciatingly painful. Jake immediately vetoes every single one of your business casual outfits (“You are not wearing slacks to a frat party, sweets, be serious.”) but he’s nice about it. When you dive deep into your closet to pull out a box of items you haven’t thought about since you bought them freshman year, you really start to reconsider how much you don’t want to work on Naval mechanics.

“Okay, you can’t be mean, I bought these freshman year in a moment of weakness.” You can feel how hot your face is and you barely manage to get through the sentence without stammering or hanging up on him.

You lay out the tops on your bedding–Jake had already approved of a pair of jeans you hardly ever wore. These pieces are much more party-oriented than anything else you regularly wear, and you remember how for a weekend freshman year you’d felt so alienated, so weird, that you’d spent almost three-hundred dollars on going out tops. You’d returned most of them but the ones in front of you you’d kept in secret hope maybe you’d get to wear them.

“You are a liar.” Jake’s voice comes softly from your phone and you frown.

“I literally just asked you to not be mean. You can’t even not be mean when—”

“Sweets, any guy here would pass away at the sight of you in any of these,” He says and you make sure the camera isn’t on you so you can contort your face into a silent scream, “Talkin’ about, ‘I have nothing to wear’.”

“Drama queen.” It’s all you can say, but the thought of him passing away at the sight of you? That might be more appealing than you’d like to admit.

God, it’s so fucking loud in here. You managed to arrive fashionably late, as Jake advised. Now, you’re just sort of standing by the doorway, unsure of where to go or who to talk to.

Then, all of a sudden, Jake appears next to you, all bright eyes and white teeth as he bobs along to the music. He grabs your arm and pulls you into an excessively tight hug, one that smooshes your face into his chest and traps your arms at your sides. You try not to breathe in too hard, but you can’t really avoid smelling him (like a fucking weirdo). You’re only slightly disappointed to note that Jake smells really good.

“Sweets! I thought you’d bailed!” He exclaims, letting you go only slightly so he can take a look at your face. “When did you get here?”

“Um, like ten minutes ago?” You try and push out of his arms but he’s got a strong grip on you–glancing to the side you see that he’s grasped his elbows so you’re completely stuck.

“Only one hour and fifty minutes left to go!”

And with that, you’re being hauled off by one arm through the frat house. You stumble on your feet but manage to catch yourself on Jake when you trip over a beer can someone just threw on the ground. He turns around with a glint in his eye.

“Sweets, if you wanted to cuddle, you should’ve just said so!” His tone is gleeful, but he steadies you gently anyway.

“Just get me a drink, Jake.”

He doesn’t let you go but this time his grip is gentler and he walks at a human pace instead of trying to make record time. After turning a few corners, you finally arrive in the kitchen.

You have to admit, you’re sort of jealous. Your apartment isn’t tiny by any means, but you’d love to have a kitchen this sprawling, with its huge windows, what looks like a state of the art fridge, and granite countertops the sheer square footage of which could make you drool. You feel a rush of disappointment at how dirty it is in here, but you squash it remembering that this is a frat house. Clean is nowhere near part of these men’s vocabulary.

Jake makes you a drink that seems to be some odd combination of liquors and juices (he avoids the jungle juice thankfully, almost turning green when you ask him if you should try some–“Not unless you want to spend all of tomorrow throwing up.”). When he hands it to you, he looks at you expectantly, like a child who just gave their parent a crayon drawing.

“Well? What do you think?” You grimace on instinct when the liquid hits your tongue, but you realize it’s actually not that bad.

You tell him as much. Maybe you’re already starting to get drunk because it’s the only explanation for the way you think the look on his face could persuade you to drink three hundred cups of this if it means having him smile at you like that again. You keep drinking to avoid spilling your guts, figuratively.

Jake makes himself a cup while yammering on about planning the party, how he took shots with his frat brothers before you got here, and how he has a brunch planned Sunday with a few of his frat brothers. It’s all a bit too close, too intimate to be honest. Even with everyone around you, even with the way he almost has to yell so you can hear, it feels like it’s just the two of you. It makes you want to flee, but you force yourself to stay put in an effort to at least try.

And it’s not actually terrible. You keep sipping on the drink Jake made you, and try to engage with him.

He’s in the middle of telling you a story about him and Bradley from freshman year when one of his frat brothers walks up to the two of you with a wicked grin on his face.

“Now who is this, Jake?” He’s terribly handsome, but something about the way he’s looking at you sets you on edge.

“Javy, meet sweets.” Jake gestures at you with his perfectly iconic red solo cup.

You roll your eyes at the introduction, “That’s not my name.”

But Javy doesn’t let you correct the record, instead his entire face lights up. He looks like a kid on Christmas as he wraps an arm around Jake’s shoulders and looks between the two of you, a gleeful expression spreading over his face.

“You are famous in this frat, I hope you know that.”

You prepare yourself for a snide remark about your attitude in class, about your reputation, but instead Javy leans in close, so close that you can see how perfect his skin is (what the hell?), and he whispers conspiratorially, “Jake here never shuts up about you.”

The whisper clearly isn’t meant to keep much secret and Jake obvious hears him because he shoves Javy off him and starts waving his hands at him to shoo him off. When he turns back around, he’s blushing and you don’t think it’s from the alcohol or the heat.

“Talking shit?” You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow expectantly, not knowing what you’d do with any other explanations.

“Something like that. Want more to drink?”

He clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, and he clearly doesn’t want you to remember this conversation either, because his next pour is overly generous. After that, he drags you out of the kitchen to ‘socialize’. He keeps you next to him, occasionally slinging an arm around your shoulders or even just leaning on you.

Much to your dismay, Jake doesn’t let you wallflower, to disappear as you stand next to him–suddenly you’re being introduced to everyone in the frat. You grouse about being forced to remember a thousand different white men’s names and Jake’s laugh rises even above the din of the music and the chatter. You’re loath to admit it aloud, but it’s sort of nice, being included, being in on jokes and spoken to like you might have something funny or interesting to say.

Part of you wants to bring up what Javy said, because almost every guy that Jake introduces as being part of his frat smiles in the exact same way that Javy had. Like a cat who got the cream. But the alcohol is making your tongue heavy and you worry what might be said if you start down that path.

Then, you hear your name distantly, and you whip around to see Bradley making his way through the crowd waving wildly. Nearly missing elbowing some poor sorority girl in the head, he pushes past people. His face is flushed from drinking and the heat, and he’s got his phone pressed to his ear. Why he’s attempting to take a phone call in this type of environment, you’re really not sure.

When he gets to the both of you, he at least has the sense to hang up before he separates you from Jake when he sweeps you up into a bear hug that lifts your feet off the ground and crushes you to him. He seems so happy to see you, and you smile bashfully as you hug him back.

Once your feet are back on the ground and Bradley’s released you, you notice how Jake has stiffened slightly beside you. He and Bradley engage in some long, complicated handshake that ends with jazz hands and eventually Bradley sweeps away in just the same way he came over. No words are exchanged, and Jake relaxes when Bradley’s out of sight.

“You’re being weird,” You accuse, leaning into Jake so you can get closer to his ear to be heard over the noise, “Well, you’re always weird, but you were being weird towards Bradley.”

“Was not.” Jake says haughtily, pouting lightly like a child.

“You’re literally pouting right now.” You’re too tipsy to deal with him acting like you just took away his toy truck, and you poke his arm to emphasize your point.

Jake immediately schools his expression before taking you by the arm and pulling you outside. His broad form clears the way for you and you do your best not to trip on any more beer cans. You two aren’t alone by any means, but here the sound has space to dissipate. There’s beer pong tables, a bonfire going (which, frankly, seems very unsafe), and people milling about.

“Do you like Bradley?” The two of you are now standing off to the side of the sprawling deck behind the frat house, illuminated by a series of string lights that only seem slightly out of place for a frat house and Jake’s staring at you intently.

You shrug, “I mean, what’s not to like? It’s Bradley, I think we’re friends.”

This is so awkward and you hate it with every fiber of your being.

He wrings his hands just a bit, and it strikes you that there’s a chance that he’s actually upset. It’s not the kind of annoyed that he always seems to take on when you two are going at it, it’s more genuine, like whatever he’s imagining might be enough to get him really worked up. He opens his mouth but then shuts it.

“Jake. What is wrong with me liking Bradley.” This is so ridiculous–standing in the backyard and trying to get Jake to talk about whatever issues he has or doesn’t with Bradley is probably almost as close to the opposite of socializing as just staying home would have been.

“You don’t like like him, though, right?”

You roll your eyes and snap at him, “Jake, what is this, middle school?” He’s not calling you sweets, and when you notice, it bothers you just a tad more than you’d like to admit, “No, I like Bradley because he doesn’t yell at me when I correct his projections and he makes a mean chocolate chip cookie. He’s a friend.”

Everything about his demeanor changes in the oddest way when you say that, he peps up and it’s like the Jake that was pouty (jealous?) was never there, and he takes you by the hand, “Great! That’s solved then, let’s go play beer pong.”

You try to ignore the way you get emotional whiplash as he drags you over to the people standing around a folding table.

But you can’t help it. As Jake tries to teach you how to play beer pong you end up ruminating on whatever the hell that just was. Why would it bother Jake if you did “like like” Bradley? The two of you, you and Jake, could barely be classified as friends. Besides, as frat brothers, there’s no way both Jake and Bradley haven’t gotten around or even been with the same girl. No shame for anyone involved, but what’s his fucking deal? (And, Bradley’s a cutie, so what?)

Eventually, you give up trying to figure out what Jake’s issue is as the two of you start losing at beer pong, and badly, given just how inebriated you are. Jake keeps trying to shout instructions every time you go to throw the ping pong ball and it keeps messing you up, so eventually you shove at him. He barely moves as he starts laughing at your anger.

“Jake! Stop messing me up!” You can feel how bad your coordination is from the alcohol as you stumble a bit as you lean your weight into him. “You’re making us lose!”

He can barely breathe through how hard he’s laughing at how far off your last shot had been, but he still steadies the both of you and wraps his arms around you, “Sweets you’re just too easy to mess up, oh my god. Are you even looking at the cups?”

You just hit his chest once as you start taking in the way that you’re pressed up against each other. He doesn’t let go of you. Instead, he just sort of lets you step back enough to have full control of your arms and continues standing at your side with his arms around your waist. Then, he starts leaning down to breathe instructions in your ear.

Normally you would find it in yourself complain about how gross having his breath in your ear is, but in that moment, already past tipsy and just enjoying the warmth of his body and skin against yours, all you can do is shiver. You fuck up your next shot worse than the last one. You hope it’s dark enough to cover how flustered you are as the patio lights glimmer weakly in the distance.

It takes your remaining sober thoughts to refocus on beer pong instead of how hard it hits you that you want Jake.

It’s honestly the most fun you’ve had in a long, long, time and you lose yourself in it. Jake at your side, his arms wrapped around you, laughing loudly as you lose to team after team. He barely removes himself to make his shots. When he laughs it shakes your whole body. Every time he takes a step, he knocks your legs together so you move with him.

You’ve continued drinking so you’re only getting progressively drunker and it only makes you focus on him more. You lose track of time completely and wholly.

Every time you turn to look at him or talk to him, Jake’s already looking at you. He keeps looking at your lips. In that moment, your rivalry, the project, and really, the entire world falls away. You have nothing to think about but how warm he is, how good he smells, and how you want to keep this moment in a jar so you can come back to it later.

You think he might kiss you.

The moment breaks when you feel Jake’s phone start buzzing against your leg and he finally lets you go. In an instant, he takes a step back from you and his arms are gone. You didn’t realize just how much his body heat was keeping you warm in the cool evening air til he removes himself from you completely. You miss it immediately.

He steps off to the side, face completely impassive but frozen in a smile as he reads a text, and he starts typing furiously. The smile slides off your face as you think of all the girls in his phone who are probably waiting for his drunk “you up?” texts and you take a step back, putting more space between the two of you. Someone more important than you must want his attention.

“I, uh, I’ve got to go, sorry, sweets.” Jake says, but you don’t feel the apology as much as you do the rejection. It stings in the way a harsh winter wind burns at your cheeks, pricking your skin and raising the blood to your face.

Somewhere in your mind, you remember considering hooking up with someone tonight. That’s what people do, right? Get drunk, sleep with a stranger, then stumble home in last night’s outfit in the morning. And maybe somewhere along the way, maybe between drinks three and four, you’d thought about what it might be like to kiss Jake. At some point when you’d watched his eyes linger on your lips, you thought that was it.

You take a few steps back, trying to feel sober again, but swaying slightly without Jake to hold you, “Right.”

His face falls as he takes a step toward you, but the magic of the night is gone. There isn’t anyone standing on the opposite of the folding table anymore. The backyard is somehow too quiet despite the loudness coming from the house. Jake doesn’t reach for you when he sees the expression on your face.

“I’ll uh, venmo you for the Uber.” His face betrays nothing but the cool indifference you remember from freshman year–are you really back to where you started after everything tonight?

Him offering to pay for you only makes you remember that you hate him–flirting with you all night then ditching you to go hook up with someone he actually likes. Classic Jake Seresin, everybody.

You don’t care that he slept with someone else after how close the two of you were. You are deciding not to care. It does not bother you because you and Jake aren’t even friends, you are sworn enemies and the only reason you’re even going to these parties is so that you can ensure the project isn’t a flaming mess.

You’re repeating these mantras to yourself from the moment you wake up, while you go to classes, while you avoid making eye contact with or speaking to Jake for fear he’ll know. You say it to yourself as you sit silently across from him in the library, headphones firmly over your ears so you don’t have to hear him ask if you want coffee.

He brings you one anyway.

It’s clear that you are utterly failing to convince yourself, because all you can think about is how close he was, how the heat radiated off his body, how he smelled, and how his eyes flitted down to your lips ever so often. You feel like you want to crawl out of your own skin with the realization that you want Jake to want you. You’ve sort of always wanted his attention, it’s just that up until now it’s almost entirely been in the form of your little rivalry.

You find yourself scoffing as a thought comes to the forefront of your mind, It’s like in those romance novels. That shit does not happen to people like you.

The shame and desire washing through you reaches its peak when you find yourself biting into your fist with your hand between your legs a week after the party. All you can think about is how he’d smelled, how close he’d been to you, and the way his hands felt around your waist. You finish with a whine tearing itself from your chest and a deep sort of mortification coursing through your veins.

You can’t avoid him forever though, the work must go on.

The thought of attraction goes as quickly as it comes when you find yourself sitting across from him at his and Bradley’s kitchen table again, the two of you bickering about a piece of analysis.

“Why do you refuse to listen to me, even the slightest bit, sweets? I’m literally second in our class, I can’t be an absolute idiot.” Jake looks at the ceiling as if some supernatural being will give him the strength to deal with you, and sighs heavily.

You clench your fists, “I’m not refusing to listen to you, Jake, I’m just telling you that you’re wrong.” You don’t remind him you’re first in the class.

Bradley walks in the kitchen, phone held casually in front of his face, a bag of chips grasped in his other hand. He stops to observe the two of you still arguing, now going on about a quiz question you two had disagreed on first semester sophomore year. He could be surprised that you and Jake have found something else to argue about, but then again Jake told him the two of you spent almost three straight hours arguing your first time together at the library. He’s also been witness to countless pointless fights about god knows what since the beginning of the semester.

“Can you two just fuck already, good god.”

The room goes so quiet the only thing you can hear in your ears is your own heartbeat. Jake looks similarly mortified, cheeks turning red as he tucks his head to the side in clear embarrassment. The tips of his ears are bright red.

Bradley, unaware of the absolute nuclear bomb that he just dropped, tucks his chips into the pantry, and leaves as the FaceTime call sound starts trilling from his phone.

Neither you or Jake move. All you can think about is how you felt in that moment last Friday, Jake pressed up against you, his breath heavy in your ear, and his body solid and warm against you. You think about the way want had coursed through your veins when you’d been alone. But he doesn’t want you. His current reaction is evidence enough.

Jake’s the one to break the silence by muttering something under his breath.

“What?”

“I said, he’s one to talk.” He clears his throat and avoids eye contact.

You can’t take this, so you try to laugh a bit, but it sounds fake and tinny in your ears, “And I don’t know what he’s talking about. In case everyone’s lost their minds and forgotten, I do not like you, Jake Seresin.”

He laughs lightly in response and says, “People don’t use contractions when they’re lying.”

And you don’t really know what to say to that. Because you don’t really know if there is anything to say. So you decide not to say anything to that, at all.

“You still owe me twenty five dollars for the Uber.”

“Twenty five—“ Jake sputters, “Twenty five American dollars? Where the hell did you have him take you? Downtown and back!? You live twelve minutes from the house!”

“I tipped well.”

Jake mutters something about tipping culture being out of control but you still feel the way your phone buzzes so hard it rattles some pens strewn across the table.

When the second invite comes, you decide preemptively that you’re not going to drink. Your deal with Jake was about attending and staying for two hours, it said absolutely nothing about drinking or generally partaking in party activities. You don’t want a repeat of last time–you want the arousal that spikes your bloodstream every time you see his face to disappear as quickly as it came.

You’re avoiding Jake in the frat house by ducking into doorways and keeping an eye out for a blonde head of hair the best you can. At one point, Bradley spots you and sends a confused look your way, clearly scanning for Jake. He doesn’t do anything about it, you guess, because Jake doesn’t come running within the next ten minutes.

Keeping yourself pressed to the wall where the music isn’t so loud but you also can’t hear the way people are very obviously doing drugs in the bathroom, you count down the minutes til you can leave.

About five minutes before, you decide to sneak a peek in the kitchen one last time. Maybe you can rob these assholes of some Oreos or something as divine punishment–revenge of the nerds, or whatever.

When you get to the kitchen, you realize you’ve found Jake. His back is to you, and he seems to be holding court. Surrounding him is a group of frat brothers most of whom you don’t remember, with the exception of Javy, who’s leaning his elbows on the countertop and listening about as intently as a drunk person can.

“She’s fucking stuck up man, I don’t know how you do it. I don’t think being that obnoxious is a requirement to be top of the class.” One of the frat brothers that usually surrounds Jake scoffs.

You feel all the blood drain from your face and you suddenly feel like being sick. Backing away from the doorway to the kitchen you almost trip over your feet at the speed you’re trying to get away from the conversation, from Jake, from the frat house.

There it is–there’s your out. Your ick, if you will. Jake, standing in his perfect kitchen, surrounded by a bunch of barely matured fraternity bros, talking shit about you. It’s not that the feelings of hatred weren’t technically mutual, but the extent to which you complain about Jake is usually limited to surface level shit.

If you had stuck around for just a moment longer, you would’ve heard the way that he defended you over a chorus of agreement from around him, “C’mon man, it’s not like that. Don’t say shit like that about her. She’s under a lot of pressure and you’re kind of a dick in class anyway.”

But you don’t stick around. Instead, you push your way through the mass of bodies, accidentally stumble through a smoke circle, and you still seem so far away from the exit. You pass by Bradley again, and this time he’s with the girl that he insists is just a friend, but they seem too cozy for that in the moment. You don’t stop to say hi.

When you finally get outside, your chest is heaving and you think you might be sick, alcohol aside.

This is exactly why you focus on academics. They gave back as good as they got, never betrayed you, never let their friends talk shit about you. Academics never called you “stuck up”, stopping short of biting out the insult “bitch”. God you’re so stupid.

You should’ve never let him get close, you should’ve stuck to the project and just finished it without ever learning more about Jake beyond the bare minimum. No evenings spent crowded around a countertop covered in textbooks and notes, Bradley humming in the background as he cooked something delicious. No letting Jake buy you coffee or cafeteria food.

This is exactly what you deserve for letting him in.

----------

tagging: @roosterbruiser @joaquinwhorres @sometimesanalice @seresinsweetie @bobfloyds @theharddeck @jupitercomet @dempy @gigisimsonmars @sunsetsimpsblog @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @kajjaka @clancycucumber230 @desert-fern @bibitches-r-us @cruelmissdior @chaoticassidy @blue-aconite

#top gun: maverick #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #jake 'hangman' seresin #top gun: maverick fanfic #top gun: maverick fanfiction #top gun: maverick fic #hangman x you #hangman x reader #no use of y/n #flight path universe

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 5 months

Text

Cooking Up Love, Chapter 14

Pairing: Chef!Matt Murdock x F!Journalist!Reader

Rating: T

Story Summary: Here

Warnings/Tags: Hallmark levels of fluffy, cheesy goodness (and speed that their relationship develops, lol), no use of Y/N, Matt is not a vigilante, idiots in love, revenge is sweet 😉

Word Count: ~3800

A/N: A heartfelt thanks to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged, and/or commented on this not-so-little self-indulgent Chef AU of mine -- like Chef Matt, I appreciate each and every one of you.

I would be remiss if I didn't give a special shout-out to the OG members of the Traumatized Irish Catholic Boys Discord server for the encouragement and cheerleading while I was writing this story -- @souliebird, @theradioactivespidergwen, @mattmurdocksscars, & @bellaxgiornata -- y'all are the reason Chef Matt even exists and for that I can't thank you enough.

While this may be the end of the main story, like every good (and some not-so-good, tbh) cheesy Hallmark rom-com, there's lots more to this tale! Chef Matt and Reader don't want to let me go, so I have more planned for them. Whether it winds up being several smaller one-shots or another multi-chapter thing remains to be seen, however, so stay tuned!

As always, thanks to @theradioactivespidergwen for the divider!

Tag List: @yarrystyleeza @hailey-murdock @mattkinsella @bellaxgiornata @danzer8705 @chezagnes @shouldbestudying41 @thepunisherfrankcastle @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @roseslovedreams

"Girl, you should have seen her," Skyler said as she filled you in over the phone on everything that had happened that morning at the Bulletin . "When she first walked into the office and saw all your stuff missing from your desk she got this smug-ass look on her face -- she was so sure you had either quit in embarrassment or had gotten fired over that article. God , was it satisfying to watch karma bite her in the ass."

You huffed out a laugh. "So then what happened?"

"Ellison had asked me to let him know when Kelsie had made it in, so I texted him and he immediately called her to his office,” Skyler continued. “She thought for sure that she was getting reassigned to Features so she made a big production of having 'no idea' as to what Ellison wanted then took her sweet time going to his office. Little did she know what was actually in store."

She chuckled. "She was fuming by the time she came marching out of there. First she tried denying the whole thing, then once Ellison showed her the proof we had gathered she accused you of trying to frame her, then she accused me of trying to frame her, then by the time she had packed her desk and was being escorted out of the building by security she had accused Ellison of trying to frame her and was threatening to sue the Bulletin for wrongful termination. I'm so glad you waited until after she had left for the weekend to move your stuff over to your new desk because the moment she realized that her little scheme hadn't worked and you had just moved to a bigger, better desk was priceless."

You sighed and shook your head. "Well, at least it's over and I can just move on with my life."

Skyler was quiet for a moment. "Still haven't heard from Matt?"

Your heart squeezed. You were still hurt and angry that he would believe that you would stoop so low as to pretend to get close to him in order to write a tell-all article full of false information simply to further your career as an investigative journalist, yet at the same time, you missed him. You missed the way he had waited with bated breath as you tried one of his culinary creations, as if your opinion was the only one that mattered to him. You missed the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at you. You missed the way his hands had felt on yours when he had taught you how to identify fresh fruit and vegetables, the soft caress of his fingers as he had traced your face so he could draw a mental picture of what you looked like, and the way his breath had fanned over your lips as he had leaned in to kiss you.

You sighed and shook your head. You had spent the past 3 days crying over him, so the best thing to do now was to give up and move on. "No, he hasn't tried contacting me. He probably deleted the follow-up email I sent him trying to explain everything the second he got it and blocked my email address."

Skyler hummed. "Mmm, I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Your brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Just that I don't want you to pass up the opportunity to be happy either."

Suddenly there was a knock on your door. "Oh, hold on, Sky, there's someone here."

"I'll let you go so you can get that."

You nodded. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"By the way, you're welcome."

"I'm welcome? For what?"

"Nothing, talk to you later, byeeeeee!"

Before you could say goodbye, Skyler hung up.

You shook your head with a fond smile as you went to answer the door. You were lucky to have a friend like her.

You opened it and sucked in a shocked breath at the sight of Matt standing outside of your apartment. “Matt?”

Matt smiled nervously at you. “Hi.”

You stood blinking at him for a few seconds. Finally you asked, “How do you know where I live?”

Matt bit his lip. “Oh, I um, I went by the Bulletin but you weren't there, so Skyler gave me your address. I know I probably should have called before just showing up at your home, but I really needed to speak to you and didn't think you'd answer my call, so may I, uh, may I come in?”

You hesitated a moment, then stepped out of the doorway. "Okay."

Matt walked in, then turned to face you as you closed the door behind him. "Thank you.”

You debated on whether or not to offer him a seat, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, you wrapped your arms protectively across your chest. “What do you want, Matt?"

Matt fidgeted with the container you had belatedly noticed he was carrying. "I owe you an apology for my actions on Friday. I should have known that something was off with that article and given you the benefit of the doubt instead of automatically assuming the worst and accusing you of using me in order to further your career. Not that I'm trying to make excuses for my behavior, but it wouldn't have been the first time that it had happened."

Your brow furrowed and you uncrossed your arms. "What do you mean?"

Matt took a deep breath. "A couple of years ago I met this woman named Elektra, who was a restaurant reviewer for a small online magazine. We started dating and she eventually asked me if I would be okay with sitting down for an interview with her. Naturally I said yes, but when the interview was published it turned out to be a scathing review of both my restaurant and me as a person. Elektra had taken my words and twisted them to make it seem like all I cared about was becoming famous and that I was using my visual impairment to try to get a network deal -- and not only that, but she also strongly insinuated that I hadn't actually earned the Michelin stars that Nelson and Murdock had received and that the food at my restaurant was subpar."

He shook his head. "The whole time we had been dating Elektra had been trying to get a job with a national publication and figured that an exposé on me would be her ticket in. Needless to say, we broke up after that but the damage had already been done. Her article had been picked up by The Hand , which absolutely tanked our reputation as a gourmet restaurant, forcing us to close Nelson and Murdock and nearly destroying my & Foggy's friendship.”

While you didn't know much about the culinary industry, you did know that The Hand was the premiere magazine for restaurant goers and their reviews were treated like gospel. “So that's why you don't trust journalists.”

Matt nodded. “After I found out that Elektra had used me I decided that I would never get involved with a journalist or do another interview again, but business has been struggling at Daredevil ever since we opened a few months ago so Foggy took it upon himself to schedule me for an interview with the Bulletin during Restaurant Week to try to drum up some business.”

He paused. “I was originally told that it would be with the writer for the food and restaurant section, so I hope you understand my… hesitancy at first.”

You huffed out a breath. “Yeah, it was supposed to have been Kelsie but she was actually out sick with food poisoning at the time, so it was reassigned to me. Oh, and by the way, it turns out that she wrote the exposé I accidentally sent you. She lured me away from my desk while I was in the middle of sending you my real article and swapped the attachment out in an attempt to sabotage me.”

Matt shook his head. "By the way, I did wind up reading your real article and I really appreciate all of the kind and wonderful things you said about me."

You shrugged. "I just wrote what I felt was the truth at the time."

"'At the time'?" Matt bit his lip. "Does that mean you don't still feel that it's the truth?"

You sighed. While you were still a bit hurt and upset that Matt could have thought so little of you, you could now understand the reasoning behind his thoughts.

You shook your head. “No, I do. I still believe everything I wrote.”

Matt huffed out a relieved breath. "Thank you. I um, I wanted to give you this.”

He held the container out towards you. “I promise it's not poisoned.”

You huffed out a laugh as you took it. “I believe you.”

“I also wanted to let you know that the butternut squash risotto, pesto pasta, cremé bruleé, and tiramisu will all be going on the menu at Daredevil next week.” Matt bit his lip. “I hope you'd still want to come by to get some.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

Matt smiled. “I'm glad. And actually, how about --”

"Foggy, Foggy, Foggy, Foggy…"

Matt groaned as his phone started ringing. "I'm sorry, I should get this. It might be an emergency with the restaurant."

You shook your head and went to put the container of what you assumed was tiramisu in the refrigerator. “It's fine. Go ahead.”

Matt tapped at his screen. "Yeah, Foggy. Wait, wait, slow down… What? They are? How? You're kidding… Wow, okay, yeah, thanks for letting me know. I gotta go though… Yeah, I am. Okay, I'll talk to you later. Thanks. Bye."

"Big news?" you asked as Matt hung up the phone.

Matt nodded. "Kingpin lost its license this morning due to multiple health code violations and has been permanently shut down, effective immediately."

You bit back a smile. "Really? Wow."

"Yeah, they failed a surprise inspection and --" Matt's brow furrowed. "Wait, you already knew. Did you have something to do with it?"

"Not directly." You grinned. "Skyler may have called the health department a couple of days ago and anonymously reported a case of food poisoning that originated there last week." You shrugged casually. "After all, Kelsie was dating the sous-chef and ate there right before she got sick. But how did Foggy find out so fast?"

"He and I have a friend at the health department -- Brett Mahoney. He keeps us apprised of goings-on -- not when we're going to be inspected, of course, but of shutdowns and such." Matt shook his head. "So wait, the food writer for the Bulletin is dating Wesley?"

You nodded. "Yeah, they've been together for a while, although I didn't know anything at all about ‘James’ except for his first name until Friday when Skyler did a deep dive into Kelsie's social media and found his profile.”

Matt shook his head. “I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that he and Fisk were also somehow involved in her plans. I have a sneaking suspicion that they had been driving potential customers away from Daredevil.”

“You're probably right. They had to have known that Kelsie had been planning on covering Kingpin for the Restaurant Week kickoff, but then she got sick right as Foggy contacted my boss with the offer of an exclusive interview with you and by the time she had recovered enough to come back to work, it was way too late to try to convince Ellison to switch the story back over to Kingpin.” You shook your head. “At first Kelsie tried to fill my head with doubt about you, saying that you would do anything to try to salvage your reputation and that you were pretending to be interested in me while I was writing my article and would ditch me the second it was published.”

Matt shook his head, a slight smirk spreading across his lips. “Oh I can assure you, sweetheart, my interest in you is very sincere. Apologies if I didn't make that clear before.”

Your breath hitched at the term of endearment. The whole time Matt really had been flirting with you.

“I've never felt so comfortable with someone so quickly before,” Matt continued, “and have genuinely enjoyed getting to know and spending time with you this past week -- going to the farmer's market together and being able to make breakfast for you at the restaurant, having you come with me to the soup kitchen and Fogwell's then over to my place for dinner, getting your honest reactions during the blind tasting, finally knowing that you were just as beautiful as I had thought…”

A small smile crossed his face. “I'd really like to keep getting to know you, if you're interested.”

Your heart fluttered. “Yeah… yeah, I'm definitely interested.”

Matt grinned. “Then how about dinner tonight? My place, 7 o’clock?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

“Great then. It's a date.”

You smiled. “It's a date.”

Matt shook his head. “You know, now that I'm thinking about it, Kelsie must've been the person I spoke to when I went by the Bulletin on Tuesday.”

Your brows raised in surprise. “You went by the Bulletin?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, I had wanted to talk to you about the blind tasting Monday night -- well, actually, what happened after -- but you weren't there and the woman I spoke to said that you were out on assignment and working on a big scoop, and she also said something else about you being one of ‘those investigative types’ who were always looking for a good exposé even if you had to make it up.”

You shook your head. No wonder he thought I had written that article. “Yeah, that was Kelsie, all right. I actually had gone home early that day -- I didn't sleep well Monday night because I thought for sure you were mad at me for rushing out of Daredevil on you.”

Matt shook his head. “Actually it was the opposite. I thought my advances had been unwanted and that I had made you uncomfortable, so I went by to check on you and apologize.”

“No, your advances were definitely wanted, I just…” You sighed. “When Foggy walked in and interrupted us I panicked and began overthinking everything.”

You shook your head. “I guess when Kelsie wasn't sure if planting seeds of doubt between us was working fast enough she decided that straight-up sabotage was the best way to go and wrote that fake exposé since it would hurt both me and you professionally rather than just personally. Luckily I caught it before it went to press and was able to swap it out with my real article, so now that I think about it, it's probably actually a good thing that you went off on me because otherwise I probably wouldn't have known until it was too late."

Matt winced and shook his head. "No, I should've realized that you probably hadn't written that article and calmly asked you about it instead of being an asshole to you, I --"

You shook your head. "It's okay. I forgive you -- this time. But don't think you can just make apology tiramisu for me every time you screw up, no matter how delicious it is."

"Of course not." Matt bit back a grin. "There's also apology cremé bruleé, and apology crepes, and apology --"

You swatted at his chest playfully. " Matt --"

You let out a soft gasp as Matt caught your wrist and pulled you to him, your heart thumping erratically in your chest.

Matt reached up and caressed your jawline with his thumb. "You know, I don't know if I can wait until our date tonight to be able to finally kiss you.”

You shook your head. "I don't think I can wait until tonight either."

A bright grin bloomed on Matt's face. “Well then, I guess there's only one thing to do.”

You melted into him as his warm lips pressed against yours.

You'd had no idea what you'd been in for when you'd first gotten your assignment, but you'd definitely hadn't known just how much it was going to change your life for the better.

One Year Later

“Matt, honey? You in here?”

Matt turned towards your voice as you walked into the kitchen at Daredevil. “Hi, sweetheart.”

You huffed out a light laugh. “I should've known. You're supposed to be out in the dining area celebrating, Matthew, not at work in the kitchen decorating pies.”

Matt set the piping bag he had been holding down, feeling slightly guilty despite your playful tone. "I just needed to pipe the whipped cream onto these before they went out."

You walked up to him and took his hand. "The kitchen staff has it handled, love. Come on, everyone's waiting."

Matt followed you out to the dining area.

"Hey, there they are!" Foggy said, handing Matt and you each a glass of champagne. "The couple of the hour!"

Matt shook his head. "This is just as much of a celebration for you as it is for me, my friend."

"Ah, yeah, but you have a bit more to celebrate than I do, don't you, buddy?"

Matt grinned. "It has been quite the week, hasn't it?"

Foggy huffed out a laugh. "That's an understatement. I think we need a speech!"

"Yeah, speech!" Karen added. "Everyone, may I have your attention? Matt would like to say a few words."

You gave Matt's hand a gentle squeeze. "You've got this, sweetheart."

Matt nodded and cleared his throat. "First off, I would like to thank everyone for being here tonight. To our vendors -- thank you all for your patience with us as we got things up and running. I know I can also speak for Foggy when I say that you're not just our vendors -- you're our friends as well."

He turned to Foggy and Karen. "Foggy, you are the best sous chef and the best friend I could ever ask for. We wouldn't be here celebrating our first Michelin star for Daredevil nor our James Beard nominations if it hadn't been for you sticking by my side. Karen, same goes for you. Foggy and I are happy to welcome you as an official partner."

Next, he turned to you and took your left hand. "Next, I'd like to extend my heartfelt appreciation to my beautiful fianceé."

He paused for a moment, his thumb caressing the diamond ring he had placed on your finger during a surprise dinner date the night before. "I am so grateful that you wound up being assigned to interview me for the Bulletin."

"You're welcome!" Ellison called out from the crowd.

Laughter rang out from throughout the room.

Matt turned towards Ellison's voice. "Yes, extra thanks to you, Mitch."

A framed copy of your article hung proudly in the lobby next to a photo of Matt, Foggy, and Karen outside of Daredevil the day they had opened. After it had run, business had picked up almost immediately, with the restaurant being constantly packed and reservations being booked months in advance. He, Foggy, and Karen had had to hire both extra servers and kitchen staff to help keep up with demand and had recently signed a contract to expand the restaurant into the empty business space next door.

Matt smiled and gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he turned back towards you. "I'm also grateful that you were willing to give me a second chance after I was an asshole to you during our initial meeting, and a third chance once I had screwed up yet again.”

He nodded towards Skyler, who stood next to Foggy. “And Skyler, thanks for your help with that. ”

Skyler chuckled warmly. “You're welcome.”

Matt had been cautiously optimistic when he had gone to the Bulletin to apologize for (wrongfully) accusing you of writing the fake exposé that you had unintentionally sent him, only to find that you weren't even there.

“Where is she?” Matt asked Skyler, recognizing her voice as the person he had initially spoken to the first time he had gone to the Bulletin to apologize to you. “Will she be back in today?”

He could feel her studying him. “No, she took a personal day,” she replied. “She needed it after everything that's happened over the past few days. You really hurt her, you know that?”

Matt‘s shoulders slumped dejectedly. He nodded. “I know. I was hoping to be able to apologize in person and explain myself.”

Skyler was quiet for a moment, then gave him an address. “Hers is apartment 3-B.”

A broad smile spread across Matt's face. If Skyler was willing to give him your home address there was at least a chance that you'd forgive him. “Thank you so much… Skyler, right?”

“Mmhmm. You’re welcome. Just don't make me regret it.”

Matt shook his head. “I won't, I promise.”

He had hurried to your apartment, where luckily for him, you had not only accepted his apology and forgiven him, but had also told him that you reciprocated his feelings and agreed to a date, and then the two of you had kissed for the first (but certainly not the last) time.

He cleared his throat and focused his attention back on you. “I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. And congratulations once again on becoming the newest Assistant Editor of the New York Bulletin -- I'm so proud of you.”

He turned back towards the crowd. “And finally, to everyone here tonight -- Each and every one of you have contributed to Daredevil’s success and we can't thank you enough. I'd like you to know just how much each and every one of you are appreciated.”

He raised his glass of champagne. “So eat, drink, and enjoy. Cheers!”

“Cheers!” rang out throughout the room.

Matt pressed a kiss to your forehead as everyone toasted to the restaurant's success. “Love you.”

You hummed happily. “Love you too.”

As Matt continued to celebrate with Foggy, Karen, and you and the rest of their guests, he couldn't help but be filled with a sense of rightness. Daredevil was thriving beyond his wildest dreams, he was engaged to the woman he loved, and as an extra dose of karma, Fisk had recently been indicted on charges of tax fraud, racketeering, and money laundering uncovered as a result of the surprise health inspection closure.

Had you told him a year and a half ago that this would be his life, he'd have never believed it.

Now, however…

Well, he couldn't wait to see what life cooked up for him next.

#lotmf writes #Cooking Up Love Masterlist #Chef!Matt Murdock x Reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader

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kingofbodyrolls · 5 days

Text

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | fourteen

🐴Chapter summary: After breaking up with Jimin, you realize how much you love him, and that maybe that love should be enough to carry you through your new life— being a parent, for someone else’s child.

🐴Chapter title: I Wish the Past was Different

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au + smut, humor, fluff, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: angst (is this really a surprise?), mention of pregnancy (not oc!!!), a riding accident, a lot of thinking and overthinking, sadness and angst, jealousy, working through feelings.

🐴Status: ongoing (to be completed on 2nd May 2024)

🐴Word count: 10.5k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Time Turn Over” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: OC is being very Bella Swan in this chapter, I’m sorry again 😭 BUT!!! The angst goes away in this chapter too, because I just wouldn’t do it (I’m tired of the angst, lol). Because of said angst, it was tough for me to write and I actually ended up asking my husband for advice because I was stuck, not meeting my own word length deadline and because I just felt stuck in general 🥲 But alas, he gave me a good idea, and I went with that! There is very minimal angst going forward from this chapter, like it’s so minor compared to all the rest, so I hope you’ll enjoy mostly unicorns and rainbows after this chapter ☀️

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“And oh, I wish the past was different And oh, I wish it wasn’t so But in the end, because I’m here now In the end, I think you know I can’t say it and you can’t feel it but I can not let it go And oh, I wish the past was different And oh, I wish it wasn’t so” ‘I Wish the Past Was Different’ by Rebecca Lavelle

You’ve thrown yourself into your work with the wild horses, seeking solace in their untamed spirits. Yet, the bittersweet reality of having to work at Jimin’s place constantly tugs at your heartstrings. Each encounter with him reignites the longing to be wrapped in his arms, to find solace in his embrace, and to believe in a future together. But then you catch sight of Deiji, and the floodgates of jealousy and insecurity and self doubt burst open once more, drowning you in feelings of inadequacy and unpreparedness for the daunting prospect of motherhood, especially when it's someone else's child at the center of it all.

Why does life have to twist and turn in such cruel ways? The weight of this pain is crushing, dragging you down with each passing moment, threatening to shatter you into irreparable fragments.

You find yourself yearning for an alternate reality where Jimin never crossed paths with Deiji, where their relationship was just a figment of imagination rather than a painful reality. The ache in your chest resonates with the desire to assign blame, to point fingers at anything but your own heart for walking away. It’s easier to lay fault at the feet of Deiji and Jimin than to confront the agonizing truth of your own decision to part ways.

You scuff, a tempest of anger and sorrow swirling within you, each emotion battling for dominance, leaving your stomach tied in knots. Amidst this tumult, focusing on the wild horses becomes a difficult task, prompting Hoseok to step in and assist Yoongi more frequently while you remain perched atop the fence, a silent observer of the scene below.

The love between the two men is palpable, their synergy evident as they collaborate seamlessly. Yet, as you observe them coaxing a once-wild gray horse into submission, a bittersweet symphony plays in your heart. Their laughter, like tinkling bells, fills the air, but with each shared chuckle, a pang of longing grips your soul. You can’t help but notice the gentle caress of Hoseok's hand on Yoongi’s arm, the way their eyes meet with an unspoken understanding, and their voices, light and airy, carrying the melody of their affection.

Their effortless relationship is both heartwarming and gut-wrenching to witness. You adore them both and revel in their happiness, yet a pang of envy lingers as you yearn for a similar bliss with Jimin. The prospect of parenthood looms over you like a daunting storm cloud, and you're lost in a tempest of uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the tumultuous waters ahead.

Hoseok’s hands caress the sleek coat of the gray horse, his touch a delicate dance of reassurance and patience. The majestic creature stands serene under his guidance, a testament to their bond of trust and understanding.

Yoongi pivots, his keen eyes catching the shadow of sorrow that’s cloaked you for days, casting a solemn hue over your features.

He strides over, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of your storm. Perching beside you on the fence, he offers a reassuring pat on your shoulder. “It’s going to be alright,” he assures, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

You highly doubt it. You replay the choices in your mind like a broken record, each decision leading you to this moment of heartache. You could have chosen to stay with Jimin, to endure the pain silently, but the weight of it all felt unbearable. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil within.

You turn your gaze towards Yoongi, the question burning on your lips, a mixture of curiosity and longing swirling in your chest. Despite knowing you shouldn't pry, your heart yearns for a glimpse into Jimin’s world. “How’s Jimin holding up?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a fragile hope, betraying the emotions you've been grappling with.

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, a silent plea evident in their depths, urging you to reconsider your question. His expression carries a weight of concern, as if he’s shielding you from the painful truth that might follow.

As the silence lingers, you press further, your voice a whisper weighted with apprehension. “Is he... back with Deiji?” The words hang heavy in the air, fraught with a mix of dread and longing for a truth you're not sure you're ready to confront.

Yoongi’s features contort into a mask of sorrow, his gaze drifting downward to the grains of sand within the pen, as if seeking solace in the mundane. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself with questions like this,” he murmurs, his tone heavy with empathy and resignation. “But no, Jimin is still very single.”

The revelation doesn’t exactly lift the weight from your heart, though it's a relief knowing he’s not rushing back into Deiji’s embrace. Still, a melancholic ache persists, knowing that things have unfolded this way.

Yoongi’s words land like a gentle breeze, stirring a mix of emotions within you. “You know,” he confides, his tone carrying a thread of hope. “Jimin misses you a lot. He talks about you everyday. He wishes that you’ll change your mind and come back home.” As his gaze meets your weary eyes, a glimmer of optimism dances in his own.

Tears have become an unwelcome companion, tracing silent rivers down your cheeks, staining your pillow with the remnants of your sorrow. Night after night, you find solace in the lullaby of tears, until even your sister’s concern casts a shadow upon your weary soul. Your eyes, once bright with laughter, now betray the weight of your heartache, swollen and heavy with the burden of your grief. Yet, in the face of it all, you couldn’t summon the energy to care.

You draw in a shuddering breath, grappling with the tempest of emotions swirling within you. “I miss him too,” you admit, your voice quivering with raw honesty. “But I can’t bear the thought of being in a relationship with him, not with his child on the way with another woman.”

You release a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of exhaustion and emotional turmoil. Every task seems monumental, even the simplest ones, and just coaxing yourself out of bed feels like an uphill battle. A tear teeters on the edge of your waterline, a silent testament to the inner turmoil gnawing at your soul. Desperate to divert your thoughts from Jimin's memory, you draw in a deep breath and pivot the conversation. “You and Hoseok seem really happy,” you remark, attempting to steer the dialogue towards a lighter topic.

A gentle chuckle ripples from Yoongi’s lips beside you, a soothing sound amidst the heaviness of your emotions. He senses your need for a reprieve and graciously allows the shift in conversation. “Was that a question or a statement?” he quips, his laughter like a beacon guiding you away from the shadows of sadness, urging your weary spirit back towards the light.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, a brief respite from the weight of your thoughts. “Definitely a statement,” you reply with a hint of self-awareness, the sound of your laughter mingling with the breeze, carrying a fleeting moment of lightness through the heavy air.

“We are happy,” Yoongi affirms, a genuine smile spreading across his face, revealing the warmth in his eyes. Together, you observe Hoseok’s movements with the gray horse below, the sight of him successfully saddling the animal a testament to his skill and patience.

“That’s great. I’m so happy for you, Yoongi,” you express, mustering a smile, though it lacks the usual sparkle that once defined it.

“Thank you. But I can see it’s tough for you,” he starts, his gaze probing yours, seeking something elusive, something you're not quite sure of.

You brush off his concern with a casual flick of your hand. “I put myself in this situation,” you say, the weight of your words heavier than you intended.

You slump further against the fence, sinking into the sanctuary of your own fragile thoughts.

Hoseok remains focused on the horse, his movements fluid and purposeful, while Yoongi stands steadfast beside you, his arm enveloping you in a comforting embrace, a reassuring anchor amidst the tumult of your thoughts.

“Thank you Yoongi,” You express your gratitude to Yoongi with a heartfelt whisper, leaning into his comforting presence. His embrace is a sanctuary, enveloping you in warmth and the refreshing scent of mint, a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

“What for?” With a soft chuckle, Yoongi queries, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.

“For always being there for me,” You utter, your voice laced with profound gratitude. The weight of your words hangs in the air, a testament to the depth of your appreciation for his unwavering friendship.

The relentless sun beats down upon you as you toil alongside Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin, laboring to scrub clean the water trough for the cattle in a distant paddock. Beads of sweat form rivulets on your brow, and you futilely attempt to brush them away with the hem of your shirt, but the relentless heat refuses to relent.

The scorching heat bears down upon you relentlessly as you vigorously scrub away at the trough, determined to rid it of its slimy residue, accumulated grime, and encrusted grease. Each stroke of the brush is a testament to your commitment, knowing full well the vital importance of this cleaning ritual to ensure the cattle’s access to pristine water during their time in the paddock.

“Don’t you think it’s time to move on?” Ara’s words pierce through the haze of your thoughts, jolting you out of the cocoon of self-pity you’ve wrapped yourself in.

Beside you, Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange startled gasps, their synchronized reaction prompting you to arch an eyebrow in curiosity, silently urging Ara to continue.

“That’s so inconsiderate of you to say, Ara!” Soo-ah’s reprimand cuts through the air, her words laced with a protective edge, while Ha-rin’s support echoes her sentiment, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“What? But she seems so miserable, Jimin too, why don’t you just work it out?” Ara’s voice carries genuine concern, wrapped in a gentle tone, yet it strikes a nerve within you. You sense her good intentions, but the thought of rehashing your struggles yet again feels draining. With a heavy exhale, you opt for silence, allowing your frustration to seep out in a weary sigh.

“Don’t you think she would work it out with him, if she wanted to?” Ha-rin’s words cut through the humid air, laced with a hint of frustration as she vigorously scrubs the steel trough. It’s a valid question, one that resonates with the unspoken doubts lingering in your mind. You ponder her inquiry, the rhythmic sound of metal against metal providing a backdrop to your internal turmoil.

It’s a surreal sensation, like eavesdropping on a conversation about your own life from a distance. Their words hang heavy in the air, echoing the unspoken complexities of your situation. You stand there, a silent observer to your own narrative, grappling with the strange disconnect between your presence and their discussion.

Ara’s voice rises, her words infused with a desperate plea for understanding. But like, last time they didn’t talk for months and it was just a stupid misunderstanding,” she insists, her eyes searching for empathy among her companions.

Soo-ah interjects with a firm tone, “Do you even comprehend the sheer effort it takes to raise a child?” she questions, her gaze piercing. “If she’s not prepared for that responsibility, then she’s simply not ready.”

It feels funny, how they are talking about you and Jimin, you might as well say something.

The scrubbing of the trough halts abruptly as you pivot towards Ara, your expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “It’s not that we aren’t talking,” you begin, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. “We still communicate, but it’s the sight of Deiji that stings the most. Knowing they’re expecting a child together... it’s hard not to feel consumed by jealousy,” you confess, the words heavy with raw honesty.

Ara’s eyes soften with understanding, her nod a silent acknowledgment of the tumult of emotions you're navigating. “It sounds like you want a child of your own, with Jimin,” she ventures, her words carrying a gentle empathy that resonates with your innermost desires and fears.

Ha-rin’s reaction is a blend of admonishment and hushing as she playfully nudges Ara’s arm, silently urging her to tread carefully while also chiding her for broaching a sensitive topic.

“I’m not entirely certain about having children,” you start, your words measured and tinged with uncertainty, “but raising someone else’s child is certainly not what I imagined or wanted to do.”

Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange understanding nods. “Do you think you might change your mind later?” Ha-rin inquires gently, her voice carrying a tone of empathy as she continues with her task.

You pause, mulling over her question for a moment, before responding thoughtfully, “I’m not entirely sure... perhaps. It’s just... I can’t quite envision how it would all come together, you know?”

“I just... when I envision Jimin embracing fatherhood, cherishing that little girl of his soon entering the world, it’s her child, not mine,” you sigh in frustration, yet oddly finding a glimmer of relief in the honesty of your words.

“So you’re jealous that it’s not going to be your child?” Ara teases beside you, prompting a scolding glare from Soo-ah.

“You just said you didn’t want kids, but now you say you do... make up your mind,” Ara adds, rolling her eyes in a playful yet challenging manner.

“She doesn’t want Deiji’s kid, can’t you get that?” Soo-ah says, coming to your defense once more, her voice firm with conviction.

“Guys! I’m just not sure I want kids, period. Why can’t I be undecided on this?” Your words hang heavy in the air, a plea for understanding, as you return to the task of scrubbing the trough with a vigor that betrays your inner turmoil.

“Yeah. Let’s not badger her, okay?” Ha-rin’s voice cuts through the tension like a soothing balm, her gentle plea for empathy echoing your own sentiments. You catch her soft gaze, a silent acknowledgment of her understanding, offering a momentary respite from the probing questions.

“But can I say something?” Her demeanor shifts with a mix of hesitance and determination, her gaze seeking reassurance before she speaks. You offer a nod, granting her the space to voice her thoughts, curious about what might follow.

“You still love Jimin and he still loves you— don’t you think you could focus on that, and just like, not focus on the kid?” Her words hang in the air, a delicate plea woven with threads of hope and uncertainty. You feel a pang of longing as she speaks, her sincerity piercing through the heaviness of the situation. Despite the weight of her suggestion, you can't help but consider the possibility buried within her question.

As her words sink in, you find yourself grappling with a newfound perspective. The idea of focusing on your enduring love for Jimin rather than fixating on the looming presence of a child is both liberating and daunting. It’s a notion you’ve never entertained before, a ray of light piercing through the clouds of uncertainty that have engulfed you. Could it be that the solution to your turmoil lies in embracing the love that binds you, rather than allowing fear to drive you apart?

Each stroke of the brush across the canvas feels like a dance, a rhythmic movement driven by the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through your mind. Jimin’s presence looms large in your thoughts, refusing to be ignored or pushed aside. Ha-rin’s words echo in your ears, a gentle reminder to reconsider your perspective. As you ponder the notion of shifting your focus away from Jimin’s impending fatherhood, you can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker within you. Could it be that amidst the chaos of uncertainty, there lies a path illuminated by the enduring flame of love?

You remain ensnared in the labyrinth of uncertainty, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the intricacies of your relationship. The truth is a bitter pill to swallow: Jimin’s impending fatherhood would inevitably redefine the contours of your relationship, demanding a portion of his time and attention that you would never begrudge. Yet, amidst the tangle of doubts and fears, a flicker of understanding begins to dawn. Perhaps, in the vast expanse of love, there exists room for compromise, for navigating the labyrinth together, hand in hand.

The question lingers in the depths of your soul, a haunting refrain echoing through the corridors of your mind: are you truly prepared for it all?

Ready to become someone’s mother. Step mother?

Ready to raise a child?

Yet, can you truly provide a nurturing environment for a child if one of the adults harbors resentment towards their presence?

You understand it’s not the child’s fault, but the mere thought of it being Deiji’s offspring churns your stomach. You harbor an intense dislike for her, and a nagging suspicion still lingers, whispering that she’s up to something.

You’ve never laid eyes on any proof of the paternity test, and the unsettling thought lingers: did Jimin even ask to see it? Perhaps it's time to broach that topic with him.

As you reminisce about the warmth and intimacy you once shared with Jimin, a wave of melancholy washes over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of longing. Doubts creep in, questioning the wisdom of your choices. Should you have held onto what you had with him, despite the challenges?

The canvas before you mirrors the tumult within, a chaotic blend of muddy hues—gray, brown, beige, and dark blue—an unexpected abstraction of your inner turmoil. It’s a reflection of your tangled thoughts, much like the surprise abstract painting that has emerged from your brush. Yet, beneath the layers of color, a longing persists. You ache to create something different, something infused with the joy of yesteryears—perhaps the serene landscapes that once graced your canvas. Yet, as you realize nearly a year has passed since your return to the ranch, a flood of memories rushes in, dominated by thoughts of Jimin.

Oh, how you wish things were different.

On an unassuming day, bathed in sunlight, you find yourself quietly eating breakfast in the kitchen, lost in your own solemn musings. Suddenly, the tranquility is shattered as Jungkook steps into the room, jolting you out of your reverie.

You’re acutely aware that since parting ways with Jimin, you’ve been teetering on the brink of depression. It was a painful but necessary decision to safeguard your shattered heart. Yet, despite your efforts to protect yourself, you’re haunted by the gnawing realization that no matter what path you choose, your heart remains irreparably broken.

“Hey,” he greets you with a warm smile, but as you return the gesture, your own smile falls short of matching his infectious happiness. Your gaze lingers on him, curiosity piqued as you notice something clutched in his hand. Why is he carrying a letter?

“How are you doing?” he inquires, and you respond with a bitter chuckle. Can’t he see how you’re doing? You’re well aware of your appearance, having been reminded by your sister that you look like a mess. The truth is, you’re consumed by a constant sadness, and you’ve exhausted all your energy trying to conceal it.

“I feel like shit,” you admit, opting for raw honesty because pretending otherwise seems futile. Jungkook knows you well, understands the depth of your pain stemming from the breakup with his brother.

He offers you a reassuring smile, closing the distance between you as he gently places the white envelope on the table. Your eyes drift down to it, and you immediately recognize your name scrawled across it in familiar handwriting—it’s Jimin’s.

“This is from my brother,” he murmurs, his nerves palpable as he scratches the back of his head, causing you to shift your gaze between him and the letter, your mind racing with anticipation. What could possibly be contained within? Will it offer solace or inflict further pain? The uncertainty grips you tightly, leaving you on edge.

“Can’t he speak for himself?” You question, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice as your fingers hover over the letter, finally grasping it to inspect its contents.

“He’s torn about whether to give you space or not,” Jungkook confides, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “And he has no idea that I snatched the letter.”

Your eyes widen as you fix your gaze on him. “Are you sure I should read this then?” You inquire, a hint of apprehension creeping into your voice. “Maybe Jimin doesn’t want me to read it.”

Jungkook offers you a gentle smile. “It’s fine,” he reassures, his tone laced with determination. “If he gets mad, it’s on me. But you need to read it. I’m tired of seeing you both suffer like this.”

With those words, he leaves you to grapple with your thoughts and the letter, its edges slightly crumpled, a testament to the turmoil it contains. Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind weighed down by a heavy burden, and your eyes dry from the countless tears shed. You resolve to open the letter, sliding it out slowly; its handwritten contents are adorned with dried tears, each smudge a poignant reminder of the emotions woven into every word. Even before you begin to read, a lump forms in your throat, and your vision blurs with the tears welling up in your eyes.

Despite your trembling hands and the overwhelming emotions coursing through you, you summon every ounce of courage within you. With a determined resolve, you steady your gaze and immerse yourself in every heart-wrenching word penned by Jimin in his letter.

My love,

You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you more than words can express, and the ache of missing you is a constant companion. I’m deeply sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. No apology could ever capture the depth of my remorse for hurting you repeatedly. My heart weighs heavy with regret, and I want you to know how truly sorry I am. I wish I could undo the hurt I’ve caused. I understand that you may not be ready for motherhood, and I would never want to pressure you into anything. But I hold onto hope that we can find our way back to each other. I love you endlessly, and the thought of being apart is unbearable. I know I don’t deserve your kindness and forgiveness, but please, consider giving me another chance. You are my everything, and I long for us to be reunited.

With all my love and remorse,

Jimin

As your tears mingle with Jimin’s on the page, your heart aches with a poignant mix of love and pain. Despite the hurt he’s caused, your love for him remains unwavering, yet it’s accompanied by the uncertainty of whether you’re prepared for motherhood. However, amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope ignites within you—perhaps, just perhaps, you can find the strength to be ready for that journey with him.

You sense the weight of your thoughts pressing down, suffocating you. There’s an urgency to clear your mind, to escape the labyrinth of your own making. And you know precisely what remedy awaits: a ride. Out onto the sprawling expanse of land surrounding your ranch, where the wind whispers secrets and the horizon stretches endlessly. It’s your sanctuary, your refuge from the turmoil within—a chance to lose yourself in the rhythm of hoofbeats and the vastness of the world beyond.

Typically, when you saddle up, the chaos in your mind settles, and you allow yourself to sink into the serenity of the natural world, letting the rhythm of hoofbeats replace the cacophony of thoughts.

That’s why you find yourself in the barn, carefully saddling Mikrokosmos, feeling the familiar weight of the leather in your hands, the comforting scent of hay and wood surrounding you. With each buckle tightened and each strap secured, a sense of anticipation builds within you. Leading Mikrokosmos out of the barn, you’re eager to immerse yourself in the healing embrace of nature, seeking solace in the rhythmic cadence of hoofbeats and the whispering winds.

With a steady breath, you slide your foot into the stirrup, feeling the familiar weight of your body settling into the saddle. As you swing your leg over, a surge of anticipation courses through you, mingling with the raw energy emanating from Mikrokosmos. With a gentle nudge of your heels, you coax her into motion, feeling the power of her muscles ripple beneath you as she eagerly responds to your command, propelling both of you forward into the boundless expanse of the open land.

With each rhythmic beat of Mikrokosmos’ hooves against the earth, you surrender to the wild abandon of the ride, seeking solace in the untamed beauty of the landscape unfurling before you. Away from the suffocating grip of memories and uncertainties, you allow the wind to carry away the weight of your burdens, embracing the freedom of the open horizon as you ride further into the unknown.

As the wind weaves through your hair, its gentle touch whispers a symphony of freedom, entwining with the rhythmic melody of Mikrokosmos’ hooves tearing through the earth. With each stride, she paints the landscape with her fervent dance, sending plumes of dust swirling into the air. In the harmony of nature’s cadence, your spirit soars, liberated from the weight of doubt and longing. Each thunderous beat of her hooves resonates with the pounding rhythm of your heart.

Surrendering to the rush of wind and the pounding of hooves, you relinquish the burdens that have tethered your soul, allowing them to scatter like leaves in the breeze, if only for a fleeting moment.

As the sky transforms from serene blue to ominous gray, then to the cloak of night pierced by flashes of lightning, you sense the electricity in the air mirrored by Mikrokosmos’ subtle twitch, a silent acknowledgment of nature’s impending fury.

As the thunderclouds gather with ominous intent, you’re acutely aware of the danger of being caught in the open during a storm. Lost in the vast expanse, you realize with a sinking feeling that you’ve ventured too far to return before the tempest strikes. Yet, the urgency to seek shelter pushes you onward, driven by the instinct to find safety amidst the approaching chaos.

Amidst the dense foliage, you urgently guide Mikrokosmos, a steadfast companion in the tumultuous terrain. Suddenly, a deafening rumble ruptures the air, and the heavens ignite with a blinding flash. Your loyal steed startles, veering sharply as a nearby tree becomes a target for the furious lightning. With lightning’s crackle still echoing, Mikrokosmos rears in panic, jolting you from the saddle. You plummet to the earth, pain searing through your body upon impact, a harsh reminder of nature's unforgiving power. Fuck it hurts.

Mikrokosmos, wide-eyed and trembling, lingers by your side, almost like she wants to make sure you’re okay. You extend a trembling hand in reassurance, craving the solace of her presence, but as another deafening thunderclap reverberates through the sky, she recoils in terror. With a swift and panicked motion, she breaks away, vanishing into the wilderness, leaving you alone amidst the storm’s fury.

“Mikrokosmos, come back!” Your voice echoes through the wilderness, a desperate plea swallowed by the roaring tempest. With each strained syllable, you feel the weight of your fear and frustration, your heart racing in sync with her retreating hoofbeats. As you struggle to rise, the sting of pain ignites along your spine, a harsh reminder of your vulnerability amidst nature's fury. Damn it - you should have prepared her for moments like these, should have been more vigilant in her training with sudden loud noises. Now, your failure looms large, a bitter taste of remorse in the storm's relentless assault.

As the rain pours down in relentless sheets and the sky is intermittently illuminated by flashes of lightning, she finds herself lost in worry. Hours have slipped by since her sister embarked on her ride, and with each passing minute, concern gnaws at her like a persistent ache. In the midst of such tumultuous weather, her sister should have returned by now.

Where could she be? What if something has gone wrong out there in the storm’s fury?

Anxious tendrils grip her as she leans in closer to Jungkook, her voice trembling with concern. “Kook, I’m really worried about my sister. She should have been back by now,” she confides, her words laced with a sense of urgency. Jungkook’s eyes widen in alarm, his grip tightening on the beer bottle as he absorbs her distress.

As she gazes out the window, her heart lurches at the sight of a panicked Mikrokosmos darting around the yard. “Mikrokosmos is running wild out there, but still no sign of my sister. This can’t be good,” she murmurs, urgency coloring her voice as she hastily slips into her boots and jacket. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Jungkook is right by her side, his expression mirroring her concern as they prepare to investigate.

Jessi manages to soothe Mikrokosmos, her fingers gently curling around the reins. “Easy, girl,” she murmurs, her voice a soft reassurance in the midst of the storm.

She strokes Mikrokosmos’ mane, her touch a comforting anchor in the chaos of the storm. “Easy, girl,” she whispers, her voice a soothing melody amidst the thunderous symphony. “Steady, now,” she repeats, her words a gentle plea for calmness.

She whirls around to face Jungkook, urgency etched across her features. “This isn’t good. Where’s my sister?” Her voice quivers with worry, each word punctuated by the pounding rain outside, echoing the frantic beat of her heart.

Jungkook pivots, his eyes widening at the sight of Soo-ah hurtling from her cottage. “What’s Mikrokosmos doing here alone?” His voice is laced with concern, mirroring the panic in Soo-ah’s expression.

Jessi relinquishes the reins to Soo-ah, her voice trembling with worry. “I think something has happened to my sister, otherwise Mikrokosmos wouldn’t be here alone. Can you please take her into the stables, calm her down, and we’ll search for my sister?”

Soo-ah seizes the reins with determination and offers Jessi a firm nod, leading Mikrokosmos over to the stables. Jessi’s expression is etched with concern as she turns to Jungkook, her brow furrowed in deep distress.

“Let’s go look for her, she shouldn’t be out in this weather,” With urgency etched in his voice, he clasps her hand firmly, a silent promise of support. Together, they hustle to his truck, determination fueling their actions as they race back to Bell Ranch, intent on rallying more help to find you.

They dash through the rain-drenched yard, urgency in each step as they burst into the house where Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge in front of the TV, oblivious to the mounting concern etched on Jungkook and Jessi’s faces.

Urgency floods Jungkook’s voice as he interrupts their tranquility. “Guys, Jess’ sister is missing. We need your help to find her,” he implores, his words slicing through the calm of the room like a thunderbolt.

Jimin’s muscles tense, his expression darkening with concern as his heart quickens its pace. Yoongi springs from the couch with such urgency that he should feel lightheaded. In a synchronized rush, the trio leaps into action, snatching up their boots and jackets.

The weather outside is relentless, the midday darkness accentuated by the unyielding rain and gray skies, enveloping everything in a shroud of cold, damp chill.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his hand already reaching for the keys to his truck. “Should we split into groups of two or three?” he suggests, urgency lacing his words like a silent plea for swift action.

Jessi’s voice holds authority, her words cutting through the air like a command. “I think two are fine,” she concedes, her tone firm and resolute. “But you’re not driving.” Her finger jabs towards Jimin, swiftly snatching the keys from his grasp and passing them to Yoongi with an unyielding resolve.

Jimin’s expression shifts from disbelief to begrudging acceptance as he grapples with Jessi’s unexpected assertion. Despite his initial astonishment, a flicker of understanding ignites within him, and he obediently trails after his brother and Jessi, braving the torrential rain outside.

Yoongi and Hoseok climb into Jimin’s trusty blue truck, equipped with a walkie-talkie in hand, their fingers poised to establish a connection with Jungkook, Jimin, and Jessi in the other vehicle. As they settle in, the anticipation in the air is palpable, their shared determination driving them forward into the unknown.

Yoongi’s voice crackles over the walkie-talkie, edged with concern, as he asks, “Do we have any idea which direction she might have gone?” His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty, echoing the urgency of their search.

Jessi’s voice crackles with determination over the line as she directs the plan, “We’re clueless about her direction. Let’s split up – you take the eastern side, we’ll cover the western.” Meanwhile, Jungkook twists the key in the ignition, setting the window wipers to a frantic rhythm. Jimin, gripped by worry, perches on the edge of his seat in the back, craning forward over the center console to scan the rain-soaked landscape ahead.

They embark on their respective routes, traversing the treacherous terrain of the rugged hills. The landscape is unyielding, but the sturdy trucks with four-wheel drive prove to be invaluable companions. Jungkook guides their vehicle with practiced precision, a stark contrast to the frantic urgency of their previous search when Jessi was missing. This time, he maneuvers cautiously, each movement deliberate, mindful of the perilous conditions and determined to avoid any mishaps.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension in the truck's cabin, his impatience palpable. “Can’t you drive faster?” he urges his brother from the back seat, his anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

Jungkook’s tone carries a hint of frustration as he scuffs, “No, this terrain isn’t really made for fast driving. And relax. We’ll find her,” his words a gentle reassurance amidst the mounting worry.

Jimin huffs impatiently in the back seat, realizing there’s nothing much to do but wait until they find you. Each passing moment heightens his concern, hoping against hope that you’re safe amidst the storm and uncertainty.

Jessi turns to Jimin, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere in the truck. “That ring you bought a while back, is it just collecting dust, or do you plan on giving it to her soon?” Her directness adds another layer of urgency to the situation, hinting at the unresolved emotions lingering between him and you.

Jungkook chuckles beside her, a brief moment of lightness amidst the tension, yet his gaze remains fixed on the rugged path ahead, emphasizing the gravity of the situation they’re in.

Jimin stumbles over his words, his voice strained with uncertainty. “I just don’t think now’s the right time,” he admits, his words tinged with the weight of recent events. “This whole thing with Deiji and then your sister breaking up with me, I don’t think it would be appropriate.” His voice trails off, the unfinished sentence hanging heavy with unspoken emotions.

She scoffs, her tone laced with incredulity. “Appropriate?” Her disbelief echoes through the cabin, challenging Jimin’s hesitation with a raw intensity.

She turns her whole body in her seat to face Jimin, her eyes ablaze with urgency. “I’m sorry, but this whole thing with Deiji is hella suspicious. And you love my sister, right? She loves you too. She’s almost sick, because she broke up with you, did you know that?” Her words hang heavy in the air, charged with a blend of concern and accusation, demanding a response from Jimin.

Jimin’s eyes widen at her words, a mix of surprise and guilt flashing across his face, but he remains silent, his thoughts swirling like a tempestuous sea, grappling with the weight of her accusations.

“She doesn’t eat properly anymore. She’s lost weight, she’s not sleeping— shall I keep going?” She crosses her arms, her voice edged with a mixture of concern and frustration. This whole thing just makes her mad. She hates seeing her favorite people hurt like this, consumed by a storm of emotions that threatens to engulf them both.

“Oh, did you know she cries herself to sleep every night?” she adds, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and vulnerability, as if she’s revealing a secret that should have remained buried.

Jimin’s breath catches at her revelation, his eyes widening in shock. “I didn’t know,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt and regret.

“Listen, I don’t know why she can’t talk to you,” Jessi continues, her tone a blend of frustration and concern. “But having Deiji around makes it incredibly tough for her— and I’m not suggesting you abandon her or your future child. However, finding a balance that allows space for my sister without causing her this kind of pain might be worth considering.”

“But she’s made it clear she’s not ready for kids,” Jimin murmurs, his voice barely audible over the increasingly rough terrain.

“It’s not just any kid, Jimin, it’s hers, for heaven’s sake! Can’t you see the weight of that?” she practically scolds him, her voice firm and resounding with frustration.

Jimin is rendered speechless—his mind swirling with conflicting emotions, leaving him utterly at a loss for words.

“You really hurt her when you started dating Deiji, you know. When you shut her out, assuming she was with Yoongi,” she adds, her voice laced with a raw intensity, fighting for you, voicing the unspoken turmoil you’re grappling with. “She loves you deeply, but I’m certain Deiji triggers memories she’d rather bury.” She pivots back, her tone searing with frustration. “And why the fuck would you do that? Why couldn’t you just talk to her?”

Jimin’s gaze locks onto hers, his eyes widening with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability, as if on the brink of tears. “I know I behaved poorly. I—I don’t know, I was just consumed by jealousy. I know I was petty.”

Jessi nods, her expression softening with empathy. “See, you were jealous and didn’t speak to her. Now she’s jealous and doesn’t speak to you. Do you see a pattern here?” Her words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of truth, urging Jimin to confront the echoes of his own actions.

Jimin nods, his heart heavy with a mix of gratitude and remorse, appreciating both the insight and the gentle reprimand from Jessi.

“Now. If you don’t get your shit together and talk to her, I’m going to ask your little brother to beat your ass up,” she teases, a playful grin lighting up her face. Her hand finds its way to his thigh, a reassuring squeeze emphasizing her point. “But seriously, she’s going to be alright, and you’re going to talk to her.”

Jungkook’s laughter fills the truck cabin, and Jimin nervously bites his lip, but he nods in acknowledgment to your sister’s words. He’s well aware that he needs to have that conversation with you, even though attempts in the past have been met with avoidance on your part. It’s clear that seeing Deiji has been a trigger for you, and the realization hits him hard. He's caused you so much pain, put you through hell, and it's a weight he can't bear. This isn’t how it should be, and he knows he needs to find a way to make things right.

As the rain continues to pour relentlessly, the passage of time becomes a blur, lost in the rhythm of the storm pounding against the truck's windshield.

“Have you had any luck?” Jessi’s voice crackles through the walkie talkie, a lifeline in the storm, as she eagerly seeks any sign of hope or progress.

“Not yet.” Yoongi's voice cuts through the static, tinged with a hint of frustration, indicating the ongoing struggle and the uncertainty of the situation.

Suddenly, Jimin’s voice crackles with urgency, breaking the tension in the truck. “I think I see something—over there, by that bush!” His finger jabs towards a dark figure, barely discernible amidst the downpour, a beacon of hope in the relentless storm.

Jungkook steers the truck towards the figure, the engine growling with determination. As they draw nearer, their headlights cutting through the rain, the silhouette resolves into a familiar form—there you are, huddled against the elements, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, each tremble echoing their worry.

With a surge of relief, Jessi flips on the walkie talkie, her voice slicing through the storm like a beacon of hope. “We’ve found her!” Her words, charged with emotion, resonate through the static, breaking through the tension like a ray of sunlight through dark clouds.

Yoongi’s voice carries a wave of relief, cutting through the tension like a soothing melody. “Thank god,” he exhales, his words echoing the collective sentiment of the group, a chorus of gratitude amid the storm’s fury.

Despite the lingering heat, your body trembles, a stark contrast to the relentless downpour that now subsides, replaced by a calm silence broken only by the soft patter of raindrops.

In the distance, headlights cut through the gloom, bouncing over the rugged landscape, gradually growing larger and clearer. As the familiar black truck draws near, a wave of relief floods your weary and trembling form, soothing your frayed nerves.

The truck grinds to a halt just a stone’s throw away, and in an instant, three figures spill out onto the rain-soaked earth: Jungkook, your steadfast sister, and Jimin, his urgency palpable in every stride.

Jimin sprints to your side with an urgency that echoes his concern, his strides propelled by an undeniable determination. His embrace envelops you, a reassuring anchor amidst the storm. “How are you holding up?” he implores, his voice a blend of worry and relief. You offer a nonchalant shrug, masking the turmoil within. “Could be worse,” you reply, your words betraying the weight of your ordeal.

Your sister’s gaze scans you intently, her eyes mapping every contour, searching for any sign of harm. “What happened?” she inquires, her voice edged with concern. “Mikrokosmos returned without you.” Her words hang in the air, punctuated by the gravity of the situation, each syllable laden with the weight of unanswered questions and looming danger.

“The thunder spooked her and I fell off,” you explain, feeling Jimin’s firm hand pulling you upright. The words spill from your lips, mingling with the pattering rain as you recount the moment of panic and disarray.

“Any injuries?” He inquires, his eyes scanning you with the same meticulous care as your sister had done moments before. Yet, to your relief, there isn’t a single scratch or bruise to be found on your body.

“I-I just feel sore,” you manage, your voice tinged with discomfort, the chill of the rain making your words stutter slightly. Jimin immediately envelops you in his arms once more, leading you gently towards his brother’s truck. Your sister, too, lends her support, her gaze fixed on you with concern. As you glance down, you catch a glimmer from her left hand, and there, amidst the rain, you spot something sparkling.

“What’s that?” You inquire, your voice a mixture of curiosity and exhaustion as they guide you back towards the truck, their arms offering steadying support.

“What?” your sister inquires, her brows furrowing slightly as she holds the door open for you to climb into the backseat.

“That ring on your finger,” you observe, noting the flush creeping up her cheeks. She attempts to conceal her hand, but it’s too late—you’ve already caught sight of it. With gentle insistence, you grasp her hand and bring it closer for inspection. A delicate gold band adorned with a simple white stone gleams in the dim light, its beauty striking you. Glancing at Jungkook, you’re met with a tender expression, silently affirming the significance of the moment.

“You proposed to her?” You inquire, your voice catching on the brink of tears, emotions swirling within you—a mix of overwhelming joy and heartfelt sentiment.

His laughter dances in the air as he admits, “I did,” his grin radiating warmth, all while your sister playfully attempts to wrest her hand from your firm grasp.

“When did this happen?” Inquisitively, you pivot between them, anticipation lacing your voice. Their eyes momentarily break contact, drawn down to the damp earth beneath them, as if searching for the right words amidst the glistening droplets.

“A week ago,” Her admission comes in a hushed tone, tinged with a hint of regret, the weight of secrecy palpable in the air. It's as though the words have been lodged in her throat for days, finally finding release, yet carrying with them the burden of silence she bore for an entire week.

“And you didn’t tell me?” You exhale a mix of disbelief and hurt, your incredulous gaze bouncing between them like a pinball in motion. Reluctantly, you yield to Jimin and your sister's gentle insistence, allowing them to guide you into the shelter of the backseat, away from the relentless downpour. With a comforting presence, Jimin settles beside you, while your sister and Jungkook join you in the truck, cocooning you in a blend of warmth and unspoken apologies.

“We wanted to tell you,” your sister starts, her voice carrying a blend of sincerity and hesitation, mingling with the hum of the engine as Jungkook maneuvers the truck down the hill, steering back towards home.“We just didn’t want to make you sad, so I didn’t wear the ring, until today…” she continues, her eyes betraying a sadness mirrored in your own conflicted emotions. You wrestle with the complexity of her consideration, torn between gratitude for her sensitivity and the ache of your own hidden sorrow. After all, shouldn’t you be thrilled for them? Yet, beneath the surface, your heart echoes with a quieter, more personal ache, one that whispers of your own unspoken battles with sadness and despair.

“Why would you make me sad? It makes me sad that you’ve been hiding it from me,” you lament, a tinge of frustration coloring your words as you grapple with the chill seeping through your sodden attire, clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Each droplet feels like a weight, echoing the heaviness of the withheld truth, leaving you to mire in a mix of emotions, neither warm nor settled.

Sensing your shivers, Jimin swiftly sheds his jacket, enfolding you in its warmth with a tender gesture, a shield against the biting cold that had crept beneath your skin.

“I only wanted to spare you from pain,” your sister’s voice softens, regret lacing each syllable as she meets your gaze, her words heavy with remorse. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

You nod, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Despite the sadness clouding your heart, you grasp onto the flicker of happiness for your loved ones. It sucks that she didn’t tell you, but you do understand why she did it.

Your gaze shifts to Jimin, a whirlwind of unspoken words swirling within you, a thousand thoughts clamoring for attention. Each thought jostles for prominence, yet amidst the chaos, you find yourself lost in the labyrinth of your own mind, grappling with the weight of unsaid feelings, uncertain where to begin or how to articulate the storm raging within.

“Thank you for the jacket,” Gratitude tumbles from your lips for the jacket, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm of silence that has grown between you, though its weight feels heavier with unspoken tension. There’s an unfamiliar air, thick with unresolved emotions, a palpable unease that lingers like an unwelcome guest. You’ve been avoiding him, grappling with the aftermath of your decision to end things, haunted by the specter of his past relationship and the fragility of your own heart, torn between the longing for reconciliation and the fear of further heartbreak.

“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry,” Jimin murmurs, his gaze a tender caress as he studies you intently, as if attempting to decipher the intricate layers of your being. You can’t help but wonder if he notices the shadows beneath your eyes, heavier now than before, or if he sees the telltale signs of your daily tears etched upon your swollen, puffy face. Does he perceive the subtle changes in your physique, the way your clothes hang looser, mirroring the weight of your burdened heart? In the depths of his gaze, you question if he glimpses the essence of your soul, the silent yearning for his touch, for the rekindling of his boundless love that once enveloped you in warmth and security.

“What for?” You inquire, a soft sniffle punctuating your words, yet your gaze remains unwavering, locked onto the depths of his captivating brown eyes. In that moment, a wave of longing washes over you, the realization of your own foolishness crashing against the shores of your consciousness. You’ve yearned for him in his absence, now understanding the foolishness of your pride. Love pulses within you, a beacon amidst the stormy seas of doubt, begging the question: shouldn't love be reason enough? Isn't it the only thing that truly matters in the end?

“For treating you so poorly. For every misstep, every hurtful word, every moment of silence that drove a wedge between us, for dating Deiji, for not realizing how much it all has hurt you,” he confesses, his voice a fragile whisper teetering on the edge of remorse. Tears glisten in his eyes, a testament to the depth of his regret. His trembling hand finds solace in the curve of your cheek, tenderly cupping it as if to anchor himself amidst the tempest of his emotions. You yield to his touch, the warmth and softness of his hand a balm to your wounded soul, melting away the barriers that had stood between you, allowing you to surrender to the familiar comfort of his embrace.

“I’ve been unbelievably foolish, and I’m utterly sorry,” his voice catches in his throat, the weight of his remorse evident as a tear breaks free from his lashes, tracing a silent path down his cheek. “I never meant to hurt you like this,” he confesses, each word heavy with regret. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the depth of his affection echoing in the tremor of his voice, a testament to the sincerity of his devotion.

“I know you broke up with me because you’re not ready to have kids, and I completely understand that,” his hand intertwines with yours, a lifeline in the tumult of emotions that swirl between you. His gaze searches yours, seeking understanding, seeking reassurance, perhaps seeking forgiveness. “But I can’t shake the feeling that we belong together— I want you back,” he confesses, his voice a soft plea tinged with hope. “I love you, and I believe in us. I never imagined this path for us, but I truly believe we can navigate it together,” he asserts, his grip on your hand tightening as if to anchor his resolve. “And the child, she’ll have her own home with Deiji,” he adds, a note of reassurance in his voice, as if to alleviate any concerns that lingered in your heart.

“I got your letter,” you murmur, your tone laden with emotion, observing the shock that washes over his face.

“How?” His voice quivers slightly, betraying the turmoil raging within him, and a pang of guilt washes over you as you realize you probably shouldn’t have read the letter, especially since he didn’t give it to you personally.

Your gaze shifts towards Jungkook, and Jimin instinctively follows the direction of your eyes, noting the scuffs, before returning his attention to you. “I meant every word I wrote in it,” he declares, his tone unwavering despite the vulnerability in his eyes.

As you nod, waves of his love wash over you, intertwining with your own affection and flooding your veins with a warmth that knits together the fragments of your once-scattered heart.

Your heart flutters within its cage of ribs, caught in a dance of uncertainty and longing. His words resonate with you, stirring a flicker of hope in the depths of your soul, yet doubt lingers like a shadow at dusk. You’re torn, teetering on the precipice of indecision, but amidst the turmoil, one truth remains steadfast: your love for him burns unwaveringly, an eternal flame that illuminates the darkness of doubt. And in that flicker of certainty, you find solace, trusting that love, in all its complexities, will guide you through the labyrinth of uncertainty.

“Okay.” The word escapes your lips like a fragile whisper, hanging in the air like the delicate balance of a teetering scale. In the ensuing silence that envelops the truck, you observe the shift in Jimin’s expression, his features morphing into a silent query, a question mark etched upon his face, seeking to decipher the weight of your response and the myriad emotions swirling within you.

“What do you mean?” Jimin’s voice breaks the silence, tinged with confusion, his brows furrowing in bewilderment at your curt response. His inquiry hangs in the air, an invitation to unravel the enigma of your brief words, beckoning you to delve deeper into the intricacies of your thoughts and feelings.

“I want us to be together again,” you confess, your gaze locked with his, the shimmer of tears mirroring the depth of his remorse. Yet amidst the regret, his love for you radiates like a beacon, casting aside the shadows of doubt. You can’t deny the intensity of your own affection, a love that courses through your veins, unwavering and undeniable. It’s as if destiny itself has woven your souls together, an unbreakable bond that transcends time and distance, a truth you've known since the moment your eyes first met after all those years apart.

Without hesitation, Jimin closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a fervent embrace. The kiss is hurried, tinged with the salt of his tears, yet you savor every moment, for his touch ignites a fire within you, reigniting the vibrant hues of your world. In the warmth of his embrace, you feel the dull ache of sadness dissipate, replaced by the kaleidoscope of emotions that accompany the return of his affection. It’s as if life’s dull monochrome has been replaced with a symphony of colors, painting your world anew.

Rekindling your relationship with Jimin has been more than just good—it’s been a revival of your soul. With him by your side, you feel whole once more, the missing piece of your heart seamlessly slotting back into place. Despite the challenges that still loom on the horizon, you find solace in the simple truth that you have each other to rely on, to support and uplift in times of need.

As two full moons have passed, the looming prospect of Deiji’s imminent labor hangs heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the complexities that have woven themselves into your life. Despite the passage of time, your disdain for her remains unyielding, fueled by a nagging sense of distrust that refuses to be quelled. You’ve voiced your suspicions to Jimin, laying bare the unsettling behaviors that gnaw at your conscience—her reluctance to reveal the results of the paternity test, the cryptic details surrounding her medical appointments, the sudden refusal to allow Jimin to accompany her, especially after your request to see the test results. With each revelation, Jimin’s eyes begin to open to the unsettling truth lurking beneath Deiji’s facade.

A creeping suspicion takes root within you, whispering the unsettling possibility that Deiji’s claims may be nothing more than elaborate fabrications. The thought lingers like a shadow in your mind, casting doubt upon the foundation of your reality. While a part of you entertains the notion that perhaps she never carried Jimin’s child at all, the implications of such deceit weigh heavily upon your conscience. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, the idea that unraveling her web of lies could potentially simplify your life, yet the thought of the devastation it would bring to Jimin is a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between truth and consequence.

In the face of adversity, you and Jimin are actively striving to strengthen your communication skills, recognizing the tendency to retreat into your own worlds when challenges arise. Both of you understand the paramount importance of articulating your thoughts and feelings openly and honestly, realizing that true connection and understanding can only flourish in the fertile soil of effective communication.

And so, you find yourself once more within the comforting confines of his home, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafting through the air, stirring your appetite and igniting a sense of eager anticipation. As hungry as you were during your previous visit, this time the atmosphere is charged with a newfound warmth and intimacy, infusing the meal with an extra layer of significance. With each bite, you’re not only nourishing your body but also savoring the love and care that your boyfriend has poured into the culinary creation before you.

“Jimin, this looks absolutely mouthwatering,” you exclaim, your fork poised eagerly above the food, ready to indulge in the culinary masterpiece before you.

“Thanks, I hope it tastes as good as it looks,” he replies, a radiant smile gracing his features as he joins you in savoring the meal he's prepared with care.

The first bite is an explosion of flavors on your palate, a symphony of tastes that dance and mingle, leaving you craving more. It’s a culinary masterpiece, each ingredient harmonizing perfectly to create a sensation that delights every sense. This incredible man’s cooking never fails to amaze, leaving you in awe of his talent and grateful for the privilege of tasting his creations.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” he interjects between bites, his expression thoughtful as he pauses to address the topic weighing on his thoughts.

Locked in a gaze brimming with boundless affection, you find yourself lost in the depths of his eyes, a silent exchange of love and understanding passing between you. With a gentle nod, you encourage him to continue, your heart swelling with anticipation for the words he’s about to share.

“I’ve been thinking about the arrival of the baby,” he begins, his eyes alight with curiosity, sparking a smile to bloom across your face in response. “Do you think we should prepare a special room for her? And where do you think she should be sleeping?”

“I believe she should start off in our room, close to us, but later she can get her own room” you propose, a smile gracing your lips as you envision the cozy arrangement.

“Hmm. Good idea. Thank you for being so cool about it and wanting to do it with me,” he expresses, his eyes shimmering with affection as he extends his hand across the table, silently inviting you to join him in this journey.

You cover his hand with yours, gently tracing circles on his skin as you speak softly, “I don’t know if I’d call it being cool, but I’m doing my best to navigate this new territory.” Despite the uncertainty looming ahead, you offer him a reassuring smile, knowing that embarking on this co-parenting journey will undoubtedly present challenges. Yet, with Jimin by your side, you feel a sense of strength and reassurance, a reminder that together, you can weather any storm.

“Well, thank you. It means everything to me,” he murmurs, his voice laden with gratitude as he leans across the table, closing the gap between you to plant a tender kiss on your lips.

You draw back slightly, your hands tenderly cradling his face, locking eyes with him as you whisper, “I love you, Jimin,” the words carrying the weight of your devotion and the promise of forever.

A warm smile graces his lips in response to your declaration, a silent acknowledgment of the deep love you share. Returning to your meal, a comfortable silence descends upon you both, enveloping you like a soft embrace, a tranquil refuge from the chaos of the world outside.

Raising your gaze, you wait patiently for his eyes to meet yours, the urgency of your words evident in your expression. “I truly believe you need to have a conversation with Deiji,” you urge, a sense of unease settling in your stomach. “There’s something off about all of this, something I can’t quite decipher,” you add, your voice laced with concern and the unspoken weight of intuition.

Jimin nods solemnly, his brows furrowing in concern. “You’re right. It’s been bothering me too. She’s been unresponsive to my texts lately,” he admits, his voice tinged with apprehension and a growing sense of unease.

“Perhaps it’s time to pay her a visit and have a heart-to-heart conversation,” you propose, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he responds eagerly, his eyes alight with determination. With a renewed sense of purpose, you both continue to savor the meal, engaging in light-hearted conversation as you contemplate the impending discussion with Deiji.

For an entire week, communication between you and Jimin has been scarce, lost amidst the whirlwind of chores and responsibilities that accompany life on your respective ranches. From dawn till dusk, your days blur together with the relentless tasks of sheep shearing, cattle herding, and countless other duties demanding your attention. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, leaving little energy for anything beyond the essential exchanges of ‘goodbye’ and ‘good morning’ shared over the phone, a stark reminder of the physical and emotional toll of your demanding lifestyles.

Tonight is one of those nights when every muscle in your body aches with weariness, longing for the soothing touch of Jimin’s hands to unravel the knots of tension and stress that cling stubbornly to your frame. The thought of sinking into the warm embrace of his oversized bathtub offers a glimmer of solace amidst the weariness, a sanctuary where the trials of ranch life can be temporarily forgotten. Despite feeling battered and bruised, the exhaustion of the day weighs heavy upon you, dragging you into the welcoming arms of sleep within mere minutes.

You’re unsure of how long you’ve been lost in slumber, but a peculiar scent and an eerie sound stir you from your rest. As consciousness slowly returns, your head feels heavy and your senses are muddled, the faint aroma of something resembling a campfire teasing your nostrils. The source of the scent eludes you, shrouded in the fog of fatigue that clouds your mind, as the haunting creak of wood contracting fills the air, sending a shiver down your spine.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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