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skzdarlings · 1 year

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the same but different | the threesome series ; skz ; han/reader/felix

masterlist.

threesome series part 3/4.

You grew up with Felix and Jisung. Your definition of normal has always been unique, considering Felix is a faerie and magically connected to Jisung. So even though you are dating Jisung, when Felix tells you he needs to marry to keep up appearences in the faerie court, you see no reason to say no…

pairing: han jisung/reader/lee felix content info: sexual content. threesome. faerie au. this is an almost 16k word read. one day i will meet my maker and have to atone for that. warning for some ambiguous motivations plus general freaky faerie and supernatural stuff. felix and jisung have a magical connection, reader does not know the details but it seems they can physically feel each other's reactions and urges and they do a lot of the same things in an uncanny way. there is a 'consummation ritual' that involves being watched but reader is clever about it.

Autumnal flurries follow Han Jisung everywhere, little tornadoes of red-and-gold kicking up an elemental fuss wherever he steps. It might be a remnant of his time with the faerie folk, or maybe a coincidence, or maybe he is such a blustery font of chaos that he is simply kicking up wind storms on his own.

He totters into the café with his usual trail of leaves, much to the displeasure of the bus boy who follows with a broom. The wind gets restless at the window. It throws itself against the pane with a heavy, reverberating thunder as if nature is knocking in pursuit of Jisung’s attention. You watch a few pine cones hurl themselves at the glass before everything settles down on its own.

Jisung pays it no mind. He slides into the booth across from you, heaving a big dramatic breath.

“Good afternoon,” you say, amused with your boyfriend’s theatrics. They are as constant as his flurries.

“Yo, is it, ‘cause ah, HAHA—I’ve been having a day.” He thunks his head on the back of the booth and pretends to fall asleep. His round glasses skew with the loll of his head.

Jisung dressed up for today’s date. He is wearing a beige coat that flatters his warm complexion plus that cute checkered scarf you gave him last winter. You don’t mind his usual hoodies and caps as it always puts a swagger in his step, but you appreciate his effort even if it is a little random.

He lifts his head with another musical sigh, golden blonde hair fluttering from his breath. His big glasses make his dark eyes even bigger and you smile again.

“Hi,” you say sweetly.

He whimpers with more theatrical misery.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says like it is the most painful fact in the world. “Why are you so beautiful? And funny, and smart, and mine. If you weren’t gonna be ugly and horrible, the least you could have done is reject me. It wouldn’t have been so bad. I could have been a lonely suffering artist, hidden away in a basement, composing symphonies for the beautiful woman out of my league.”

“I think you just described the Phantom of the Opera,” you say.

“Even better.” Jisung sighs wistfully. “He lived in an underground sex dungeon, right? I don’t think he even paid rent.”

You laugh into your hot chocolate.

“What’s gotten into you?” you say. It’s a rhetorical question. Jisung is always a little silly.

Your playful boyfriend thumps his hands on the table and glares past you, out the window.

“Faeries,” he says brusquely. “And their stupid faerie bullshit. My life is a nightmare and an arthouse horror movie and no one has ever suffered more than me—oooh, is that a chocolate croissant?”

You slap his hand when he reaches for your pastry. He yelps like you chopped it off.

“Jisungie,” you say, lifting an eyebrow, “what do you mean faerie bullshit?”

He pouts spectacularly while unknotting his scarf. He speaks in a watery, despondent voice, very contrary to his usual goofiness, “What do you think I mean?”

This, it seems, is also rhetorical as you have no opportunity to answer. The bell jingles above the door and a little shiver moves down your spine.

Unlike Jisung, you have never been to the faerie realm, but you have a gift for recognizing a supernatural presence. Everything catches your eye as if they are sparkling fireflies, no matter their efforts to hide.

The courtly fae, the ones that look human, have a tendency to cast enchantments both literal and metaphorical, their impossible beauty captivating to any human eye. You are not immune to their gravitas, the way space seems to warp around them like earth is little more than gelatinous mire, but you can sense their other-worldliness before seeing them. This is most likely due to exposure. You did, after all, grow up with a faerie.

You look to the doorway.

Ah. Speaking of.

“Oh my god,” Jisung whines. “He said he’d give me time to tell you.” He steals your hot chocolate and takes a swig like it’s hard vodka.

“Tell me,” you repeat. “Tell me what?”

Though you are talking to Jisung, you cannot help but look over at his… his…

His Felix.

Felix smiles when he sees you. He scrunches his nose cutely and it makes his constellation of dark freckles dance on his sunny face.

The freckles have always been an intriguing part of his glamour – for his human-like appearance is a mask shrouding his true faerie form – because faeries typically regard such things as imperfections. Perhaps the freckles are residual from his time in the human realm, as Jisung’s flurries are the opposite.

Felix is unbelievably beautiful. He is wearing mortal clothes but he does not look truly human. There’s something in his movements, fluid and dance-like, sometimes too swift to perceive. His blonde hair catches the light with a perfect glow at every angle, his slender frame flawlessly draped in a black long-coat and a flattering black sweater. His lovely ringed fingers part the air with his little wave and his perfectly pink mouth curls up in a sweet smile. His dark eyes seem to sparkle.

He crosses the restaurant in a few strides, quicker than a human would. He smiles the whole time.

“Hello,” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter. Or maybe you’re the butter, his voice the knife, gliding right down the centre of you and settling low in your belly. It has always had that effect.

“Felix, hello,” you say in that quivery way you always greet him. You grew up with both Jisung and Felix but Felix flits off to the faerie world when it suits him, and every time he returns you find yourself awestruck by him, as if you had never truly seen him before.

Jisung smacks his head down on the surface of the table. You and Felix look at him, you with considerable more concern. Felix just draws his mouth into a flat line, neither smiling nor frowning, more like he anticipated his… his… his Jisung would behave this way.

“Is it okay if I sit?” Felix asks, pointing to the spot beside Jisung. Jisung is somewhat sprawled in the booth but this doesn’t seem to concern Felix. When you nod, he smiles, smooths out his coat, and simply bumps Jisung with his hip to squish himself into the booth.

Jisung whimpers again, resting his head on the wall and pouting at it.

“So,” Felix says. He folds his hands on the table and tips his head, looking at you. “How are you doing these days, hmm?”

Faeries are known for their decorum. It can turn sour very quickly, but it is imperative to adhere to rules of hospitality and general politeness.

It is still strange and unnerving to have a faerie prince plunk himself into your booth and smile at you so politely. Especially when you haven’t seen Felix in more than a year. A year and fifteen days, to be specific, because Jisung has counted them all. Jisung complains endlessly when Felix visits but he complains even more when he’s gone for too long.

You think Felix must have returned to the human realm a while ago. Jisung is usually friendly when he firsts sees him, but right now he is glaring.

“What?” Felix looks at Jisung. They cock their heads at each other, the same angle, same time.

It is always funny seeing them side-by-side. Singularly, they look nothing alike, perhaps because Felix has intentionally deviated his glamour from being identical. Jisung has a round face, cartoonishly cute at times, his build bulkier from his somewhat erratic workout schedule. Felix is all sharp lines with a pointed elegance to his features, though his presence fills what space his slender body does not. Their only similarity is their hair, similarly bouncy, alike in length, and identically shaded. Right now it is a matching blonde.

Despite their ample differences, there is an uncanny sameness to them. They move the same way, tip their heads at the same time, roll their eyes in tandem. They even take a breath at the same time. You are certain if you pressed a hand to each of their chests, you would find their hearts beating to the same steady cadence.

Felix was once a changeling. Faeries sometimes swap their infants for human ones, occasionally for fun, oftentimes when their offspring is sickly or malformed. Once a changeling swap has occurred, the faerie and human are inexorably linked to one another. If the human parents try to kill the faerie or let it die, it will also kill their child, so it is in their best interest to nurse the sickly baby and hope the faeries swap them back.

Felix was born too soon, a shrivelled little creature, third son of the autumn high prince’s third wife. His mother swapped him for Jisung, stealing the little mortal away in his infancy. Jisung’s mother was not a bewildered, simpering mortal, however. Her resilience and intelligence was part of the family’s initial allure, but it was also the downfall of the changeling operation. She ventured into the faerie realm and won back her son, plus the right to see the lonely faerie prince that had been so unceremoniously abandoned by his unloving family.

She returned to the mortal world with Jisung and Felix. The changeling prince spent his childhood bouncing between the human realm and the world of faerie. You grew up next door to Jisung and the three of you have been a tight-knit trio since before you can remember.

You love Felix just as much as you love Jisung, it’s just that… the faerie-ness complicates things. You aren’t sure Felix really loves you or Jisung in a way you understand. Even now, his enquiry after your well-being seems more like a necessary script than genuine question. He will be uneasy until you complete your side of the exchange.

“I’m good, Felix,” you say. “How are you?”

He smiles, freckles dancing. “Good,” he says. “Thank you.”

Felix cracks his neck and Jisung is compelled to do the same, though he looks irritated about it. The depth of their connection has always been ambiguous to you, but sometimes Jisung feels phantom aches and pains, urges that come out of nowhere and pester him like an itch until he satisfies them.

He seems impatient today, his glare not subsiding for a second.

“You said I could have time to tell her,” Jisung says.

“I gave you time,” Felix replies calmly.

“You gave me like five minutes, man!”

“It doesn’t take more than five minutes,” Felix says. He seems genuinely perplexed that Jisung would believe otherwise. He looks at Jisung with a head tilt that Jisung mirrors, then they both look at you. “Hi,” Felix says. “Will you marry me? See. That was less than five minutes. It was five syllables, actually. Well, I guess if you had asked it, you would have said, ‘Will you marry Felix,’ so it would have been six syllables, but that’s still less than five minutes, even if you streeeeetch it ouuuut—”

“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Jisung says, then plants his forehead in his palm. “That came out wrong.”

Felix does not plant his forehead in his palm but he does rest his chin in his hand.

“So,” he says to you, smiling. “Will you? Two syllables, by the way.”

“Shut up about the syllables, dude.”

“Wait,” you say, interrupting their inane blabber. If you leave them to it, Jisung and Felix will dance in verbal circles for hours and still not clarify anything. “Marry you? Why would I— Felix, you know Jisung and I— I don’t understand what’s—”

You love Jisung and Felix. You find them equally attractive, in their own way and as a complimentary pair. As much as you adore Jisung, you feel bereft when Felix is gone for a long time. Your crush on Felix was as inevitable as your romance with Jisung. Only where that relationship has long since solidified into a stable love, you and Felix have never done much more than hug.

Jisung and Felix, on the other hand, have shared their own intimacies. You caught them kissing back when you were teenagers. You got pouty rather than angry, viciously jealous of both of them at once. Jisung was too flustered to speak, mostly chirping like a frightened bird, while Felix just smiled and cheerily said, “Jisungie says we’re practicing.”

“Practicing?” you asked, hands on hips. “Practicing for what exactly?”

Felix frowned, looking confused, like it had never occurred to him to follow that line of questioning.

“For girls!” Jisung exclaimed.

Felix snapped his fingers and nodded. “Right,” he said. “Girls. That was it. Wait.” He looked confused again and pointed to you. “Isn’t she a girl?”

“She doesn’t count,” Jisung said, getting redder by the second. You threw a shoe at him and stormed out of the house.

That was a long time ago. That momentary flicker of suggestion was the only time Felix brought up potentially kissing you. Even then, it seemed less desirous than pragmatic.

And now, for some reason, he is asking you to marry him.

“Oh my god, man, maybe if you used more than five syllables, she would get what’s going on,” Jisung says. His gaze softens when he looks at you. He reaches across the table to take your hand, though it takes you a second to respond. Your fingers are frozen stiff around your mug. “Baby,” he says in a soft, apologetic voice, “I know it sounds a bit strange, but I promise I can explain.”

“I have to get married,” Felix interrupts, ignoring when Jisung scowls at him. “I think it’s just for, uhhh, appearances, basically. My brother Chan just became high prince and I’m the only one of my mum’s kids who isn’t married and she thinks it makes her look bad because all my dad’s other kids have their lives together… anyway, she said either I find a bride for myself or she was going to give me one. And, uh, she’s not very, hmm, generous, is she?”

Definitely a rhetorical question. You do not need to have met the faerie princess to know of her predilection for malice. Felix would most likely be saddled with some Shakespearean donkey-headed monstrosity for all his days. Felix, being Felix, would smile blithely and accept his awful fate, saying little on the matter when prompted.

Felix is like that. He shows neither amity nor animosity to much. His emotions, whatever they are, manifest unpredictably. He smiles a lot of blank smiles. Occasionally he bursts into random tears that flood out of him with terrifying distress. It comes upon him unexpectedly, so big that it is almost theatrical. You think he might be mimicking expressions of human pain to convey whatever interior hurt he is feeling, however severe or benign, then it just stops until next time.

He is not the sort to wail and harass you. Even if he was desperate, he would not force you to marry him. Looking into his dark eyes, you know that much. There are plenty of stories the world over where supernatural princes steal mortal girls from their beds, where they compel them to dance until their feet bleed, where they fill their heads with songs that play until the human goes mad and dies in some anguished pit in their own mind.

There are not many stories where they propose in a café.

“Felix, you idiot!” Jisung smacks Felix on the arm. “You didn’t even tell her the important part.”

“Oh yeaaah,” Felix says.

Jisung scoffs and looks at you, his expression soft again. He squeezes your hand.

“Baby,” he says, “you know how Felix and I have a special, um, connection?”

You know he means the changeling magic but you think about them kissing. You push the image aside, as well as the lingering jealously, and nod.

“Right,” Jisung says. “We’re like… tied together and shit, right? Like if I got hit by a bus, Felix would also go splat.”

“Faeries don’t splat,” Felix says, bristled.

“Splat,” Jisung says sweetly, “like a big stupid faerie pancake.”

“Jisung,” you say, “are you going to make a point?”

“The point,” Jisung says, “is Felix is gonna live a long time, if he doesn’t go splat. So that means… I’m gonna live a long time too.”

“If,” Felix interrupts, “he comes with me to live among the folk.”

The fair folk. Another name for the courtly fae. Divided into seasonal realms, the four courts host a variety of faerie life. Felix is from the autumn court and Jisung was spirited to it as baby. You have never crossed from this world into the faerie world. You know the stories better than anyone, almost more familiar with the foreign realm than the world around you, but its reality has only ever been a distant dream.

This seems like the world’s strangest break-up: your boyfriend leaving you for his changeling faerie to live an immortal life in the faerie realm.

Except it’s not a break-up. It’s a proposal.

“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” you say, juggling feelings of confusion and jealousy and desire. “What does that have to me with me? And getting married?”

“It will bond us together too,” Felix says, smiling again. “Do you understand? Isn’t that wonderful? The three of us can be together for always. I think you’ll really like it.” He looks sideways at Jisung and adds, “And you’re smarter than him when it comes to the fair folk. I would feel better if Jisung had your company.”

“What?” Jisung slaps the table. “What are you talking about? I’m the one who’s been there! I am so totally super smart about faeries all the time!”

“You once ate a magic apple and grew a tail,” Felix says.

“You know I get snacky after my naps. Besides, I got better. Suck on some salty iron and boom, no tail.”

Felix sighs, exasperated, and Jisung sighs, even more exasperated.

“Please marry me,” Felix says imploringly. “For all of us.”

Felix cannot lie. Faerie magic ranges from miniscule to immense, but lying is an impossibility regardless of rank.

An inability to lie does not guarantee honesty. The truth can be obfuscated. Faeries are clever with words, cleverer still what they reveal at all.

Felix has not lied. He needs to marry. It would bond you. You are smarter than Jisung when it comes to the fair folk.

Felix has not told the whole truth. He does not need to marry you specifically. He would be happy with just Jisung, you think. They have something special, something you have always watched from the outside. You know a lot about faeries but you do not belong to their world. Felix could keep Jisung safe. You are a spare.

Despite the loving stare of your two oldest friends, you feel woefully insecure. You take your hands back and rest them in your lap, staring morosely into your cooling hot chocolate.

“Baby?” Jisung says gently.

You look up. They look equally concerned. They reach for you at the same time then look at each other. They mutely come to an accord and Felix takes your hand. You shiver immediately.

“Sweetheart,” Felix says. “It’s just me. I won’t… I won’t make you do something you don’t want to do, but I… I want to know… I mean, do you not…”

“You don’t want to come with us?” Jisung asks, his bottom lip wobbling. Tears spill over his cheeks seconds later. “I-I-I know it’s a bit weird. But you’ve always talked about wanting to see it anyway. And you don’t have any family here anymore. Are you worried about the royal court thing? Because I’m gonna be there and Felix says we’ll spend most of our time at his bower anyway and okay I don’t even know what that means and I didn’t wanna seem stupid so I didn’t ask—”

“It’s just my tree-house, Jisung,” Felix says.

“It’s just his tree-house,” Jisung sobs.

“It isn’t that,” you say. You reach for Jisung so you are holding both their hands. You give them a squeeze. “I love you both. So much. It hurts a little sometimes because of how much. And I’m scared… I’m scared of being left behind.”

They both pause. Felix looks more bewildered than any supernatural creature in history, you are sure. They are inviting you to come along and you express fear of the opposite. It must be incomprehensible to his mind.

Apparently it also confuses Jisung because he softly whispers, “What the fuck.”

You bring their hands together and withdraw your own touch.

“I just mean…” You are too embarrassed to vocalize it.

Recognition lights their eyes at the same time. Jisung rips his hand away.

“I can’t be alone with Felix forever!” Jisung cries. “Are you crazy? We need you! Without you it’s just… just… just us. It’s nothing, it’s empty. You… you’re our person. If you’re not there too… then… then… then I’m not going either. I’d rather get old and die with you than live forever without you.”

Felix’s mouth opens and closes with a storm of unspoken thoughts. He has sobbed spectacularly at birthday cards and scraped knees, but he doesn’t cry now.

Jisung’s exclamation rattles you. It was such a genuine burst of emotion, so rich with devotion that you feel silly for ever doubting either of them. Empty, he said. You never considered what kind of echo might exist between them, how your presence filled it and made it better, not worse.

You intend to remedy your blunder, an apology on your lips, but then Felix finds his words.

“I’ll tell you my name,” he says. “My true name. Will that be enough to convince you?”

Enough?

You and Jisung stare at Felix with your jaws dropped. Felix clenches his jaw, staring back at you.

Faeries go by many names in their long lifetimes. Felix was the name Jisung’s mother gave him, but it is not his true faerie name. Names are powerful things. If a mortal has a faerie’s true name, they can ensorcell and compel that faerie to do their bidding. It essentially enslaves them.

Faeries do not freely reveal their true names, not to other faeries and certainly not to mortals. Tricky mortals have uncovered faerie names, stories of humans triumphing over wicked creatures, but you cannot think of a single story where the faerie got down on one knee and willingly offered it.

Because that’s what Felix does. He gets out of the booth and gets down on one knee in front of you, then looks up at you with dark, desperate eyes.

“I’ll tell you right now if that’s what it takes,” he says. His hands are shaking. The wind starts knocking at the window again, harder than before. Leaves form columns of colour, shooting up to the sky, scattering in every direction.

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t.” The trust this requires is extraordinarily substantial. It means more than any simple I love you. Maybe Felix feels human love or maybe he feels something different. Maybe losing you is not like losing a person, but like losing a limb or something equally vital. It must be, for him to offer up his entire being in a word.

The gesture means more than you can say. The best way to reciprocate it is by refusing it.

“It’s enough,” you say, choked up. “It’s enough that you would offer.”

“I’ll tell you,” he says, like he thinks you don’t believe him. But of course you believe him. He can’t lie.

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Come here please.”

Felix sits beside you and lets you wrap your arms around his neck. He is tentative at first but then he looks at Jisung and holds you tighter. The world outside settles once more.

“Wow, that was intense,” Jisung says. He grabs a napkin and blows his nose. “Wheeew. Wednesdays, am I right?”

Felix pulls back, just enough so he can see your face. You feel shy under his rapt attention, flush with warmth when his fingertips sweep from your temple to your jaw. He holds your chin and tilts your face up. He seems to be studying you. This close, you can see all the shades of brown in his eyes, even flecks of dark, dark green and threads of gold. There is a shimmer to the black of his iris. If he turned a certain way, you think his glamour would disappear. You think he would be beautiful anyway.

He exhales. His breath flutters over your lips.

“Will you come with us?” he asks, his deep voice rumbling so soft and low. “Will you marry me?”

You look at Jisung. You cannot imagine any circumstance in which a man would look so eager for his girlfriend to accept another man’s proposal, yet this feels completely normal.

Normal. The three of you have always had your own definition of that word, haven’t you?

You look at Felix, at the shimmer of his bold gaze.

“Yes,” you say. “Yes, I will.”

Felix smiles and Jisung lets out a whoop! You laugh, turning aside to wipe an unbidden tear from your eye. Felix touches your cheek. He looks more entranced than anything, blinking long and slow like a content cat.

Jisung is still celebrating. He shoves half your croissant in his mouth while you are distracted. Then, with his cheeks stuffed full of pastry, his eyes get wide.

“Ohyeah, weforgotsumffing!” he says around a mouthful of food. He coughs, swallowing too quickly. Felix clears his throat and passes Jisung your mug. Jisung gulps it down while you and Felix exchange an affectionate glance.

Then Jisung clinks the cup on the table and looks at you, sheepish.

“Haha,” he says. “By the way, you have to fuck Felix.”

There are entrances to faerie in the deepest part of the woods. Doorways are found in unlikely patterns that most humans will declare peculiar but innocuous: rings of spotted mushrooms, circular patches of darkening grass, shadows that arch with a perfect curve beneath a canopy of leaves.

You have known this all your life, but you also knew to never go looking. Not on your own. A mortal wandering into faerie is not so different from a lamb wandering into a wolf den.

Even with a wolf escort, you feel like that vulnerable lamb. You hold hands with Jisung the entire trek, trailing behind Felix who hums as he lightly dances his way through even the harshest terrain. Finally you come across two branches, twining up and up until they tangle like two hands clasping across a chasm.

Winded from the exertion of the hike, you and Jisung come to a slow stop to catch your breaths. Felix hurries ahead, his face brightening as he approaches the archway.

“You ready?” Jisung asks, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah,” you say. “You?”

“Oh, hell yeah, baby,” he says with a laugh. You look at him only to find his gaze turned on the archway, faraway with reminiscence. “I remember it, you know,” he says.

“What?” you ask. Jisung has never mentioned this before. “But you were just a baby.”

He looks at you with surprise, like he didn’t expect an answer. Maybe he didn’t mean to say it out loud. He laughs, deflecting the tension, and rubs the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I know,” he says. “Magic I guess, or something. I dunno. I just know I remember it. There’s stuff that happened last week I can’t remember. In a year, or fifty, or a hundred, I don’t know what I’ll remember from here. But I remember this place like I never left.”

You squeeze his hand again. He looks at you and smiles, squeezing back.

“Come on!” Felix calls. He is standing at the archway, waving to you. He is wearing jeans and a t-shirt, a leather satchel slung across his chest. The mundanity of his clothing looks unnatural. If he looked inhuman in that café, he looks even less human now. His glamour is in tact, his freckles pronounced, but there is a quality to him that defies logic. He looks like he could take off flying and it would not be unusual.

You and Jisung exchange a final glance then approach. Felix smiles and walks backwards through the archway. You can see him clearly as if he merely took another step in the woods. He holds out his hands, you and Jisung taking one each, then you step through as well.

Oh.

October orange sunlight pours through the trees, the early sunset colour of a clear autumn day at its close. The woods are a mosaic of colour: green, orange, yellow, red, brown, little swirls of leaves flying from branch to branch, gathering in piles and scattering again. You watch leaves settle over a pile of bones only for the whole apparatus to knit itself together. You stumble to a surprised stop as a cat made of bones and leaves unfurls before your eyes. It scampers up to Felix, rattling like an ivory windchime and somehow still purring. Felix scratches behind its leafy ears, smiling and greeting the kitty affectionately.

“Come on,” Felix says, not noticing the way you and Jisung are completely arrested by the sight of the cat. “It’s not far from here.”

It is the domicile of the autumn court. It is built into the woods, or swallowed by it, grand structures built within and around trees, some abodes very high in the sunlit branches, some disappearing into the ground. They are decorated with garlands of dried flowers, gardens of gourds and harvest fruit weaving around the lower rooms. You jump, startled, when a pile of nearby leaves rises up, revealing itself to be a deer, presumably also made of bones beneath its leafy surface.

“Whoa,” Jisung says, an apt summary. The leaf animals have no eyes, the faces uncanny. The deer turns its neck with a click of bone, dipping its head in a respectful bow to Felix as he passes.

Felix doesn’t notice. He is watching you and Jisung now, smiling with so much mirth you think he might start glowing.

“Do you like it?” he asks, looking directly at you. Maybe he knows what Jisung is feeling without asking. You try to school your expression to show more than just awe.

“It’s beautiful,” you say. You can see how a mortal could be a swept away by the beauty of the faerie court. Between the glitter of crunchy leaves and the wafts of cinnamon and spice, it fantastically overwhelms the senses. You can also see how quickly this dream could turn into a nightmare, if the sun was eclipsed and the undead creatures of the earth turned their vacant eyes on you.

You do not convey the complexity of your thoughts. Felix takes for granted that you always tell the truth, even though he knows you can lie. You think he sometimes forgets. His whole face crinkles up with a smile now, maybe too severely, but you appreciate his attempt to render delight for you.

“A little further to the palace,” Felix says.

“Palaaace,” Jisung says in a sing-song, squeezing your hand. He almost knocks you over when a bird swoops by his head. This raven is real, not made of leaves, and it perches on Felix’s shoulder. “Birds,” Jisung says woefully. “There’s always a freaky-ass bird.”

“This is one of mine,” Felix says, scratching its head. “I think my brother sent it.”

You watch as the bird leans in, eerily person-like in how it seems to whisper in his ear before fluttering off. Felix neither smiles nor frowns, his mouth drawing into a thin line as he comes to a halt.

“What is it?” Jisung asks. His startled tone reveals that Felix might be perturbed.

“They’re expecting us,” Felix says, gazing ahead as if he can see your destination through all the foliage. “They’re already preparing our wedding.”

“What?” you and Jisung say at the same time. You look at each other then you ask, “Did you tell them already?” Felix only proposed yesterday and he has not returned to the faerie realm, unless he snuck away overnight, but you don’t think so. He spent the night with you and Jisung, Jisung insisting on being the little spoon between two big spoons. Felix had his arm around Jisung and his hand in yours all night.

“No,” Felix answers. “I didn’t say anything yet.”

“This feels spoooooky,” Jisung sings, then laughs nervously.

“Maybe,” Felix says with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Maybe not. Let’s go.”

You and Jisung exchange another look, but you have gone too far to turn around, so you follow Felix. He leads you to a red-bricked path that thickens with moss the further you walk. When you reach the base of a hill, Felix stops to hold your hand.

“Don’t look back until I say,” he says. “You could fall. Keep your eyes on me or the cat. She knows the way too.”

The cat is running around your feet, mewling, though the clack of its jaws is louder than its airy voice. You decide to look at Felix instead. Apparently Jisung picks the cat because he coos, “Aww, she’s kinda cute in a freaky way. What’s her name?”

“Babyeater,” Felix says.

“Oh nooo,” Jisung replies.

You follow Felix and the cat up an incline that grows so steep that at one point you are walking perpendicular to the forest below. You look at Felix the whole time, squeezing his hand tightly. His returned squeeze is reassuring. You remind yourself this is Felix, the same boy who kissed your scraped knees better, who sat through all your childhood tea parties even though he never really understood the concept of playing pretend, the same boy who has dutifully and lovingly obliged your every whim, however much he failed to understand its human purpose. For Felix, it was always enough if it made you happy.

He leads you safely over the crest of the hill, then it’s just a few more steps through a darker patch of woods before you are stepping into a huge clearing, bright and orange and gold. Three massive, broad trees stand in the distance, an elaborate stone citadel built around the trunks. There are faeries and other supernatural entities wandering around an autumnal garden, some scurrying with bundles of lights and candles and drapery. The clearing and castle have been beautifully and frightfully decorated with pumpkins and dried flowers and bones.

“Is this for us?” Jisung asks. “Uh, I mean, for you?”

“It looks like it,” Felix says uncertainly. “I don’t know how they—”

Jisung screams, a proper shrill yell right in your ear, when something bursts out of some shrubbery and blocks his path. You stumble back with wide-eyed surprise and Jisung instinctively shields you even in his terror. Felix is not scared, his face neutral as ever, but his connection to Jisung has him reacting similarly, guarding you with his body.

An eyeless husk straightens itself, bony limbs stretching for the sky. You hear the crack of a neck-bone and the flutter of leaves, then all at a once a glamour settles over the faerie, revealing a handsome young man with short brown hair and dark eyes.

“He’s still loud,” the faerie says. “You were loud as a baby too. Wahhh-wahhhh-wahhhhhh—”

“Seungmin,” Felix says, nonplussed. “Thank you for the raven.”

Felix bows and the faerie, Seungmin, who must be the aforementioned brother, bows back as per the dictation of decorum.

“Chan is mad he had to find out the news from Hyunjin,” Seungmin says, his mouth quirked in a smirky little half-smile. “You better to be ready to grovel.”

“Ah,” Felix says. He looks over at you and Jisung who are clinging to each other, still wide-eyed with surprise. “Hyunjin is a prince from the spring court,” Felix says. “He can see the future.”

“Oh,” Jisung says. “Yeah, sure, makes sense.” He looks at you with a face that says, it definitely does not make sense.

“Spring court,” Seungmin says with a little eye-roll. “They burst in here with a dramatic fuss like always. It’s embarrassing that the high prince of autumn learned about his favourite little brother’s engagement from a different court...”

“I can’t help that Hyunjin sees the future,” Felix says, more disgruntled than you have ever heard him. It occurs to you, as you look between him and Seungmin, that Felix stands out here just as much as he did in the human world. It is different, as here it is the little cracks of humanity that fracture his faerie face. Not just the glamour, the freckles or his clothes, but some intrinsic bearing. Maybe it is the sameness to Jisung, the way they block you with the same stance, the way they shuffle on the same foot. Maybe it’s something else, but it is suddenly pronounced.

Seungmin does not appear to notice Felix’s tone. He just gives another bow which Felix is forced to return. You see Jisung twitching and you squeeze his hand.

“You don’t have to bow,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says, then bobs twice in an aborted half-bow.

You sigh. You jump when Jisung shrieks again, startled by a little leaf-dog that comes running out of the shrubbery. It is being pursued by some frantic sprites. They yammer at the puppy in a faerie tongue as it starts to chase the cat. All their bones are clattering as they run around, cat then dog then sprites. Seungmin blinks at the fiasco then looks at Felix.

“Let’s go,” Seungmin says. He turns and gives you a bow, as is polite, then looks at Jisung and says, “Boo!”

Jisung jumps and Seungmin cackles, bowing.

Felix gives Seungmin a little shove, his mouth a grim line again.

You follow Seungmin further into the garden, coming upon a feast that seems to be currently underway even while servants continue to set the party around the guests. Food appears and disappears off the table, some faeries eating and some of them throwing food at the servants. You have heard stories of ensorcelled human servants being trapped in places like this, but you only see faeries so far. It doesn’t put you at ease exactly, but you don’t feel quite as frightened.

Then all the faerie guests at the grand table stop and look at you. Then you are frightened.

“Hi,” Jisung squeaks.

It is nervously and thoughtlessly blurted, but it would be impolite to ignore it, so a chorus of “hi” and “hello” circles the table in return.

Most of them have a glamour of some kind. A stockier, handsome faerie with bright orange hair stands. He is on the other side of the long banquet table but manifests in front of you in mere seconds. You are very alarmed to find him wearing bandages under a black army coat, the white wraps stained with blood. It is very at odds with his deeply dimpled smile.

“Hi there,” he says, looking past Jisung and straight at you. “Wow, Felix really did it. Welcome. Call me Chan. Sorry for the, ah, blood, I think it upsets humans?” This apology seems sincere enough, accompanied with a tilt of the head, but he offers no further explanation. He pulls you into an embrace, tucking you into the fold of one muscular arm, and laughing with an unexpectedly adorable giggliness. “We have a human little sister. That’s fun, yeah?” He looks at the table and everyone nods and claps, only a few characters mutely unresponsive.

You smile, maybe. It feels a bit boxy. Your brain is fitting all the pieces together, recalling that Seungmin referred to Chan as the high prince of autumn. Chan is thus the highest font of power in this faerie court and he is hugging you.

The hug pulls you away from Jisung who moves closer to Felix. You look at them, watching as they hold hands, trying to convey with your eyes that you would rather be with them.

There is no time for any extraction attempt because a fuss stirs at one end of the table. A pink-haired faerie bursts out of his seat. He is long-limbed, tall and spindly, and he runs around the huge table at a fairly human speed. He is wearing a billowy green jacket and a long string of pearls, his pastel appearance at some odds to the deepness of the autumn court.

“Hey Fee-lix! Heeey!” he says, very literally bouncing when he reaches Felix.

“Aha, hi, Hyunjin,” Felix says.

“You brought humans!” Hyunjin says, sweeping down to look at Jisung, then turning his dark-eyed stare to you. His glamour is astonishingly beautiful, as bright as his pearls, a face like a handsome marble statue and a supermodel’s stature. But he slinks like a ferret, as smirky as a fox. “The bride,” he says with something of a wistful sigh. His dark eyes are sparkling. “A faerie and a human. How romantic. I love romance.”

Then you are freed from hugging Chan, but only because Hyunjin cups your face in both hands and kisses you. Not a greeting kiss either, but a deep kiss. You sputter when he licks you.

“Um,” Jisung squeaks.

“This is High Prince Hyunjin. Of the spring court, of course,” Chan says amiably, not doing anything to stop the high prince of the spring court from sucking face with his brother’s bride.

Hyunjin stops on his own, smiling at you fondly. “Pretty girl,” he says, stroking his whole hand over your face. “I wish I could marry you.” This is spoken without much longing, but it must be true or he couldn’t say it.

He turns his sights on Jisung next. Jisung straightens, eyes darting around for an escape.

“The changeling baby,” Hyunjin says. “He’s so cute now. Can I marry this one, Felix?”

Jisung’s eyes widen, looking at Felix, then at you.

Felix looks unamused. “No,” he says simply.

Hyunjin pouts, slinking up to Jisung. He grabs his face, long fingers grasping him tight. Jisung’s lips part with surprise, his cheeks puffing when Hyunjin shakes his head around.

“That’s not fair,” Hyunjin says. “You already have one.”

“I said no,” Felix repeats.

Hyunjin just sighs. “I knew you’d say that,” he says. “Oh well.” Then he kisses Jisung full on the mouth too, Jisung squeaking through the very wet onslaught. Hyunjin just smiles and strokes his face, then goes back to the table.

Hyunjin’s self-introduction triggers a similar desire in the remaining guests. Soon they are swarming you, forced into the vaguest semblance of a queue when Chan waves a demanding hand. You meet Felix’s mother, who smiles and coos at you like she didn’t mandate a wife in the first place. You meet Changbin, another half-brother of Felix, who thankfully follows the example set by Chan and not Hyunjin and simply hugs you. He is so burly and strong that it lifts you off your feet, but he has enough restraint not to crush you, so that’s something.

There are clusters of other faeries, all noisy, all dipping in bows or trying to kiss you, and all of them from the spring or autumn court. A hush falls over the garden when the remaining guests approach for an introduction. Felix finally appears at your side, Jisung too, standing on either side of you and holding your hands.

“Winter and Summer,” Felix whispers as two courtly fae and their retinues step forward.

You know very well why Felix deigns to warn you. The autumn court and spring court, as per their seasonal equivalents, are shifting and transitory in many ways; they grow and they learn, and they often host humans, be it in a generous or malicious capacity. The winter and summer courts are hostile to change, and both have little to do with humans at all. Whatever human encounters have transpired in those courts have left few survivors to speak of it.

Their glamours fit them strangely, like new clothes not yet broken in. The first prince wears his glamour like a boy forced into dress clothes by a parent, walking with a stiff sort of discomfort. His robes are coloured blue and yellow, long and loose, his blonde hair turning dark blue at the root. His dimples are deep and cheekbones very sharp, and when he smiles he reveals a whole row of long, piercing teeth that he forgot to glamour altogether.

You jump, staring aghast as the otherwise too-pretty prince sweeps into a bow. He looks at Chan, sees him smiling, and copies the expression with a frightful brightness.

“Prince Jeongin,” Felix says. He squeezes your hand, reminding you to bow back. You do so swiftly. “Summer.”

“High Prince,” Jeongin says, laughing for some reason, a wheezing sound.

“You have fourteen older brothers,” Felix says.

“Had.” Jeongin smiles again, his dimples deepening, his teeth glittering. “I ate them.”

“Oh,” Felix says. There is a pause as he looks at you then looks at Jeongin. Your face reveals terror, you are certain, but Jeongin is waiting expectantly. Felix weighs his words and says, “Uh. You must be happy to be congratulated.”

You wonder how you ever thought Felix was strange. He seems so normal suddenly, the only one who finds something wrong with a person eating fourteen brothers. If he did approve, he would not have to word his congratulations so strangely to avoid a lie.

Unless he just did that to appease you, a small voice says in the back of your head. A different truth is not a lie.

You wish you were not such an overthinker. This is Felix. Your Felix. Yours, yours. As much yours as Jisung, who is breathing a little heavier, so it makes Felix breathe heavier, and their combined strain has you close to panting as well.

You are thus all breathless when you meet the final prince, introduced as High Prince Minho of the winter court. He is wearing dark clothes, apparently sans his usual furry winter accoutrements, and his glamour is a barely-there mask that vanishes when the light hits him at certain angles. He wears it like a loosely tied scarf, grudgingly donned. He has not glamoured his eyes, mismatched and vibrant and vacant of all human emotion. He does not smile when he bows. Like Jeongin, he does not hug or kiss you.

He looks you over, his stare raking, then he does the same to Jisung. Whatever he sees makes him laugh, though it is a derisive sound. Then he looks at Felix and says, “They’re fragile. Be careful, changeling.”

When he leaves, Jisung whispers, “Honestly, that last one got me kinda hard.”

“Yeah,” Felix says, unhappily, “I know.”

And just like that, you are trying very hard not to laugh.

You look at Felix and find his returned gaze to be very affectionate. You always thought his regards looked a little too precise, like he was concentrating on forming the appropriate expression, but compared to certain toothy grins and cold laughs, Felix looks positively alight with sentiment. He still looks strange in his t-shirt and jeans, but you think he might look strange anyway.

It never occurred to you before that Felix’s changeling life might have made him an oddity on both sides of the veil.

You feel a pang of sympathy, suddenly.

Felix looks down at where you are holding his hand. You see his gaze flit across to where you hold Jisung’s hand as well. It exacerbates that pang in your chest, recalling your own jealousy when you found them kissing, plus all the years spent wishing you shared their magical connection. It never occurred to you that Felix might feel some type of way about you dating Jisung, about you and Jisung both being human. Maybe it reminded he was an outcast wherever he went. Always very close to being part of something, never quite belonging.

Funny enough, Jisung has always been significantly more blasé. He sets his sights on what he wants and it never occurs to him that he will not have it. He has Felix, he dates you, you marry Felix, he lives forever. You look at your human boyfriend, at the way his dark eyes seem to sparkle as he looks around the garden. You think somehow, despite his occasional shrieks and frights, he looks more home here than Felix.

“Right then!” Chan suddenly claps in your face, startling you. “It’s wedding time, yeah? We’ve never had a human wedding here before but Hyunjin is an expert so he helped us out…”

Two faerie servants rip you away from Felix and Jisung. Hyunjin follows you, looking very keen, his hands clasped behind his back but his whole face lit up brightly. His eagerness does not put you at ease, nor are you reassured by his seemingly “expert” advice. Seeing as he thought it was appropriate to introduce himself by making out with you, you sincerely doubt he is the human expert he has proclaimed himself to be.

Sure enough, the slapdash preparations are very random. You are shoved into a very pretty dress, but then Hyunjin attempts to adorn you with both a veil and a headpiece, and you can see an array of other accessories from international wedding regalia. Being as polite as possible, you decline the offer to any headpiece at all.

“Wow,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face. “You are so humble. Humans are so amazing, the way they just let themselves be ugly. Wow. Wow. I won’t interfere with your hideous but humble head. Should we kiss again?”

“I think it’s better we don’t,” you say. “It might wrinkle the dress?”

He nods sagely. “That would be bad,” he agrees. “Especially because your head is so bare and horrible. The dress is doing all the work. Can I put flowers in your hair or do you really prefer to be ugly?”

“Uh, flowers, yeah, sure,” you say. He says everything so frankly that you somehow can’t feel offended. A compliment would feel just as meaningless.

“I’ve always wanted to attend a human wedding,” Hyunjin says. “You know, spring is a very popular time for human weddings. But humans are always dying so fast after, so it makes me sad to watch them properly.”

“You feel sadness?” you ask. Though Hyunjin and Felix seem quite different, perhaps you can glean an answer to the depth of faerie emotions. Especially considering this marriage business feels like an entirely different beast now that you are in a wedding dress with an entire congregation of faeries sitting in a garden waiting for you. It seemed like a simpler affair when it was just Felix and Jisung in a café booth.

“Oh, of course,” Hyunjin says. “I feel sad all the time. I feel sad right now because you aren’t marrying me.” He says this with a great deal of joviality, smiling at you like he’s proud of his supposed sadness.

You decide not to ask more questions on that front, because you doubt his answers will be very helpful. You do enquire after the wedding festivities. You try not to frown at the very random assemblage of traditions he has baked into a single ceremony. It sounds like a tedious affair but you decide to brace it, supposing it could be worse.

“Then we all watch the royal consummation,” Hyunjin says casually, adding another flower to your hair.

You grab his wrist without thinking, stopping him.

“Did I stab you?” he asks, blowing on your head to check for blood. “Sorry. I keep forgetting pins in heads kill humans.” He says this with a lot of exasperation, like it’s a personal inconvenience to him that humans die so easily.

“No, it’s not that,” you say. He pops another peony on your head, manifesting the little buds out of thin air. “What do you mean ‘we all watch the royal consummation?’ Who is ‘we’?”

“The high princes, obviously,” he says, tucking a rose behind your ear.

You stare ahead, mouth hanging open.

Yesterday seems so long ago now, but Jisung and Felix did explain to you that the autumn court required an act of consummation to legitimize the marriage. Apparently it has nothing to do with virginity or rearing heirs, mostly functioning as a ritual for the sake of itself. Once faeries decide something is a rule they must follow it.

You were very hot in the face the entire conversation. Jisung seemed content to describe the way you need would have sex with his changeling faerie, but you were too embarrassed to meet either gaze.

Maybe it would have been easier if you did not want to sleep with Felix. If it was just a necessity, it would be meaningless.

But you very much do desire Felix, even if he only smiled blithely during the discussion. He seemed unaffected while you were very flustered.

This is a very different type of flustered.

“I was not told there would be an audience,” you finally say.

“There isn’t usually,” Hyunjin says. “But that’s how human princes do it, if I remember. A whole council watches. Felix doesn’t have a council, though, so we’ll have to do it. It would be very rude not to indulge your human traditions. There! All done.”

He steps back to admire your appearance. You are still frazzled from the conversation, from the strong floral scent that is now wrapped around you, from everything.

“You look—” Hyunjin pauses, then, “—not horrible at all! I did a very good job. Now the wedding can start. I’ll tell Chan to start killing the sacrificial wedding goats. We only have one and it’s made of leaves and bones but I assumed that would be okay with you. This way we can just keep killing the same one over and over again. I’ll be right back.”

“Can I—” You feel panicked. You need to see Jisung. Hyunjin has you sequestered in some little golden alcove. You do not want to be hunted down if you just flee, so you ask, “Can I go look at myself in a mirror?”

“You’re testing me,” Hyunjin says, his long fingers covering his mouth with a surprised gasp. Then he giggles. “I passed! I know you can’t look at the bride before the wedding. Wait here!” Then he disappears out the gate and around the corner.

You sit down in a huff and close your eyes. You try counting backwards from one hundred to calm yourself, but you reach the low twenties and still feel tense.

Then you hear the patter of human footsteps. You know it is a human because faeries scarcely disturb the ground where they walk. You hear the crunch of leaves and lift your head, feeling a rush of relief with Jisung pokes his head into the alcove.

“There you are,” he says. “Felix is – uh – they’re getting him – dressed – and I wanted – wanted you—”

You stand as he talks, as his voice drifts, as his breath catches. He looks down the length of your dress then back up, his dark eyes watery as he exhales with a gut-punching whoosh.

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he says. “This – this feels weird. I know it’s – weird. But it’s not – it’s not wrong, right? It’s just weird. But weird isn’t bad. It’s just—”

“Weird,” you say, with a little laugh. “Yeah. I know.”

He smiles softly. He wore his glasses here but he has since put in contacts. His hair is neatly styled and he changed into slightly nicer clothes, still human world, but very handsome in his black pants and black shirt. He is so handsome that for a moment you forget about all your worries, taking a step towards him with your hand extended. He catches that hand, bringing it to his shoulder. He sweeps you into a kiss that banishes all your bad thoughts, the familiar taste and feel of him engulfing you. You sink your fingers in his hair, parting your lips under the press of his mouth.

It's him who ends the kiss, breathlessly, stuttering, “S-sorry, wait. I came here to tell – to tell you – the consummation – that pink guy—”

“I know,” you say with a cringe. You bury your face in his neck. “Ugh, a bunch of faeries are gonna watch me have sex.”

“Faeries and me!” he says with a nervous laugh.

“Huh!”

“I tried to stop it, but no one would really listen to me,” he says. “Someone only listened when I said it was weird for a guy to watch his little brother have sex, and some people agreed, so Prince Chan said I should take his place, since there were no faeries of equal rank to him and at least I was human.” He slaps a hand to his forehead. “Sorry. I tried.”

“Oh, Jisung,” you say, giggling a little helplessly at your morose boyfriend. “How do you get yourself into these situations?”

“You’re wearing a wedding dress!” he replies.

“That’s only because I know you!”

“Your life would have been very boring without me,” Jisung says, smiling.

“I know,” you say. “It would have been awful.”

Because for as strange as all this faerie nonsense is, you cannot imagine a world where you never knew Jisung, where you never knew Felix, where you never had this love in your life, as messy and jealous and complicated as it has been at times.

You tip your head, gazing into Jisung’s eyes. He shivers when you twirl a bit of his hair around your finger.

“Jisungie,” you say, thinking of your own jealousy, of Felix’s confounding glances. “Do you ever feel jealous at all?”

“Of what?” he asks, totally innocent.

“I don’t know,” you say. You are not sure how to explain it without seeming ridiculous, which puts it into some perspective. “I mean, me and Felix are about to… you know.”

“Uh, yeah. That’s okay. I don’t want to have sex in front of the cannibal faerie,” Jisung says, making you laugh. “Not a joke!”

“I know, I know.” You kiss his cheek.

“I couldn’t be jealous of you two,” he says, looking contemplative, as if this has never really occurred to him before. Then he looks at you a bit sheepishly, his gaze skittish in how it darts around.

“What?” you ask, recognizing his shy mischief.

“I think it’s… uh… kinda hot?” He rubs the back of his neck. “I love you and I guess I also love that stupid faerie boy. And… maybe… I kinda wanna see…”

You feel very hot again.

“You, um, want to watch Felix fuck me?” you ask, frankly as you can.

“Yes.” He stares straight up, his ears gone completely red and his cheeks turning pink. “I think you’ll look hot together. I was kinda hoping we’d do something like this one day. I mean, the cannibal faerie is a surprise, but other than that…”

You kiss him. His arms circle your waist and he tugs you close, the kiss deepening naturally. You let all your flustered embarrassment fizzle away, thinking about Felix, thinking about Jisung. You get a bit handsy, squeezing Jisung’s biceps then resting your hands on his chest. He makes a little sound into the kiss, one of his needy whimpers. It never fails to light you up.

“I’m nervous,” you say, speaking low, against his lips. “Thinking about so many of them watching me and Felix…”

It is clear by his gulp and frantic nod that Jisung finds the scenario sexier than he should. “Yeah, baby,” he says. “What can I do?”

You know the faeries will be occupied with Hyunjin’s myriad of rituals for a while, so you peck his lips and ask, “Get me ready?”

“Ready,” he repeats. His gaze jumps up to the flowers in your hair. “You are ready.”

“Not like that,” you say.

Jisung really does his best to be appropriate, but he gets pussy-drunk faster than any man you have ever known. A suggestion is all it takes. You tap his shoulder and he obediently drops to his knees.

“Baby,” he says in a reverent whisper, sighing, eyes closing when you run your fingers through his hair.

Heavy-lidded and so seemingly submissive to your desire, Jisung looks up at you. Then he reaches past you, grabs the chair by the leg, and yanks. He is not too gentle, spilling you onto it with a forceful nudge.

You know Jisung does nothing by halves. He is singular in his passions. You ask him to kneel, so he kneels, so he closes his eyes, so he opens his mouth. He pushes your dress out of his way and licks through your panties until the fabric is sticky and you are so so wet that it clings to you. Your thighs tremble and he whimpers softly, high and light in the back of his throat.

“Jisungie…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” he says in a raspy voice, drawing the fabric aside. “It’s okay. Don’t cry. I’ve got you, baby.”

He speaks so sweetly, like he is incapable of being mean, even while he torments you with long, twisting strokes of his tongue, never committing to a single pattern. It is a storm of sensation, rolling through you over and over again. You are so sensitive that slightest nudge feels like a miniature orgasm all on its own. You gasp and whine, trying and failing to close your legs around his head.

“Jisuuung,” you say, your voice rough. “We don’t have much time, I need to come…”

He moans when he buries his tongue in you, when he licks messily up past your clit and back down again. You grab his hair and tug, though it does nothing to deter him.

“Your husband can make you come later,” he says, giggling an inch from your pussy. “I’m just warming you up…”

“Please,” you say, “please, please, please.”

“Hmm?” is his reply, then he sighs and dives back.

Your eyes close, brow furrowing in concentration. You rock your hips against his mouth as he finally starts circling your clit with a single-minded resolve. You feel flushed and shaky, pleasure and heat coursing through you, and you know you must look as ravaged as you feel.

You open your eyes and see Felix standing in the entryway. He looks astonishingly beautiful, his long blonde hair neatly styled back, his freckles pronounced and eyes so dark. Long earrings made of sparkling orange gems dangle from his ears, looking at once like rippling flames and water running over bronze. He is dressed in an approximation of a tuxedo, except the pants are leather and the shirt and blazer are cropped too short.

He tips his head, his eyes on Jisung for a moment. Then he holds your gaze unflinchingly, maybe daringly. His smile appears slowly. It is too gentle to be lecherous, tender despite the fact his gloved hand runs over his belt and tugs. His tongue touches his bottom lip and he tips his head the other way.

His presence startles you for a moment. You should feel caught, or embarrassed, or something. But the initial surprise fades and you just stare back at him. You dig your fingers into Jisung’s hair and breathe harder as he strokes and strokes and strokes you with his tongue.

Felix exhales. His smile is still soft. He lifts a darkly gloved hand and gestures to you, curling two fingers, a suggestive come here.

Then Jisung’s hand goes from your thigh to your pussy, two fingers curling inside you without any resistance. Felix’s smile curves into a pleased, satisfied smirk. He nods.

You come, holding Jisung’s face against your pussy, letting him moan and whimper with his own pleasure as you roughly fuck his mouth. When he lifts his head, his mouth is so obscenely wet that you throb with a renewed ache of desire.

“I think you’re ready now,” Jisung says. He lowers your legs and slowly slides his fingers out of you. Your breath catches, swallowing up a sound of a surprise when he uses both thumbs to spread your pussy open to his gaze – his and Felix. Your head feels fuzzy and not with faerie magic.

“I think so,” Felix says.

Jisung does not seem surprised by his voice. He lets you go, your dress falling back over your lap. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and looks over his shoulder at Felix. Felix approaches, his steps silent despite his big black boots.

You watch. Jisung’s bottom lip twitches. He looks up at Felix with the same hazy intoxication he looked at you. Felix bites the tip of a glove, pulling the fabric off with his teeth, then he swipes his thumb across Jisung’s glistening mouth. Felix brings that thumb to his own bottom lip, his tongue only just swiping the tip of it.

Then Hyunjin struts into the alcove and slaps a shocked hand over his mouth.

“What are you doing?” he demands. You think he is going to remark on the man kneeling at your feet, not to mention your sexually dishevelled appearance, but then he says, “Felix. You’re supposed to have a hat.”

“I don’t need a hat, Hyunjin,” Felix says with a sigh. “I would like to talk to my bride for a minute.”

“That is impossible,” Hyunjin says. “You need a hat. Come with me.”

It occurs to you that you are watching the two most emotional faeries in their courts, even if those emotions are aimed in strange directions, like hats. Because Hyunjin is very adamant and Felix is very annoyed. You are more than a little concerned that if things come to a head, it will turn horrifying without much effort.

Then Jisung leaps to his feet and puts himself between the two faerie princes. It surprises everyone to silence. Even Hyunjin stumbles to a stop. He cocks his head like a predator regards a measly scrap of prey, eyes flashing as he takes a menacing step forward.

Felix has no time to react. You have no chance to scream.

Jisung is a step ahead of everyone.

He bows. Hyunjin stumbles to a stop for a second time. It takes him a second to realize what has happened but when he does his eye twitches. He bows back, then straightens with a huff.

Jisung bows again. You slap a hand over your mouth to hide your surprised laugh. Hyunjin looks far less amused. Glaring, he bows too, as per the rules of politeness.

Jisung leaps to the side and bows again, forcing Hyunjin to follow him. He does this twice more, leading Hyunjin to the exit, bowing back and forth the whole time.

“Make him stop!” Hyunjin shrieks.

“Okay, okay!” Jisung says, hands raised in surrender. He bows one more time, swooping low, then he turns and runs as fast as he can.

Hyunjin, obliged to return the bow, goes chasing after him with a frantic yelp.

“Is he gonna be okay?” you ask, springing to your feet. You dress falls neatly down.

“Yes,” Felix says. “Hyunjin won’t hurt humans. He likes them too much.” He turns to you then, his expression returned to a more passive neutrality, though you do not miss the way he looks you over. “Will you be okay?” he asks. “I’m sorry. I thought we would have more time when we got here. I didn’t know they would do this.”

“It’s okay,” you say, too shy for a conversation after he very much watched you orgasm. “Um. Might as well, I guess… get it out of the way.”

“Yes.” He frowns at this, turning aside. “You want to… get it out of the way. I understand. I’m sorry it had to be this way. You don’t want to marry me.”

He says it so plainly and without any hesitation. He must believe it is the absolute truth. For a moment, you can only stare at him, his handsome profile, the tendrils of sadness that tug at his features. How did you never see it before?

“Felix,” you say gently. He does not look at you. You touch his arm and he looks at your hand. “Felix, I am happy to marry you. I love you.” He looks up at that, his brow furrowed. “And Jisung,” you add. “I’m… I’m glad it happened this way. So that you and I—” He turns to you and your heart skips a few beats, affected by the warmth of his steady gaze. “So that you and I could come together as well. And now the three of us—”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, then looks aside. “I’m sorry. That was forward, yeah? I just… don’t want the first time to be out there. Is that strange? To be honest, sometimes I don’t know what’s strange or what isn’t. The rules are different everywhere, you know? I don’t think I’m doing a good job of this. I’m sorry. We don’t have to—”

You cup his face and kiss him. It is very stiff for a moment, because you are both surprised by your brazen action. He somehow grounds himself first, a careful hand curling around your hip to guide you a little closer. A breath passes between you then he kisses you back.

You touch his chest, making a sweet small sound into the kiss when his lips slide so softly against yours. You are about to deepen it when Jisung interrupts with, “Aww, you’re kissing! So cute!”

You and Felix look over at him. His hands are clasped and he is gushing as only Jisung can.

“I thought you were running,” Felix says, with a hint of amusement.

“Stupid labyrinth led me back here,” Jisung says. He mimes zipping his lips shut and gestures to you. “Keep kissing. Pretend I’m not here.”

“I wouldn’t want to pretend that,” Felix says, so sincerely that Jisung’s eyes widen. They look at each other for a long moment, then Felix looks at you. He cups your face.

Then Hyunjin comes running in. He swings his arms in a dramatic flail and flower petals fly everywhere. The leaf dog comes running in and starts nipping at the air, trying to catch the petals. In the midst of this chaos, Hyunjin storms up to Jisung and promptly bows. Then he shoves him to the side and grabs Felix by the arm.

“Hat!” he shouts. “Now!”

It is a twenty-six hour wedding ceremony. You and Jisung fall asleep halfway through festivity number twelve, curled up under a furry blanket near a fire pit. You wake when Felix lifts your head into his lap. Jisung is already curled up with his head on your belly, so you smile and snuggle into Felix. He cups your face and strokes your cheek, the flickering firelight casting shadows on his face, making his smile seem bigger than usual.

The consummation ritual is last. It takes place inside the castle, in a beautiful room that appears to have been designed for this express purpose. The mossy stone walls are decorated with dried flowers, the plush bed laden with thick red throws and burgundy cushions. Despite the tall open windows, there is no autumn chill, a lit fireplace cozying the room with its warmth.

It would be a lovely chamber if not for the translucent curtain with a literal audience behind it. The winter and summer princes sit ramrod straight, so uninterested in their surroundings that it actually puts you at ease. Hyunjin looks… a little too eager to be honest, but you aren’t convinced he understands this ritual anymore than anything else today.

Jisung is side-eying Jeongin, who is sitting beside him because Hyunjin refused to sit by ‘the annoying changeling brat’. Minho is sitting between Jeongin and Hyunjin, casting the occasional side-eye to the spring prince. Despite his stoic countenance, his displeasure with the company is clear.

Honestly, the whole tableau is quite comedic. You find yourself trying to stifle laughter when Felix finally arrives. You were sent to separate rooms to undress and change into robes, but you arrived here first. Felix looks at you curiously, clearly perplexed by your laughter.

“You’re not nervous anymore,” he observes.

“No,” you say. “I’ve just been thinking like a faerie.”

He tilts his head at that. You smile and kiss him, a chaste kiss that makes his lashes flutter. The little reaction tickles a flurry of butterflies in your belly. You hold his hand and lead him to the bed where you sit down. His eyes shift with a nervous scuttle, but he follows the direction of your hand when you gesture to him.

You keep your eyes on his, intensely locked as you lift his hand and take two fingers in your mouth. When you close your lips around his fingers and gently suck, his breath catches. It echoes in Jisung.

Then Jeongin whispers loudly, “Is she going to eat him?” He sounds moderately intrigued.

“Be quiet,” Hyunjin replies.

“I think it’s over,” Minho says, catching onto your ruse before anyone else.

You smile and open your eyes. You separate from Felix and turn your head to the silhouettes beyond the curtain.

“A penetrative performance,” you state. “I believe that was the requirement. And I believe that should qualify.”

You are stretching the meaning of those words and you know it, but that’s what faeries do. His fingers ‘penetrated’ the breach of your mouth, so it should count on the most technical level.

“All done,” you say with a smile and wave.

“So you’re not eating him?” Jeongin says, frowning.

Minho is the first one to stand. He flicks Jeongin’s forehead as he passes, but otherwise says nothing before fleeing the room. Jeongin follows with a slightly disgruntled shuffle, then Hyunjin stomps his foot.

“Humans,” he says, marching past Jisung.

The door closes behind Hyunjin. Jisung claps a hand over his mouth and laughs into it, so hard he has to put a hand over his stomach as he doubles over. Felix laughs too, a pleasantly low rumble that he tries to stifle with a cough. You smile up at him, leaning back on your palms and admiring him in the warm orange light. He tucks some hair behind his ear, regarding you with a very tender gaze when he nods his head in a curt little bow.

“All done,” he says. It makes your brow furrow: the little shift in tone, the tension that still draws his shoulders back. You realize that even after everything, he is still uncertain about his place. Even Jisung knows where he belongs, not for a moment thinking he should leave the room, but Felix takes a step away from the bed like he intends to do just that.

You grab his hand, drawing his attention back to you. Blonde hair falls around his face, shadowing it. He doesn’t quite meet your eyes, gaze somewhere on your chin.

“Felix,” you say. His fingers tighten around yours and it feels like a question. You answer by tugging that hand, drawing him closer. His eyes flash gold when you drop his hand to open your robe. This time you can hear Jisung’s sharp breath too, all laughter subsiding as you let the robe fall off your shoulders, laying yourself bare before Felix.

He looks awed but stricken. You can see when he swallows. He looks at Jisung then back at you, his brow furrowing. His lips twitch in a bid to speak but no words come.

It would be funny, this supernatural being somehow struck dumb by you in your most vulnerable state, but your smile is more affectionate than amused.

“Felix,” you say again. “Have you ever done something like this before?”

He shakes his head frantically, his eyes still running up and down your body.

“No,” he says. “Uh, no. No. I can – feel something when Jisung – when you – I mean—” He chokes on an awkward laugh, turning away for a second.

“I fucking knew it!” Jisung says, poking his head between the folds of the curtain. “Bro, you’re such a liar. I asked if you could feel when we fuck and you said no!”

“I can’t lie,” Felix replies, turning to Jisung. He forgets to be embarrassed while arguing, very plainly and patiently stating his case. “I told you most faeries don’t think about sex like humans and that I couldn’t be certain what you were doing, yeah? And I can’t. And I would have told you more but you only asked the first time and I didn’t know you were going to keep… being with her. And I – I didn’t want to make things awkward… for you… okay? By thinking of me every time… so I just… What are you smiling at?” His deep voice breaks, pitching comically higher for a second.

Jisung is smirking and nodding, just a floating head with a vague silhouetted body behind the curtain.

“Man,” Jisung says, “you’ve been acting like a monk but secretly jacking it while we get freaky in the other room… That’s naughty.”

Felix draws his mouth into a flat line then looks at you for help. You are trying to hold in your giggles, lips pressed tight together. When he looks at you, you exhale, waving at Jisung to back down for a second. He ducks behind the curtain again, giggling to himself like the menace he is.

Fortunately, Felix is easy to distract. All it takes is opening your legs for his all his attention to zero in there. He swallows again.

“Sounds like we’ve been teasing you too long,” you say, your voice drawing his eyes back up to your face. You smile and beckon him forward. “Come on. Let me make it up to you.”

He looks like he is going to deflect politely, either because he is a faerie or because he is Felix, but then you grab his robe and yank him closer. He stumbles up to you, his fingers fluttering at his sides and his shoulders still tense. You take one of his hands and place it on the side of your face, soothing him with another gentle smile as you unknot his robe.

He is already very hard and this seems to fluster him, but he points to the curtain and sputters, “He’s – touching—“

“Fuck yeah I am,” Jisung says.

“Jisung, shh,” you say, trying not to giggle again. “And slow down. You’re always so impatient.”

“Am not,” Jisung says, but you can see him lean back, folding his hands behind his head.

You look up at Felix, holding his gaze the way you did when you sucked his fingers. You like the way he twitches and breathes harder, the way his eyes flash, the way his jaw clenches. His thumb curls under your jaw when your mouth slides over him. You can’t help but moan when his whole face contorts with more natural emotion than you have ever seen from him. His breath stutters and stops and starts, his sounds so low and guttural that you feel them inside you.

“Oh, fuck, dude,” Jisung says, rasping. You pull back just a little, drooling and stroking with your hand, and glancing at Jisung out of the corner of your eye. He lifts his hips and squeezes himself over his pants. “We were fucking torturing you, holy fuck.”

“Mmmmrrgh,” is the approximate sound Felix makes. His eyes are partially-lidded, his expression one of immense concentration. He pulls your face back to him with a flick of his wrist. Appetent and quite demanding, he leads your mouth back onto him and holds you in place to shallowly and gently fuck your mouth. He makes a pleased sound, one of deep relief, his head lolling back and the tension leaving his shoulders.

You let him set the pace, matching the animal instinct that overcomes him. He stops himself when he’s close, breathing hard and stepping back. You want to ask if he is okay, but you have to flex your jaw and your voice is momentarily shot. Before you can find that voice, he turns to the curtain and says, “Show me what you did earlier. I want – I want to do that too.”

There is a quiet moment, Jisung maybe surprised at the sudden attention, but then the curtain parts and Jisung steps all the way through. He has unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, his partially unzipped pants doing nothing to hide the bulge behind his fly. The sight of him sets off more sparks, especially when he winks at you with all his cheeky wantonness.

Felix gives Jisung a once-over too, pushing a hand through his hair and steadying his breathing. His features look sharper than ever, darkened with a determined resolve. He says nothing when Jisung sweeps behind him. Jisung wiggles his eyebrows at you while he gathers Felix’s robe and slides it off his shoulders.

“She likes your freckles,” Jisung offers by way of explanation, smooching Felix’s freckled shoulder with a playful little mwah.

Felix tilts his head and looks at you. “Really?” he asks. “I can’t fully scrub them off the glamour. I think it’s somehow your fault.” This is aimed at Jisung.

“Everything’s my fault!” Jisung says with a great deal of pride.

“Why would you want to get rid of them?” you blurt, showing just as much as horror as you did when meeting the cannibal faerie. Felix without his freckles is equally abhorrent.

Felix looks at you, thoughtfully. Firelight is flickering over the room but you do not think it is a trick of shadow when his freckles seem to darken everywhere.

“Aw,” Jisung says. “He’s flirting.”

Felix looks at him with a certain degree of exasperation. “Show me what I asked,” he says.

“Oh, wow, okay, geez, pushy,” Jisung says, circling so he standing beside Felix. Felix drops the rest of the robe, evidently not the slightest bit shy to be standing there naked. Now your gaze is the roving one, jumping between them, darting upward when Jisung cups Felix’s face and turns it to him.

“You need to turn her on first, man,” Jisung says, swaying to the playful rhythm of his own voice. Felix follows, but his eyes narrow into judgemental slits. Jisung seems unbothered by this, standing still, tucking some hair behind Felix’s ear. “C’mooon,” he says, with an impatient little shoulder wiggle and a laugh. “She likes you… she likes me… as they say… badda bing badda boom…”

“I don’t think they say that during sex,” Felix says, frowning.

“He’s right,” you say, giggling.

Jisung sighs and looks at you. “No audience participation,” he says, miming a zip across his lips. “Just sit there and look pretty, baby. We’ll get to you.”

Felix looks at you. Jisung leans close to whisper in his ear. You try to decipher what he is saying based on Felix, but all Felix does is furrow his eyebrows then look sideways at Jisung. There is a moment of quiet, then they smile at the same time.

Felix delicately cups Jisung’s chin.

The last time you caught them kissing, it spurred only jealousy. But that was different. That was your childish reaction to exclusion, your own anxieties speaking over everything else. This time, you are not outside of their connection. You even swear you can feel the faintest tingling on your own lips when they gently come together in a feather-light kiss.

Their hands trace similar paths, Felix’s slipping into Jisung’s pants and Jisung touching him back. The kiss deepens until their tongues touch, then Jisung giggles while Felix grins. They look at you at the same time.

“Go,” Jisung says, nudging Felix forward.

They let go of each other and Felix climbs up on the bed, guiding you backwards until your head is on a pillow. Long tendrils of blonde hair brush your cheeks. He lays over you and kisses you, pressing your head into the cushion. Even lost in his kiss, you can sense Jisung with a fuzzy awareness. You recognize the familiar touch of his palm, his hand gliding up your inner thigh. Felix makes room, joining Jisung at your thighs. You twitch with an instinctive little jerk, pushing yourself up on your elbows to look at them. Jisung puts a finger over his lips and shushes you, smiling.

“We got it, we got it…” he says. He cups the back of Felix’s head and pushes his head down to your pussy.

Felix glances up at you, then him, then down. His eyes close and he sticks out his tongue, his expression one of the sweetest pleasure when he puts his mouth on you. What he lacks in skill, he compensates with eagerness, messily diving in with an open mouth, licking and kissing and making a mess of himself. Jisung threads his fingers into his hair and tugs, laughing a little.

“Easy, easy,” he says. He and Felix look at each other as Jisung lowers his own face. When he puts his expert mouth on you, your head falls back, thighs parting further. You throw your arms over your head and dig your fingers into the cushions. You chase the rhythm of his tongue, looking down when it stops, when Felix replaces him.

“See, look at her,” Jisung says. Felix looks up at you. “Just like that.”

Then Jisung joins him. They torturously alternate whose mouth is on you. Jisung dives at Felix, licking across his wet lips and kissing him before returning to you. You can hardly tell one mouth from the next, gasping under two tongues as they stroke you and each other, matching blonde heads bobbing in perfect coordination between your thighs. It is inhumanly perfect, so harmonious that it almost agonizing. This is how mortals lose their minds here, you think.

Eventually you are so wound up that you can’t help but cry out.

“Oh noo,” Jisung says, very unrepentant as lays beside you. “I think we were teasing her… That’s so mean of us, isn’t it, baby? Huh?” He pinches your face in his hand, cooing at you while you playfully glare. He giggles and kisses you, your own wet desire smeared across his lips. “You’re so wet, baby,” he says, sliding his hand down your body and over your pussy, easing his fingers through the wetness there. When you whimper, he whimpers back in faux sympathy, pouting and nodding. “I know, poor baby,” he says, curling his fingers inside you.

Felix’s eyes light up, watching. He props himself up on one hand and touches you with the other. You make a sound against Jisung’s mouth, a breathy moan as Felix slides his fingers in too. It’s thick, that many fingers at once and so suddenly. Your thighs jerk and you whine into Jisung’s mouth. You see stars when you close your eyes, their fingers moving at the same time inside you. They share a heartbeat, a rhythm, not faulting in the slightest.

For a moment, you just lay there and dizzily take it, stretched around their fingers, wet and silky hot and so turned on that you feel like you’re floating.

“Jisung,” Felix says in his rough, deep voice.

“I know,” Jisung replies, just as hoarse.

Their fingers leave you and Jisung grabs your throat with that same hand, slick fingers nudging your chin to look at him. Your breath catches and you think Felix’s breath catches too.

“That’s my girl,” Jisung says, reaching down at the same Felix reaches up, a hand on each breast, teasing the pebbled peaks. You squirm and Jisung returns his hand to your throat, smiling at you so innocently, scrunching up his eyes with delight. “Good girl,” he says, squeezing. Felix gasps then moans, sucking kisses wherever his mouth lazily roams. Jisung places those same hot kisses on your neck, each kiss landing one after the other, lighting every nerve. Teeth and tongue lave at your skin, no doubt bruising it with each little love bite.

“That’s it,” Jisung says, and you really start to think your human boyfriend is made of more magic than autumnal flurries. His dark eyes sparkle in the light, his mischievous smirk lighting up his handsome face. He is so giggly and sweet despite the dastardly torture of his hands and mouth.

You find yourself sinking into the sensations, eyes closed, body running on instinct.

“Felix,” Jisung says. His hand leaves your throat, sliding down your body. You realize he is spreading your pussy lips again, teasing as Felix pushes inside you. It is easy now that you have taken so many fingers, but the knowledge of what is happening, of who is fucking you, makes your breath stutter and eyes open.

“Ohh,” is the only sound you can make, watery eyes on where Felix is moving slowly in and out of you. His brow is furrowed again, that look of concentration, then he groans and all but sprawls on top of you, fucking you with messy abandon. Jisung thumps his head heavily onto the cushion, panting heavily, as if he was fucking you.

“Felix, you gotta—” Jisung says, his own face twisted up with a tortured sort of pleasure. Felix does not listen to him, still rocking his hips with a frantic unevenness. It feels good and crazy and wild, your head lolling to the side, a hum in your throat.

Jisung finds the resolve to push himself up, groaning with the effort. You watch him roughly manhandle Felix, yanking his head up to get him to concentrate. Felix’s eyes flash gold then go dark. His mouth is hanging open and his cheeks are flushed. He never stops moving.

“And you said I was impatient,” Jisung murmurs, grabbing Felix’s hips and evening out his rhythm. You suppose it stands to reason that if Jisung is the most pussy-drunk man you have ever known, than Felix would be too. Except Felix actually is magic, and everything about Jisung seems to multiply in Felix. He looks completely overcome. Then Jisung suddenly asks, “Good tears or bad?”

“Good,” Felix rasps.

“So you wanna keep going?”

“Ye-es,” Felix hiccups, then suddenly starts crying, all the messy human-ness mixing with his confusing faerie-ness, coming together in an explosive physical and emotional mania that has him burying his face in your neck and fucking you so deep and hard that your own sniffles start.

“Yes,” you say at the same time as him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Jisung touches your hand, his other still guiding Felix’s hips. Felix moans in your throat then marginally turns his head.

“Jisung,” he says. “I can’t—unless you—”

Jisung very unceremoniously shoves a hand down his pants, then looks up at you and smiles.

“Okay,” Jisung says. He moves and Felix sinks back inside you, moaning deeply, clutching you possessively. You hold him back as fiercely, blinking up at Jisung when kneels near your face. “Come on, baby,” Jisung says, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip.

“Yes,” Felix says, nodding at him and at you.

You open your mouth, nodding at Jisung. His pants get tossed somewhere and he removes his shirt at the same time his dick pushes past your lips. They really do fuck with an extraordinary identicalness, perfectly matched without a word. It is easy to fall into their rhythm, not even straining. You feel like you were born to be here, between them, sharing them, sharing yourself with them.

They come at the same time, Felix with his cheek pressed to yours, Jisung with his head thrown back. They lay down on either side of you, flopping back at the same time. Felix has a completely dazed look on his face, his breath stuttering when you tuck some of his sweaty hair back. He looks at you like he is seeing you for the first time all over again.

All three of you exhale at once. The resulting giggle comes in three-way unison too.

“Wow,” Felix finally says. “It’s much more fun like this.”

“Hell yeah,” Jisung says, holding out his fist for a bump. You swat it down before Felix can return it. Jisung just laughs, snuggling up to you.

Felix also rolls onto his side. He tucks one hand under his head and touches your face with the other. You and Jisung both look at him, his faraway stare, the way a small smile unfurls on his face.

“You’re mine now,” he says. “Forever. Yeah?” It’s posed like a question but evidently it is already fact to him, or he could not say it.

“Forever and ever,” Jisung says easily, stretching out on the royal bedsheets like he has always belonged there.

Felix looks at you for an answer too, still smiling. You are not as easy as Jisung, but you try hard not to overthink.

But you remember so many stories of humans wandering in the faerie world, never seen or heard from again, the tales of their disappearances ranging from beautiful to horrifying. You think it would be impudent to think yourself different or better than them. They thought they were safe too.

The question tumbles past your lips before you can think twice:

“Your true name,” you say. “Would you still give it to me if I asked?”

He clearly does not expect the question. He blinks quickly, then his gaze darts to the side. You look there to see Jisung nodding off, already half-asleep on your shoulder. Felix is not sleeping. You look at him, wondering still about the sometimes contradictory depth of their connection.

“Aren’t you tired too?” you ask.

“A little,” he says.

You realize he didn’t answer your other question and you open your mouth to ask again. He kisses you, cupping your face, making a happy sound when you kiss him back. Jisung makes his own little happy sound, sighing on your shoulder.

“I love you,” Felix says, speaking soft and low against your lips. He strokes the side of your face. “I want you to stay with me forever.”

“You’d really tell me your true name?” you ask.

“I’d do anything for you,” he says. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Felix,” you say, about to say more when he kisses you again. He smiles so big and bright, it crinkles the corner of his eyes.

“You do,” he says. “That’s the truth. You love me like you love him.”

“It’s the same but different,” you say. “Like how you love both me and Jisung.”

He is still smiling. He kisses the corner of your mouth sweetly. “The same but different,” he says. “Yes. I understand.”

He draws you into his arms and kisses the crown of your head, sighing a happy sigh. Jisung curls up behind you, already fast asleep while Felix murmurs sweet love confessions at you until you fall asleep too, nestled tightly and safely in his arms.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix smut #han jisung smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #faerie au

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borrowedtimeandspace · 10 months

Text

The Drum Beats Out of Time

7. Thief

From this list of gt prompts

AU: Time After Time (Twelve AU)

Note: For those following this story as it's progressed, this is where things start to go a little out of order. So far it's been fairly straightforward, one after another, but this jumps slightly ahead of Caught Up in Circles.

~~~

The willful ignorance of human beings was quite handy for a Time Lord gone incognito. The Doctor had lectured at St. Luke's for decades and he was still barely an anecdote, his idiosyncrasies written off under the assumption that he was simply eccentric.

Students hardly spared him a second glance when he ran across campus, Nardole trailing behind. A few looked up to witness the funny way they ran, but quickly went about their own student-life business. The Doctor paid them no mind. He was going somewhere much more important.

He'd received an intruder alert outside the Vault. Perhaps not as big an emergency as if the Vault itself were under direct attack, but still worth checking on as soon as possible. Couldn't have anyone messing with it or trying to open it (not that they could easily, but it was still a concern).

The door was sealed shut when the Doctor and Nardole arrived, and they exchanged a glance to agree to keep their guards up. With the alert deactivated, the Doctor swung the door open and crept down with his sonic at the ready to scan for what or whoever had intruded on their lab.

All seemed to be in order as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Hardly anything looked different, and nothing unusual was detected by the screwdriver. Nardole gave the occasional startled squeak as they searched behind the old junk lying about the place for any signs of humanoids, but they found none.

"Well, that's anticlimactic," muttered the Doctor. With its job done, he brandished his sonic toward Nardole in an accusatory manner. "Have you been fiddling with the security settings again?"

Nardole's hands flew up, exasperated. "Oh, yes, excuse me for not wanting rats to chew through our incredibly important work down here. Must've set it to trip off the wrong alarm."

Rolling his eyes at Nardole's excuse, the Doctor's gaze landed on something out of place. Some bit of copper piping that had been on one of the work tables the last he saw it, and had found its way to the floor where it rolled several feet away. Following its trajectory to its original spot, the Doctor's near constant frown quirked in thought.

"Not rats…" Leaning in for a closer look, he found some very interesting footprints in the thin layer of dust toward the back of the work table.

Boot prints, to be more specific.

"Sir?" Nardole crossed the room to see what the Doctor had spotted, only to find him grinning from ear to ear. A rare, rather off-putting sight these days. "What is it?"

"There's a thief among us," the Doctor whispered almost conspiratorially, but with a touch too much glee.

"A thief?" Nardole echoed, concerned. He began to turn on a swivel once again, as though he'd suddenly find a cat burglar making off with their things.

The Doctor huffed out a sigh. "Figure of speech, Nardole, figure of speech. Here's your intruder," he said as he redirected Nardole's attention to the marks in the dust he'd found. Pointing with a finger, he mapped out what must have happened according to the way those tiny boots left their marks. "Snuck in through this gap, took one look 'round before knocking into that pipe. Pipe tumbles, hits the ground with a loud clang, alarm bells go off, and off they go. Back into the shadows."

Nardole adjusted his spectacles as he observed. He’d never seen anything of this kind, and assumed they ought to figure out what was behind this intrusion. "Definitely humanoid. Teeny one, mind. Could it be alien, sir?"

"If it were an alien, their tech would have raised alarms by now," the Doctor said dismissively, waving off the very idea. "Obviously it's a borrower."

"You what?"

The Doctor looked to Nardole with genuine confusion. "Have we not gone over borrowers? Secret race of tiny people living hidden under the floors and in the walls all over Earth? Surely I've brought it up before.”

"News to me," Nardole shook his head, glancing back at the little footprints. As if humans weren't enough to worry about sneaking about. "Why come down here, d'you reckon?"

With a shrug, the Doctor pocketed his sonic and absently began brushing away the dust and the prints left in it. "Probably shelter, or supplies and materials. Could’ve been after food, but lucky for me they didn’t make it to my hideaway snacks–"

"Could they still be here?" asked Nardole with a bitten-back shudder at the thought. This whole thing gave him the lingering feeling of being watched.

"Doubtful," the Doctor scoffed. "All that noise, and two giants blundering in? If they are still here, they won't be for long. Particularly if they've overheard us."

Evidently deciding that was that, the Doctor's hands got shoved into pockets and he strolled out of the room and toward the exit. Nardole, briefly caught up thinking about the implications of all the Doctor had casually revealed to him, hurried to catch up after a moment.

"Now, when you say 'in the walls', are they in all the walls?" he fussed.

"Not every wall," the Doctor assured him, then turned abruptly to fix Nardole in a sharp stare. "But any wall.”

Nardole frowned as the Doctor turned his back to continue up the stairs. "How do you know all this, anyhow?"

"Personal experience," said the Time Lord after the briefest of pauses.

#gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #doctor who gt #doctor who g/t #time after time #twelve AU #the borrowers #borrowers crossover #doctor who crossover #twelfth doctor #Nardole #sfw gt #TAT: a BTaS AU #12th doctor

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mochidreambubble · 1 year

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Chocolates Anytime, All the Time, Not even Romantically (an OL1 fic)

The AO3 link here

[a short one shot for Valentine's Day.

More on cherishing someone who is a constant in your life, even if it's not romantic.

Also Chocolates. Quite a fair amount.]

~First Summer~

Cove almost reaches back out as Jamie pulls away the ice cream cone. They’ve dropped by with two chocolate ones, one meant for their sister and one for themselves. When they saw him ( moping they insist, which he totally wasn’t. Obviously.) sitting on the sidewalk, they offered one to him.

“I get one too cause mom said it was only fair but you can have mine,” they shrug, a short segway to a quick tale of a quick errand from shopping street - really more of a Lizzy-quest. They try to hand over the quickly melting ice cream over to Cove again. “I like vanilla or white choco more anyways.”

Cove denies the icy treat, nevermind how hot a day it was. Jamie tries again, testing the waters as if to be sure before they look Cove square in the eyes. Their face falls, but they still try to smile. “Sorry, Ma says I can be kinda pushy. Don’t mean to make you uncomfy.”

Before Cove can reply, they say goodbye and rush back over to their house. Cove hears the annoyed yelling of an older sibling over melted ice cream and two mothers smoothing things over.

Cove waits for his dad to return, asking for chocolate ice cream. But somehow, Cove thinks as he munches down on the sweet treat in the cool summer evening, that the quickly melting mess this afternoon maybe would’ve tasted better.

~Adolescent Autumn~

Cove’s neighbors tended to celebrate holidays that were more uncommon, at least to the likes of Cove and his dad. One such holiday was the Mid Autumn Festival. Jamie explained during Cove’s first autumn in Sunset Bird that their moms encouraged Jamie to be attached to their roots, though saying it was up to them to keep celebrating it or not. But they enjoyed it, even if the whole walking around with colorful lanterns around the neighborhood was no longer a major part of the household festivities.

What remained though, were very delicious mooncakes. Well, at least they were if Jamie’s moms were making them.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” They’re pouting as Cove stares dubiously at the oblong shape supposedly mooncake. He’s pretty sure mooncakes were meant to be rounded at the very least…

(He later learns that mooncakes can be in all kinds of shapes, but he’s sure they’re not supposed to be misshapen and rather… limp? Mushy looking?)

“I mean…”

Jamie was notoriously known to be quite the disaster in the kitchen.

“Aw, c’mon Cove. I followed the recipe and everything!”

It was a chocolate fudge mooncake, according to Jamie. And as tempting as fudge sounds, Cove doesn’t necessarily have a death wish. But then again, Jamie was looking so mournful over Cove’s uneagerness to try.

Aw heck may as well.

So he holds up the somewhat a mooncake and takes a big bite.

“It’s,” Cove says through a mouthful of chocolate as Jamie pulls a face (Don’t talk with your mouth full, Cove!). “It’s good?”

“R-Really?”

“Yeah… I mean. It definitely tastes mostly like chocolate.”

So for the first time in the years since Cove moved into Sunset Bird, Jamie had made pretty edible food. It made for a funny Mid Autumn dinner seeing everyone’s reluctant expressions morph into relief like his own.

~Warm Winter~

Some guy from school invites Jamie to some couple skating rink event. Cove doesn’t even need to fully pay attention to know what the reply would be. Terri pats the dejected suitor as they walk away from their table. It’s not that Jamie doesn’t like guys or girls, according to said neighbor. They’ve speculated before they could like them. It’s just that Cove has never seen Jamie into anyone that way yet.

Ok , maybe that’s not completely true. There was one summer where Cove recounts Jamie expressing quite flusteredly to him and Derek of a mystery boy. Cove thinks said mystery boy is odd, not sure why it warrants Jamie’s… Blushes? The very unexpected shyness?

I mean, what kind of compliment is saying you have nice legs anyways?

Didn’t matter anyway, Cove decides. It was just a once in a lifetime kind of meeting anyways. Besides, Cove had more important things to think about. Like after school in his kitchen, wearily watching Jamie as he hopes they don’t burn everything down.

They’re not as bad as they used to be when handling kitchen utensils and open flames, but it doesn’t stop Cove from worrying. Someone had to, as his best friend tended to care and fuss about everything and everyone but themselves.

“Will you relax, Cove . I’m just making hot chocolate.”

“Fancy hot chocolate. I’d be more relaxed if you were just mixing a 3 in 1.”

They go into a dramatic speech about needing to indulge and enjoying themselves while they were young. Cove laughs as he takes a mug filled to the brim with chocolate topped with a mountain of marshmallows.

The day ended with literally twelve cups worth of hot chocolate and a double dare to chug everything. They almost do, splitting six cups between them, until his dad stops them three cups in. Probably for the best.

~Speculative Spring~

Cove never thought much about it, cause oddly enough, Jamie giving him chocolate - in all shapes and forms - just seemed like the normal thing. So not even the yearly chocolate gift from Jamie every February 14 since they’ve met really ever meant much of anything to him.

A guy from their class made a big fuss about it for some odd reason. “You’re the only guy Jamie gives chocolates to.”

Cove frowns, confusion rising. “Jamie gives chocolates to Miranda and Terri too?”

There were some outcries that it wasn’t the same, but Cove really didn’t get it. Jamie tended to give people sweet things all the time, and even on Valentines, he wasn’t some special exception. Even excluding Miranda and Terri, they gave an array of nicely packed chocolates to his dad, had ordered some to be delivered to Lee and his mom and their own family got to receive them first thing in the morning.

He asked them about it before, and they replied with a shrug. “It’s cause I love you all.”

And that was good enough for Cove. And he had to admit, it was just a nice constant. But he tells Jamie of their classmates' befuddlement while heading back to their street, and expectedly, they were amused. But they seemed to “get what they were getting at” at least.

“Maybe one day I’ll feel some kind of way for someone and I’ll get them a romantic Valentine,” Despite Jamie’s light tone, he can hear some wistfulness behind it. “But until then my dearest family members are good enough for me. Especially you, cause if I get to remind you every year that you’ll never be rid of me, the better.”

Cove doubles down on that, insisting that Elizabeth had the right idea, uniting their families with the two of them to form a powerful dynasty. Jamie insists they should proceed and start a chocolate empire. Cove sees no downside in that.

~Summer Fling~

Cove realizes that, for the first time, Jamie may get to send out that ever elusive romantic Valentine next Spring after all. And Baxter surely doesn’t know how lucky a guy he is, especially since Jamie has mastered the art of fudge. That and really great sentimental planning. He still can’t believe they out surprised him, and his heart swells. He tries not to get over emotional as he watches Jamie from his surfboard, on their nth attempt this summer to get Baxter used to the sea.

He can’t say he’s wowed over by the monochromaticly dressed tourist, but Jamie is happy and that’s all that matters to him. It’s odd to see his usually confident best friend somehow be reduced to a stuttering mess for some guy though. There’s also this feeling of unease he can’t explain…

Jamie’s happy , Cove reminds himself as he sees the couple later that day, Jamie coyly sharing their cookies and cream ice cone with Baxter.

Some part of him thinks Jamie should have picked vanilla or white chocolate like they always did…

…

~Spring Hearts~

It’s bittersweet. Both the chocolate and the day itself, Cove thinks.

At the very least, Jamie had not broken their streak of giving Cove chocolates. He even got to be the first person to get them this year. Well, hard not to as they were living together.

The previous summer really became one where he saw a different side of someone he thought he knew so well. Their insecurity of things changing, Cove and Jamie potentially being finally apart…

Well, the latter worry is a non issue of course. It would still be them against the world…

“It’s not tasty, huh?” Jamie smiles ruefully as they observe Cove’s expression.

“What? No, these are good!” Cove grabs a handful of the handmade chocolate. Jamie had made cute little hearts this year, branching out a little bit from just fudge.

“But you made a face!”

He did, but Cove quickly explains that he expected it to be milk chocolate, Jamie’s sweet tooth and all. He doesn’t comment on the batch of other chocolates that he knew Jamie dumped the night before, monochromatic hearts that used up all the milk chocolate ingredients…

“But I promise,” Cove says as he reaches for more. “Dark chocolate is just as good.”

“Good… Because you’re probably going to get these every year as my eternal Valentine.”

“I look forward to it.”

And not just on Valentines. Cove was certain he’d accept any and all chocolates from Jamie for all time.

#cove holden #our life beginnings & always #my fic #valentines day #my writing

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chicken-fifi · 2 years

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The Protector and the Protected - Part XV

Description: After a minor slip up in security, the existence of the only daughter of a diplomat is leaked to the world. With no knowledge of what other unprecedented dangers may arise, your father brings you home after an attempt on your life while living abroad. Upon your return, you are assigned a personal bodyguard to ensure your safety who is to be by your side practically every waking moment. Come hell or high water, he makes sure that you’re as safe as can be while under his watch. As much as you tell yourself that this isn’t some bodyguard fanfic where you end up falling in love, somehow your protector manages to make you question that small detail.

Warnings: Violence, guns, cursing, sexual inuendos, kidnapping, constant danger, mass shootings, smut, idk man just stuff

Word Count: 834 words

The Protector and the Protected Masterlist

The pound inside your head was unbearable as you opened your eyes and tried to take in the things around you. Except there was a slight problem in doing that action - there was a very thick piece of cloth covering your eyes, barring you from being able to see anything. Your hands were tied with an intricately knotted rope behind your back. Your legs had limited movement, some sort of chain connecting them to one another before extending further away from you. You heard a door open and seized all movement holding your breath as you tried to figure out where the door was. But in the near bare room - not to mention sight impaired - it was difficult to do so before it slammed shut making you flinch.

“Glad to see you’re awake,” the voice of a familiar male commented. “I was beginning to think I might have to ask for a ransom with your comatose body.”

“Mr. Park?” you questioned, unsure if you wanted to know if it was truly Congressman Park who was in the room with you.

“So do you remember me? Funny how such a small interaction at a mere charity event can lead to recognition.”

How would you not be able to remember the unpleasant looking Congressman - especially after Seonghwa pointed him out? The man had probably been the most obviously fake out of everyone that introduced themselves to you at the gala.

“Well, I’ve got some business to tend to,” the congressman sighed out, clapping his hands before his feet clacked away the door opening again. “Try not to be too loud down here. Don’t want to draw any unwanted attention.”

~~~

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Seonghwa asked Wonjae for what felt like the hundredth time since he’d arrived at HQ.

“Nothing different is going to be leaving my mouth from what I said five minutes ago Seonghwa,” Wonjae huffed out in frustration before recounting everything again. “Everyone was doing their rounds, I was in the security room going through the cameras when I noticed a bunch of our men being taken out by some goons. I went and got (y/n), took her to the tunnel and told her to keep going until she reached the end - I told her to not stop. I went back to get Ms. Lee and we took the other one. She didn’t make it to the end of the tunnel. What else do you want me to say?”

“You shouldn’t have left her alone!”

“Don’t you think I know that!? Have you tried to stop for a moment to think how guilty I feel? I didn’t want to leave her alone but I couldn’t just let Ms. Lee fend for herself. I didn’t think they’d find the tunnel entrance. No one was supposed to know about them except you, Kiseok, and myself.”

Seonghwa’s hand hit the table in front of him, strings of curses leaving his mouth under his breath. Kiseok entered the room followed by their team leader - who had a grim look on his face.

“We have a mole,” he uttered as soon as he closed the door behind him. “And we have reason to believe that said mole is working with Congressman Park. We’ve managed to trace down the leak regarding (y/n)’s identity back to Park. It’s possible that the mole may be one of Mr (y/l/n)’s staff members. They’re the only ones who knew of her existence.”

Everyone was silent for a few minutes after their team leader finished speaking. Things weren’t pointing in your favor. If one of your father’s staff members was twisted enough to sell you off as leverage for whatever reason - likely the presidential election seeing as your father had a heavy influence on many - who knows what kind of sick shit they would pull to get their way.

“What do you suggest we do?” Wonjae asked, concern clear as day in his tone. “We don’t know who the mole is, where they are, what they’re after, or even where she’s being kept.”

“I have people looking into all his staff and their connections,” their team leader clarified. “I’m currently waiting on a list of properties connected to Park or any of his various companies. From there we can-”

There was a sharp knock on the door before it burst open, the four men turning and glaring in the direction of the door. The poor man gulped before speaking.

“A ransom has been made by the congressman,” he rushed out. “He called Mr. (y/l/n) personally demanding 20 million dollars and a guaranteed win of the election. Unless both conditions are met… he’s going to bomb her.”

Seonghwa felt his heart still, every organ in his body seizing all function as he processed the information he’d just been told. What was he going to do if any harm came to you? He couldn’t take another loss like that, especially not you. What was he going to do?

#kpop fanfics #kpop fanfictions #the protector and the protected masterlist #the protector and the protected #soloist and actors masterlist #gray #gray masterlist #lee seonghwa #lee seonghwa masterlist #gray fanfics #gray fanfictions #lee seonghwa fanfics #lee seonghwa fanfictions

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lifeasitgoes · 7 months

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Where do I begin . I feel alive . Feels like I woke up from a bad dream that I was stuck in . I finally feel like myself again. Not a 100% but I think I’m there by 80% I guess.

I started writing poetry again .Been sticking to my new work out routine and making time for all the people who love me. I feel like a well rounded person . The last 3 months were mentally and emotionally challenging but I made it out after all the constant battles between my mind and heart.

I don’t think about the past that often anymore but the best part is not having tears run down my eyes when I think about it. I think I’ve reached the stage of acceptance and I can finally breathe . I feel peace and content.

I got a taste of heart break and it hurt like hell . It was a very difficult lesson to learn but I’m glad I went through it now and not when I’m 40 . I guess things ending between us made me realise that there were so many ways where I could have been a better person myself and the kind of expectations I should set the next time I get into a relationship so both sides are aware on what they need to bring to the table in order to have a seat at it .

For the time being I am focussing on myself , my job , my health , my family and my friends . I did have a rough week because I had to be there for an old friend who had his heart broken . It was the most devastating thing to watch because I understand his pain but above all , I know how amazing he was as someone’s partner. Then I had a friend who’s is also a colleague that told me she was pregnant.

It’s funny how one day I was there giving a hug to a friend who had his heart broken by someone he loved and the next day I’m giving a hug to a friend that’s celebrating the start of a new life.

Anyways I have a road trip coming up this weekend to help my friend get some closure on the ending of his relationship and hoping to get an opportunity to throw hands at the heartless creature who broke his heart . I’m joking , but hey I believe that closure helps with healing and if closure isn’t given then there are other ways to move on .

Life is short . Heart breaks are painful but life goes on because someday when the time comes I believe we will find our soulmate in someone who doesn’t just play the part of your best friend but they’ll play many roles to complete you in every stage of your life. They’ll be the person who gets you and always makes you feel seen , heard and understood.

So here is to new beginnings , finding a purpose , embracing new love and changes while not losing ourselves .

XOXO -Dani.M

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greenorangevioletgrass · 3 years

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crash course (t.h.)

masterlist | ko-fi?

pairing: tom holland x bi!musician!reader

summary: fresh out of a breakup, tom moves in with his childhood best friend. she teaches him a thing or two about moving on.

word count: 6.8k (phew)

warnings: best friends to lovers, flatmates au, sexual tension, reader is a fuckgirl/chaotic bi, tom is an idiot, language, drinking, weed, fluff, minor angst, smut!, fingering, oral (m/f), protected sex, dirty talk, bro talk lol

song inspo: hozier - moment's silence / john mayer - in your atmosphere / harry styles - woman / lianne la havas - courage / billie eilish - when the party's over

notes: soooo it was based on this ask but it turned into... a monster lmao. i absolutely love y/n here; she's like a combination of harry styles, st. vincent, hozier, and john mayer and i hope you enjoy it!

***

After a rigorous nine-month long shoot and a tough breakup after a two-year relationship, Tom feels like he’s due for a fresh start. He’s had enough of wallowing in his parents’ house, taking Tessa on long quiet walks at the park, and taking the piss out of his brothers at home. No more of that. He needs to be somewhere different. New.

Hence why he’s taken his car and his stuff to this newish apartment complex in Battersea. (And yes, he’s aware that it’s only a half-hour ride from his family home. But it’s more of a… mental distance more than anything else.)

And there she is, like the most constant thing in his life, standing at the curb in her old grey hoodie and ratty sneakers, with a smile she’s always sported for as long as he’s known her. For a moment, he doesn’t feel all that nervous about this impulsive move.

“Tommy Shelby!” Y/N exclaims as he gets out of the car.

“Not my name,” he deadpans, but hugs her anyway.

She pats him squarely on the back and gives him a brief kiss on the cheek. “I know it’s not. How are you, man?”

“Honestly? Meh.” he pulls away, grimacing. “But I’ll live. Come on, help me get my stuff up.”

She follows him to the boot of his car, surprised and confused by what’s in it. Two suitcases, a duffel bag, and two boxes. All this for a whole-ass international movie star in a multibillion dollar franchise.

“This it? What are you, a student?”

“Are you kidding? I got my golf clubs, too. Do you think I was raised in a barn?” Tom shoots her a funny look as he takes out the suitcases and slings the duffel bag across his shoulder. “You take these, I’ll get the boxes.”

That’s how their relationship has always been. They met back in BRIT School, right around the age where girls and boys can’t be seen together without the rest of the class thinking they’re together, so they established a very 'bro-y' friendship. Funny quips and borderline mean insults to veil just how much they care about each other. First as friends, and then--

Life takes them into different directions. Tom's movies take him all around the world, and Y/N is busy making her own name in the music industry, as a singer/songwriter and producer. Their daily exchanges turn into semi-regular catch-ups and occasional run-ins at events. So, when they bumped into each other at a Tesco three weeks ago and Tom moaned about living at home, it was a no-brainer for Y/N to offer her spare bedroom for him.

Nevermind the fact that her childhood crush is resurfacing and she needs to find a way to get over it.

“You sure you can still see what’s in front of you? What with this… tall stack you’re carrying?” she grins, knocking the top of the box playfully, leading him out of the elevator.

He scoffs at her dramatically, following her into the hallway. “Shut up, I’mma kick you in the shin.”

“Alright, little soldier boy. Here it is!” she welcomes him into the flat, throwing her key into the bowl on the console table.

He drops the boxes next to where Y/N leaves his luggage, by the door. The light blue sofa faces the TV, flanked by a mint green armchair and a red round ottoman. Her digital piano sits on one corner, her guitars adorning the wall, while the other side opens up to a kitchen/dining area with a balcony. The shelves are sparsely filled with books and picture frames and awards, and Tom feels less like he’s intruding on someone else’s living space.

"Mi casa es su casa. Literally,” Y/N says with an easy smile.

He stands in the middle of the bedroom-- his new bedroom. The sun streams in from a floor-to-ceiling window, and he’s thankful for the view of the nearby park. The double bed is flanked by built-in wardrobes and a desk, with two rows of bookshelves over it. The room is sparsely decorated, save for a few tasteful black-and-white photos of tulips and calla lilies on the wall. She leaves him alone to unpack, saying something about a welcoming party as she walks out.

The welcoming ‘party,’ as it turns out, is attended by them and them alone, sitting on the living room couch with pizza, beer, and a joint. It’s a remnant of simpler times, of all-night movie marathons and video games. And a stark reminder of growing up, given how comfortably drunk and high they are.

It’s one hell of a nice evening.

"You seem a lot more comfortable under the influence than I remember." she observes him take a puff, struggling to stop staring at his delicate lips over the haze.

"I've gotten a lot more accustomed to it over the years," he brings it back up to his lips one more time. "'m not that kid who freaked out about one puff for a whole hour anymore.”

“No, you’re not.” Y/N laughs, her head laid on the seat of the couch, near his broad shoulder. “You were a bigger pain in the ass high than you were sober back then. How is that even possible?”

And with that, he laughs wryly. “I think I’m an even bigger pain now, moping about for a whole month after my girlfriend dumped me-- thanks for taking me in, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” she brushes him off. “I’m pretty happy to have you… slummin’ it here with me.”

“I wouldn’t call this ‘slumming’, really.” he looks around at the sleek light fixtures, fancy TV, feeling the soft, fluffy fabric of the sofa underneath his hand… stopping just an inch from her back. "You seem to be doing alright for yourself."

"Well…" she shrugs somewhat sheepishly. Truth be told, she has been doing pretty well. A sleeper hit album, a successful tour across Europe...

"Aren't you?" he looks deep into her eyes. For a moment, the humor fades out; there's just soft, genuine concern in his features. She can feel his arm around her shoulders, solid and reassuring.

And God, it melts her like hot knife on fucking butter.

"It's just…" she takes the joint from him and takes a deep drag. "It can get a bit lonely sometimes. I mean, I'm sure you know how it feels."

"Oh, yeah. All too well."

"Mm. One minute, you're in a hall so crowded, you can barely hear yourself think. And then you come back to your hotel room or your flat and then it's just… dead silence. It's nice to have some company." she smiles softly.

"Well, say no more. You got company right here.” he rests his head on her shoulder, all snug and comfy.

She leans back into him and sighs, the animal documentary playing on TV feels fuzzy and distant. The weed grows faint, the beer tepid. And the company… she just hopes the company doesn’t drift away as quickly.

***

They fall into an easy routine in no time. Tom wakes up early, goes on a morning run or a round of golf, and whips up some breakfast-- sometimes a fancy French toast, and other times just… jam on toast. Y/N usually rolls out of bed from the sweet smell, and Tom is always more than happy to make enough for both of them.

"Ugh, can you just be my malewife forever, please?" she mutters one morning, half-asleep as she takes a bite of Tom's homemade raspberry waffles. "You can quit acting and just… do this."

He hums into his tea. "I don't think you can afford me as a trophy husband."

She pauses, as if making budget calculations in her head. "Yeah, you're right. I can never compete with that Marvel money."

"Sorry, love.” Tom smiles, looking not sorry at all.

"Shame. Would’ve loved to see you rockin’ aprons and… hoovering around the house all day.” she hums into her coffee this time.

During the day, they would do their own thing. Y/N would write music on her piano, mix tracks in her little workspace in her room, or occasionally go out to a proper recording studio to work. And Tom would… he would do whatever new hobby he decided to pick up. Meditate, journal, read a book (as much as his attention span allows him anyway), paint, watch a movie, puzzle, woodwork...

Y/N comes home one afternoon to Tom sitting on their balcony floor, the sound of sandpaper against wood filling the air. The back of his plain white t-shirt is stained with sweat, and she wonders how long he’s been at this.

"Honey, I’m home! Make me a sandwich!” she hollers into the flat in a saccharine sweet voice.

Tom didn’t even look up; he just replies knowingly, “Kindly fuck a duck.”

She leans against the glass door, curiously eyeing the planks of wood of various sizes spread all around him. (That's a lie, she's completely eyeing the ripples of Tom's back muscles doing manual labor.)

Of course, he’s much too focused to provide any further explanations, so she prods on, "Whatcha up to, you sexy lumberjack?"

“Making a little shelf for your...” he gestures at the array of pots and terrariums on the other corner of the balcony, “...green babies.”

“Aww, cool! Thanks, man. Just don’t forget to clean up all the grit, yeah?”

“You got it, boss lady.”

It must be a strange sight to see him transform into a basic bitch, he’s sure of it, but he’s grateful that she doesn’t say anything. Truth be told, she seems to be unfazed in whatever weird shit he does in the slightest.

That's not to say that she isn't supportive-- she is, just not through coddling words of encouragement. What she does do is treat him as normal as one would, as if he’s always done this-- and occasionally join him. Casually helps out with his puzzles when she’s taking a break from her work. Buys new essential oils for the diffuser and meditates with him. Park herself next to him on the couch with some beer or crisps and watch (or heckle) the movie, especially if it’s something obscure and artsy. And truth be told, it is refreshing as fuck.

“So…” Y/N speaks up, not even three minutes into Paterson. “Is this movie basically just… Adam Driver living up to his name?”

“Huh?”

“Because he’s-- you know... a driver.” she motions at the screen, which shows his character driving a bus, fighting back a dumb grin.

Tom groaned. “Are you for real?”

“Hey, I’m not complaining. The guy’s…” she tilts her head to the side as she studies the man on the screen. “...strangely hot. He looks like he’s into some freaky shit.”

“I don’t need to know that,” he shudders.

“You’re just jealous that I’m thinking of boning--”

“Shh! Shut up, you’re making me miss what they’re saying!” he puts his whole palm over her laughing face, shoving her away while she snuggles closer into him.

And in the evenings, they would have dinner. Tom cooks mostly; he has the time now, and it gives him a chance to experiment on new recipes. It doesn't always work (like that one time when his chicken noodle soup tastes like seawater), but when that happens, they're always happy to get takeouts and a few beers.

And occasionally, Y/N would drag him to the pub or whatever venue she's playing in. Just to get some fresh air. Interact with the outside world.

Maybe meet someone.

He tries to convince her it’s not necessary. He’s more than happy to sit back, nurse his pint, and enjoy her set. The melody she sings is soulful, but the guitar riffs she plays matches the heart beyond what words can convey. And her band follows her lead; the steady rhythmic guitar, the thumping bass, the banging drums-- a gritty, bluesy sound against the absolutely ethereal backing vocals. It’s a bit hard to believe that she’s singing a song about oral sex, so riddled with religious allegories, but the way she plays it… he can’t imagine it being anything else.

“Like a heathen clung to its homily, let the reason come on the common tongue of your loving me. So summon on the pearl rosary. Let the reason come on the common tongue of your loving me…”

It comes to no surprise at all that she has all kinds of girls and boys chatting her up after her set. And she’s so fucking good at that, too.

“Seriously? That’s amazing!” Y/N beams at this petite blonde who came up to her at the bar. “I’m absolutely hopeless at all that. But my friend Tom here... hey, Tom!”

Tom turns toward the girls with a friendly wave.

“Tom does absolutely everything-- gymnastics, aerial, martial arts… you name it,” Y/N smoothly segues the conversation into a three-way. “Tom, this is Bailey. Bailey, Tom.”

“It’s not as impressive as it sounds. I’m not an Olympian or anything,” Tom bashfully smiles as he shakes her hand.

“I somehow don’t believe that,” she quirks an eyebrow playfully, like she recognized him but doesn’t wanna make it weird. “I think you’re being very modest.”

He laughs, catching how Bailey sizes him up. And he sizes her back up, too. Her greenish eyes and her little black dress and her pastel nail art… and in the background, Y/N subtly raising her glass and nodding in approval, slowly pulling back from the conversation so they could get to know each other better.

She might just be the most perfect flatmate he's ever had.

Well.

Almost perfect.

***

The first time it happened, he thought it was an honest mistake. She hasn't had any flatmates since she moved into this place, so she probably didn't know just how well sound travels through these apparently thin walls. She just carries on having loud sex with the girl she brought home that night.

And he's not even annoyed by her. If anything, he’s impressed because it sounds like Y/N is rocking the absolute socks off this girl. He could hear her whimpers rising up and winding down, over and over again. Over his friend’s warm laughters that turned into velvety moans. Coming together in an erratic duet of euphoric cries of release. Tom would be lying if he wasn't the slightest bit turned on.

"Oh, my God, Y/N, please give it to me, I can’t take it anymore!"

The girl in question said something indiscernible through the walls, followed by a sharp SMACK!

And Tom simply teases Y/N in the morning with a knowing smirk. “Hot date?”

Y/N, as freakishly rowdy and obscene she is in bed, didn’t kiss and tell.

The second time it happened, Tom began to suspect that’s simply how she fucks. His electric drill was whirring into planks of wood as he installed new shelves, but even that couldn't drown out Y/N's signature airy moans and the deep growls of her partner-- some guy she’d met in Amsterdam last year. At first he thought they were taking advantage of the mechanical noise. But he stopped, and he swore they started fucking even louder.

And he gets it. There's something inherently alluring about her. It's not just her music. Even in a crop top and jeans, she oozes sex appeal. The spotlight hits her smooth skin, beads of sweat rolling down her neck like crystals. Fingers expertly working the strings, glossy lips hovering over her mic almost like she’s making out with it… one can't help but imagine how good she is with her hands and mouth.

Tom would take this to the grave, but he totally retreated into the shower and jerked off to the fantasy of her mouth on his cock, like the song she sings about. He wonders if she could elicit those sounds from him, too.

He aimed his orgasm at the wall and just stood there under the shower, letting the droplets ricochet on his back with the ultimate realization.

This is fucked up, Tom. You’re in a weird funk and jacking off to your flatmate fucking some random guy in the other room. You need to get laid.

The next time they went out, less than a week later, he’s determined not to end up alone at the end of the night. Halfway through his third pint, a girl sat next to him and discreetly leaned his way.

“Don’t freak out, but… people are staring at you. And don’t worry, I checked; you don’t have toilet paper stuck on your trousers.”

“Thanks for looking out for me,” he chuckled, partly in relief, looking up at the girl in question.

“I'm Brooke, by the way." she offered her hand.

She's pretty cute, with wavy blonde hair down to her shoulders and dark brown eyes that seem kind. She didn't seem to recognize him either --or if she did, she wasn't very affected by it. And for that, he's willing to see how this goes.

"I'm Tom." he shook on it. "Can I buy you a drink, Brooke?"

“That’d be… really nice.”

She turned out to be nice, too. A nurse who works long shifts and has no time to catch up to the hype of the MCU, for which Tom is insanely grateful-- it's much easier to flirt when the other person didn't have any preconceived notions about him. Loves Richard Curtis movies and comedy panel shows. Has the sense of humor to show for it, too.

Somewhere along the way, he caught Y/N’s gaze from across the room as she performed her solo acoustic set. He subtly tilted his head towards Brooke, who had her back turned towards the bar, flashing a hopeful smile towards his friend.

“I’m gonna steer clear, or burn up in your atmosphere. I’m gonna steer clear, ‘cause I’d die if I saw you, I’d die if I didn’t see you...” she crooned, soft and wistful, in lieu of her usual witty smirk.

They locked eyes for a split second, he felt like she was singing straight to him. The pub suddenly cleared out, the distance closed between them, and she might as well be a breath away from him. And he didn’t know what to make of it. What the hell was she trying to say? That she wanted him but she couldn’t?

The moment was gone as quickly as it started, and Y/N looked out to the audience. It’s incredibly subtle, but Tom could see her switch back into performing mode.

“Think I’m gonna stay, gonna stay in the gray.” she looked out into the distance. “All the streetlights say never mind, never mind. And the canyon lights say never mind. Sunset says we see this all the time. Never mind, never you mind.”

The crowd’s cheers and applause were like a fresh slap in Tom’s face, awaking him from his thoughts. He’s imagining things, he’s sure of it. Y/N has been nothing but a good friend through this ordeal and he’s reading too much into the smallest things she does. That’s not fair. Brooke was right there with him and she deserved his undivided attention. So he turned to her and said,

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

They were enjoying themselves. She was pretty vanilla, all tender kisses and quiet sighs, which Tom didn’t mind at all. He kind of liked it that way. No fancy stuff, no adventurous kinks that pose a lot of risks, no pretense that this is anything more than it looks like… it was just that.

Nice.

Well.

Up until they were done, but the couple in the next room… wasn't. It was a uniquely awkward thing to lie there with ragged breaths and inadvertently listen to more intense, ragged breaths through the wall. And frankly, it made Tom second guess just how much Brooke really enjoyed herself.

He sighed, annoyed. "I'm really sorry. My flatmate is... I swear to God--"

"It's okay," she waved him off, sitting up from Tom’s arm. "I think I should go, though."

"Oh." his eyes followed her around the room, gathering her discarded clothes. Putting her shoes back on. Shuffling around to find her purse.

Tom kissed her goodnight at the front door, and then simply threw himself back into bed, deflated. Blindly reaching for his AirPods to keep out all the commotion --he’s been telling himself he’s not annoyed, but maybe now he is.

Just a little.

Partly at his roommate, for ruining a perfectly nice evening with a perfectly nice girl. And maybe, just maybe, at himself for briefly thinking Y/N was giving him time of day like that.

And he is fully planning to set things straight first thing in the morning.

***

Y/N wakes up cranky.

She’s had one too many drinks after her little solo set-- partly from the rush of testing out new unreleased songs, partly from annoyance that Tom bailed on her mid-performance. But mostly from that split second she may have revealed too much to Tom.

Oh, the scene plays out so clearly even amidst her persistent hangover. The harsh jet of water from the shower does nothing to obscure the memory of his dumb smile, fading away as he caught her in a moment of brutal honesty. I’d die if I saw you, I’d die if I didn’t see you. He saw it, and dipped. With that pretty blonde, no less.

She shuffles into the kitchen, hoping to get her coffee without bumping into him. But, of course, Tom's already beat her to it and hands over a fresh brew in her favorite 'let’s keep the dumbfuckery to a minimum' cup.

"You are godsend. I love you so much," she murmurs, her voice low and raspy in the morning.

"You talkin' to me or the coffee?"

"The coffee," she answers immediately, still managing to maintain the facade. "But you're alright too."

"Gee, thanks."

She sips her coffee in silence. "How'd it go with, um… the blonde girl last night?"

He stretches his arm, muscles flexing right before her eyes. "Brooke? It was good. Didn't stay the night, though. Figured it was a bit too loud too--"

Before Tom could finish giving her shade, he stops at the sound of approaching footsteps from her room. Y/N turns, finding a girl walking this way. Her yellow dress and warm smile are bright against her stunning dark skin. She remembers how wonderful she was last night --sweet and eager and right in more ways than one. But now her presence just feels… out of place.

"I had a great time last night." she leans down to give Y/N a long, hard kiss, and Tom makes it a point to mind his own fucking business and not make any eye contact, busying himself with his tea.

Y/N pulls away, gently tucks a few strands of the girl’s box braids behind her ear. "Alright, darling. I'll see you around?"

"See you." she steps back with a wave, but then stops in her tracks when her eyes catch Tom’s.

Oh, no. Tom knows that look. She clocked him. And the last thing he wants is to get recognized in his own home by his flatmate's hookup at 8 in the fucking morning.

"Hey, aren't you--"

"Tom Holland? Yeah, he gets that a lot," Y/N smoothly intercepts. "This is Nick Miller...ton. My friend Nick Millerton. Nicky, this is Lana."

"What’s the craic, darling?" Tom greets her in an Irish accent, taking a whole two seconds to realize how dumb he must have sounded, and how much it's killing Y/N to stay cool.

"Sorry, I thought…" she responds from her spot, somewhat embarrassed by her 'mistake.' "Anyway. Bye, guys."

They smile and wave until the door shuts behind her. Click, and then their heads whip toward each other.

"Nick Millerton? You've been watching too much New Girl," he scoffs at her.

"Oh, and giving yourself an Irish accent is a good idea?" she retorts. "You sound like a walking stereotype!"

"Well, jokes on you because I've been sitting down this whole time!"

Y/N burst out laughing, and just like that, the tension between them has died down. It’s that easy.

And as quickly as it crashes in, as quickly it fades away, and soon enough, they’re left with a heavy silence.

Tom puts his mug down, trying to play it off casually. "So... I suppose things went well with Lana?"

She mutters behind her coffee cup, "You can say that."

"Oh, come on! We both know that's an understatement." Tom cries impatiently, then pauses thoughtfully. "How do you even make 'em sound like that?"

"It's really just about… paying attention. Figure out what works, and work it. You're an actor, you get it." You’ve played pretend and pleased an audience, she thinks.

"I mean, I like to think I'm alright, but those girls… shit. What are you, a pussy whisperer or something?"

She chuckles, absentmindedly opening her Twitter. "I can teach you if you want."

And just like that, a hush falls over the room. Tom just stares at her. Trying to process what she really just offered him. He's not even sure what she offered. And somehow, the first thing that comes out of his mouth is,

"I… didn't even know you liked me like that."

And Y/N softens. Quiets down. And there he caught her again. One of those moments of brutal honesty. And Y/N figures if she plays it cool and nonchalant, he would drop it.

"You walk around the house half-naked, sweaty, looking like that, painting and woodworking and shit… 'course I'm attracted to you.” she shrugs, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

But Tom knows her too well. He sees right through her and presses on. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were getting over a relationship! I didn’t wanna make things more complicated for you.”

“So you just… keep bringing all these random people to shag?”

“I gotta channel all that energy somewhere, right?”

There’s no denying, no charming her way into an excuse anymore. Not only has she been pining over her long-time best friend, she also has a batshit way of coping with it. She can see the gears turning in his head, and once it clicks, it’s over for her.

No more company. No more friend, probably.

Tom slowly leans back into his chair, choosing his words carefully as he speaks his mind, "I've... always been into you, too. Like, since school, if you can believe it.”

“What?”

“Why’d you think I freaked out so much when I got high the first time? I was worried I might… slip and say that I’m head over balls in love with you,” he admits, his eyes stubbornly glued to his clasped hands.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she echoes his exact question not even five minutes ago.

He shakes his head, staring far out the window. “I don’t know. We’re friends… I just thought-- I don’t wanna make things complicated between us.”

It’s fucking hilarious to hear it back, and Y/N can’t help but laugh. Her whole face lights up and there’s no way Tom could go another second without being infected by her mirth. Their eyes meet again --voluntarily honest, for the first time. The warmth of their friendship somewhat cloaks them, but not quite. There’s an air of… newness over them.

“Oh God…” Y/N rubs the bridge of her nose. “So what now?”

The boy is quiet for a moment, giving it a good thought. “I mean, we can finish our breakfast or… we can, you know, go back to bed. Together.”

The cocky glint in his eyes is back, and she stares for a moment, wondering how much he meant it. “Would you like to?” she tilts her head to the side inquisitively.

"Well… yeah,” he admits in earnest.

She puts down her cup, making a soft thunk against the table. "Let's go, then."

Y/N truly brings out the best and the worst of him. Tom’s nervousness is now overshadowed by the strong desire to prove her wrong. Wrong about what, he’s not entirely sure.

He squares up and looks her in the eye. "My room or yours?"

"Up to you."

"I got fresh sheets?" he offers.

"Deal.” Y/N smiles. Then, she leans in over the table as if going for a kiss, making Tom’s heart leap out of his chest, and stops a breath away. “Race you to your room.”

She may be quick in her banters, but Tom is quicker in his movement. Within a few strides, he manages to wrap his arms around her waist, giggling like a maniac as he turns her around. They’re already breathless from laughing, the warmth emanating from each other akin to a part of their own. And when their lips finally touch, it takes an extra three seconds for it to really sink in.

He tastes sweet and earthy. Of black tea and honey. His lips are as soft as she imagined him to be, although he kisses a little rougher than he looks, mouth hungrily chasing hers. And how could he not? This unbelievable, impossible girl is melting into his kiss, all too glad to let him take her into bed.

He pushes her into bed, stares at her sprawled up on the mattress as he takes off his ratty t-shirt, climbing on top of her with a newfound gusto.

But when he closes in on her, she smiles. “I win.”

“Huh?”

“Told you I’d race you to your bed, right?”

“Maybe I let you win. Make it fair.” he nuzzles her nose, nipping at her lower lip.

"Why, because you're gonna lose?" she’s quick to capture his lip between her teeth.

He rolls his eyes. "Exactly, so just let me have this, alright?”

“Ugh, fine,” she dramatically groans, throwing herself back into bed.

He swerves down to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses down the side. His finger tread the line where her bare skin meets the fluffy bathrobe, following its path to the knot on her torso. With one tug, he unveils her bare body like a newly minted sculpture.

“Holy fuck." his big brown eyes impossibly darken at the sight of your tits. "I waited ten years to make a move on you?”

She humphs. “You and me both, bro.”

“Don’t call me ‘bro’ in bed.”

“Gotcha.” Y/N nods along, pulling him in for another kiss.

He loves how filthy her kisses are. Tongue laving into his mouth, nose clashing into his, teeth biting at his lower lip. Tom is both scared and horny for what comes next.

He pulls away, brows furrowed in curiosity. “I do mean it, though. How do you make ‘em sound like that?”

“Why? You got more girls to bang after this?” Y/N smirks playfully.

“No, there’s just this one girl… heard she’s pretty good in bed, so I wanna show her a good time," he pouts, playing up his boyish charms as he draws patterns on her hip.

“Nice.” she grins at him, not so much flattered as she is amused by his efforts.

“Thank you, I try.”

“Well, I told you it’s all about figuring out what she likes.” she toys with his curls, twirling it around her fingers. “So… why don’t you go ahead and find out?”

And with that, off he roams all over her chest. Marking his trail with kisses all the way to the swell of her breast. The hitch in her breath doesn't go amiss when he sucks a pert nipple, nor does the little moan when he pinches the other. He nips at the hardened, dusky brown thing and she moans. Crystal clear on his ear, as opposed to distant echoes through the walls.

"Ooh, you like it rough, don't you?" His face lights up like a fucking naughty boy with a new toy.

She smiles blissfully, giving his hair a firm tug. Sure enough, his eyes close and mouth opens in pleasure.

"Apparently, so do you," she retorts, not missing a beat, feeling his erection with her thigh. "Go on, off you pop."

He feigns annoyance, pushing her thigh aside and pinning it down with his own so she's spread wide open. His hand glides down between her legs and nearly slips from the wetness.

Their eyes meet --openly, deliberately- and he watches her eyelids grow heavy as he massages her swollen clit. Her sharp, keen eyes glaze over as he rubs faster. Presses harder. He watches her jaw drop as he slides a long, thick finger inside of her.

"Fuck!" she rolls her hips as he pumps into her, one finger and then another. Shamelessly showing how much pleasure she gets from his massive hand.

And through it all, she watches him, too. She watches the frown between his eyebrows as he concentrates on finding the right rhythm, right vibe for her. The dirty glint in his eyes when he makes her twist and turn. The half-lidded, slack-jawed look he's sporting as she arches into his scissoring hand with no shame.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop…" she rambles on feverishly, eyes rolling back as her orgasm looms near.

And he doesn't. With his thumb on her clit and two fingers pumping in and out of her pussy, he watches her come undone --twisting and turning and moaning, all from this. From him.

And he doesn't stop. Not until she's literally jolting from the touch and squirming away from him.

"Jesus Christ, you're pretty as fuck," Tom pulls away, eyes glazed with wonder as he licks his wet, sticky fingers clean.

Y/N will have to get used to these compliments, because right now, she could feel the warmth creeping up on her cheeks. "Stop it."

He blushes, growing hot himself. "So how'd I do?" he sidles up next to her and gathers her into his chest.

"Not bad…" she can't resist the temptation to fuck with him. "I'll give you a B plus."

"B plus?!" he gasps, tickling your side until you're absolutely wheezing and crying for mercy.

"Alright, fine!" Y/N swats his hand away. "A minus. Because you're insufferable."

"Sure, you don't look like you're enjoying yourself much…" he rolls his eyes, a lighthearted smile tugs on a corner of his lips and she can't resist kissing him then.

"Want me to show you how it's done?" she quirks an eyebrow.

"Do you worst." He's all too happy to let her get on top, watching her shrug off the bathrobe.

Gosh, what a sight is she to behold. Perched on his lap with wild tousled hair and kiss-worn lips like some forest fae. Ready to enchant him. Or curse him.

Either way, he'd die a happy man.

Her mouth is everywhere. She takes the time experimenting how she kisses, licks, and bites him. Slow and thorough. It drives him mad, really.

"Fuckin' hell, Y/N…"

"Hmm?" she mouths at his earlobe, her voice seems to surge right into his dick, all light and airy and deceivingly innocent.

He groans, unable to voice what he wants. He's not even sure what it is he wants. He just wants… more.

She rubs him through his sweatpants and he couldn't buck into her touch fast enough.

"Is this where you want me?" she murmurs into his neck.

But her mouth latches onto his skin, warm and soft with an edge at the same time, and he couldn't shake off the idea of it on his hard length.

"Fucking suck me off," he mutters, "Please."

She pulls away, and he's not sure if she's gonna indulge him right away or mess with him some more. "Well. Since you asked so nicely…"

Y/N tugs his pants down and bites back a grin when his dick slaps onto his stomach, eager to get out of its restraints.

Tom's heartbeat echoes right on his eardrums. His clothes and bedsheets might as well rustle like foil wraps to him as reality sets in. She straddles his thigh and puts a steady hand on the base of his cock. This is really happening.

A moment's silence as she puts her mouth on him.

She is every bit as sensual as she is with her kisses. Slobbering along his shaft with the underside of her tongue, tasting the leaking pre-cum on his tip, taking his whole length down her throat… His surroundings fade to black; in that moment, there's no thin walls, no decorum, no fucking pretense anymore.

"Holy fuck, Y/N, feels so fucking good--" he groans as she pulls back and sinks back in around him.

"So fucking mouthy," she chuckles lazily.

The vibrations from her voice make him thrust into her mouth, one two three times before she gags. But instead of pushing away from him, she grabs his ass, nail digging into his skin as she controls his movement.

She's so good, so warm, so… tight around him that his brain short-circuits. For a hot second, the only thing on his mind is coming inside her, before he realizes he hasn't even been inside her.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Tom slurs, tugging her hair back, her mouth emptied of his cock with a pop. "Don't-- wanna be inside you when I come."

"You were inside me."

"No, not your mouth," he all but whines, "Your, uh…"

"My what?" she challenges, catching the way he blushes. "Say it."

"Your cunt." There’s a bite to how he says it and it’s truthfully hot as fuck.

Y/N smirks, smug and devilish, as she crawls over to his bedside drawer for a condom. Behind her, Tom greedily nips at her hip, hand trailing up her inner thigh to find her soaking cleft once more.

"Where the fuck is your-- oh!" she gasps, feeling his mouth on her pussy, gripping the edge of his drawer at the shock.

The search for the condom is halted as Tom shifts the focus on her cunt. He grabs her hips and eats her out from behind, tracing out new patterns on her clit and her slit as she bends down on all fours. She’s absolutely dripping out of her core, and he can’t get enough. She tastes so good, and she sounds even better, trembling through her second orgasm.

“Check under my Advil and sleeping mask.” He bites at the swell of her butt cheek and lets her off.

She turns toward him with a surprised and dirty look. "Aren't you a surprise."

"Still think I'm a B plus?"

"A minus," she corrected. "And we'll see how your dick game goes first, bro."

He catches the condom she throws his way. "Stop calling me bro, it's such a boner killer."

"I don't think it is, bro." she grins as she straddles his hips, feeling his very much persistent boner between their stomachs.

Tom smacks her thigh in response.

"Alright, alright. Take it easy, buddy."

"Buddy?! Fuck y--" his words are cut off with a moan as Y/N sinks down on his cock with absolutely zero warning.

She revels in the pleasant burn of his cock stretching her walls. He fills her up so well-- no amount of toys or fingers or imagination could ever compare. It just feels different. It feels… like Tom.

"You were saying?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Shut the fuck up." He grabs the back of her head and gives her a bruising kiss as she starts to bounce on his beautiful, curving length.

She laughs, which makes her clench around him tighter. He throws his head back and pulls her closer, moaning in her ear. Mouth crassly seeking her tits. Finding himself lost in her catch and release.

God, what bliss.

He matches the motion of her hips with every thrust. Hitting the deepest parts of her even she never knew before. And the words cease. No quips. No banter. Their mouths are too occupied with more pressing-- more carnal matters. Just unrestrained, unapologetic cries of pleasure, released into the still, morning air. Heat building up as their pace grows more erratic.

Y/N grabs a handful of his hair as Tom hits her sweet spot and rubs her swollen little nub. Again and again and again until they're completely shrouded in waves of pleasure coursing through their veins. Cock and cunt pulsating in unison.

"Holy fuck." Tom's the first to speak up, arms still wrapped around Y/N, who's currently flopped on top of him. "No wonder those people you brought home would go screaming their tits off."

She smiles lazily, looking up at him. "I think we both got game."

He matches her dopey grin and gives her a crisp high-five and a hearty kiss. Things will be just fine between them.

***

please reblog, send me asks, talk to me if you enjoy my work! thank you so much for reading 💗💗💗

#tom holland #lord pls let the tags work #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland smut #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland x musician!reader #tom holland x flatmate!reader #ava writes

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cupofteaguk · 4 years

Text

on the road (to you)

summary: as a young adult, one of the strangest revelations is the discovery that peers of yours from past fragile college years are getting married. so imagine your shock and excitement upon receiving a wedding invitation. there are, however, two problems: (1) you are a poor early-20s recently employed adult just beginning to adjust to your 401k plan, and (2) the only available ride to the wedding comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook—friend of a friend, attendee to that aforementioned wedding, and your old college crush.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: roadtrip au, strangers to lovers au | fluff/angst

warnings: recreational alcoholic consumption, definitely not an accurate representation of how a road trip might actually be, mentions of anxiety + insecurities, very minor book reference to: The Night Circus, equally minor movie references to: Mission Impossible and The Princess Bride because I have a problem, light makeout sessions, talks of DTR (define the relationship), some angst but this is me so there’s a happy ending.

word count: 27k

a/n: a birthday present for the one and only Jeon Jungkook, whom I love and respect so much and only wish the bestest of days for. Partly inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “invisible string” + a love letter of sorts to my own old high school crush for whom my memory of him helped build Jungkook’s character. This also turned out way longer than I ever wanted it to be lol oops!

update: i was actually able to do a writer’s audio tag on this fic!!! check it out if you want to hear about the behind the scenes process that went into writing this fic <3

When you land a job in the months following your college graduation, you feel as if you are on top of the world. How could you not? After all, the norm that follows post-college is one of disappointment and constant hunts online to find job openings for any position that could suit your background and previous work experiences. It’s a fear that plagues lots of your friends, both those in college and out. It’s the same paranoia you had in the months leading up to graduation and the few months after graduation—in which your days were measured by the boxes you packed to move out of your tiny college apartment and into an equally tiny new apartment you currently share with an old roommate of yours, as well as the days you spent hunched over your computer and scrolling through job postings.

You had gone through more than a handful of cover letters, resume submissions, and in person interviews before finally landing the job you currently have and have been working under for a month now.

Throughout the course of the recent month, you’ve continued to secure certain moments that solidify the confidence that you’re finally becoming an adult. Sure, a barely functioning adult who mostly still uses the microwave to heat up your frozen Mac and Cheese—but an adult nonetheless. From learning how to pay your bills online, to realizing that grocery shopping was something you needed to make a conscious effort to do, along with going to and from your nine to five job with your coffee order in hand.

All of those things have helped you feel like you were, perhaps, finally getting your life together.

And then you receive the invitation in the mailbox.

It happens when you unlock your box on a bright March morning, taking out the usual round of bills and fashion magazines until your fingers lock around an envelope bigger than the normal letter size. It’s much sturdier too.

You don’t know what to think of the letter, until you bring the damn thing back into your apartment and rip the opening. The mere sight of the content inside makes you feel like the hand of life has just taken your figurine and moved you back a good twenty squares.

The post in your hand reads:

WITH GREAT JOY, IRENE AND SEOKJIN REQUEST THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE FOR THEIR WEDDING CELEBRATION ON THE DAY OF MAY 25TH. COCKTAILS, DINNER, AND DANCING TO FOLLOW.

There’s a date at the bottom of the invitation. As you line the date up with your calendar, you realize that you have a week to RSVP to the event.

You toss the envelope onto the counter in the kitchen just to glare at the cardstock, maybe to convince yourself this is a dream or at least convince yourself that it’s normal for your friend from college to be getting married even when you have yet to land a successful relationship of your own.

You aren’t as close with Irene as you used to be, but the memory of your friendship is still at the forefront of your mind. The pair of you met during your final year of university, when you were assigned to work together for one of your many senior projects and immediately clicked. The months you spent in her apartment and vice versa pulling out all-nighters in desperate attempts to finish your project definitely earns you an invitation. At the very least, you are happy to see that Irene: bright and smart and funny, is getting married.

Not only that, but getting married to Seokjin. He’s a year older than you and Irene, but those two met when he was still enrolled and have been inseparable ever since. You don’t know relationships that well, but you know them enough to recognize that Seokjin and Irene were what everyone called the ‘endgame’. In truth, it was only a matter of time before you were to receive one of these from them.

But did she really have to one-up you like this? Not that it’s a competition. However, it does leave a funny feeling to see someone the same age as you display a much more put together handle on life. You groan at the thought.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Karly asks.

You turn to your roommate. She’s seated at the kitchen table, books out and everywhere as she looks over at you. Karly: fellow alumni, graduated from her undergrad program early to go straight into pursuing her master’s degree. She’s a busy bee. You wave the envelope. “Irene is getting married.”

Her eyes widen. “Ah shit, no way?” She takes the paper that you offer to her and looks over the invitation. “Damn, I knew it was only a matter of time before we started getting this stuff, but to actually see it happening…”

You groan. “I know right!” You take the cardstock back from your friend. “It’s only been six months since we graduated, how could she be getting married already?”

“Well, Irene did have a job lined up for her right after graduation,” Karly points out thoughtfully. She sees the look of bewilderment you give her. “What? It was on her Instagram.”

You pout. “Of course Irene would have a job lined up like that.” You run a hand through your hair. “I mean, that’s good for her. Really good, actually…”

Karly jerks her chin towards the envelope still in your hand. “So, are you planning to go?”

“I don’t know, do you have plans that day?” You wave the paper. “I’m allowed a plus one.”

Your roommate cracks a smile. “Are you asking me out? A little forward of you, we’ve been friends for so long…”

You whine, shaking the paper and little more frantically. “Karly, this is important! I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone!”

She laughs. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What was the date again?”

You provide the date to her. You approach Karly’s place at the kitchen table and watch as she opens the calendar on her laptop. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by all the deadlines she’s got under practicality every date on the screen. Yet, a “wow” is the only thing you can say at the sight.

Karly smiles, sparing you a glance over her shoulder. “One of the joys of being a grad student slash T.A. slash research assistant.” She scrolls down into May, and narrows her eyes upon May 25th. Underneath the date is an event—color coated to bright orange and typed out in all caps. CONFERENCE WITH PROFESSOR WONG. “Oh crap, I have a conference that day.”

“No…” You whine some more, trailing off as you grab Karly by the shoulders and begin shaking. “Karly! You’ve left me out for the bears! What am I supposed to do?”

Karly laughs as she lets herself be manhandled in this way. “I don’t know! Go and deepen your social life or something.”

You stop shaking her and glare instead. “Is that a joke?”

“What do you expect me to say?” She retorts, appalled by your answer. “Then don’t go.”

You whine again. “But this is Irene, and I’ll feel bad for not going and congratulating her!”

“Then go!”

“But I don’t have a plus one!”

Karly places her hands at her temples. “Oh my god, this is like the circle of stupidity with you. Then find a plus one! Or just don’t go!” She whirls around to face you. “I will help you find a dress if you decide to go. I will also sit with you on the couch and eat popcorn with you if you decide not to go.”

You continue to pout, knowing that you deserve that gentle attempt at a lecture but still not liking the reason why you needed such a talking to.

“Fine,” You eventually decide to say, sliding into the seat next to Karly and leaning forward to plant your entire upper body on the table.

Karly laughs at your defeated posture. “Well, you have the rest of the week to make your decision.”

She has a point. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

For the rest of the week the decision of whether or not you should attend the wedding becomes a weight in your mind. You spend the next few days pondering it, thinking over the pros and the cons.

As overdramatic as it is, you think about it during work, when you’re partaking in your home workout routines, and even when you’re about to fall asleep. You do want to go, you really do. It’ll be the first time you attend a wedding that didn’t involve a relative, which feels like a big deal in your adult agenda mindset. And Irene is someone you wouldn’t mind spending an evening with to catch up.

However, you wouldn’t get to spend the evening with Irene—after all, a wedding implies that she would likely be mingling with all of her guests and you would just be another attendee forced to find other means of entertainment. That’s where the plus one comes in handy. Except you don’t have a plus one. A slight problem.

You sigh. Work is a little slow today, as you are also experiencing the afternoon slump in which your mind drifts away more often than usual. You find yourself with a small laundry list of tasks (such as emailing companies, working on drafts for releases, and trying to set up different appointments) but without the motivation to do those things right away. Because of that, your afternoon slump takes the form of opening airline services to find information and prices about flying to Irene’s wedding. It’s in her hometown, about a five hour flight time from here to there.

You click on the various boxes that require information, finally allowing a search. As the search goes through, your eyes take in all the prices—both the amount to get there and to get back—and your lips part slightly at the totaling numbers.

“Five hundred dollars?” You mutter to yourself. You’re not sure how this would work with budgeting, but you’re still trying to figure out how to balance the cost of AC, the internet, and how to eat appropriate meals at least once a day. You don’t have five hundred dollars to spend on an airplane ticket. A slightly bigger problem.

You sigh again, resting your elbow on the desk and your chin in the palm as your eyes continue to scroll through the website.

Behind you, fingers curl around the top of your cubicle. There is a silence between the two of you: him, merely observing, and you, completely oblivious, until he clears his throat.

You jump, having not expected to be interrupted like this. A squeak leaves the back of your throat as you whirl around to see who is visiting you. “Jimin!” You exclaim, taking in the boy now perched along the wall of your cubicle. This is before you narrow your eyes. “Asshole, you scared me!”

If you just started working here and learned that you’d be cursing out Park Jimin for startling you, that past version of yourself might have turned red, shocked, and nervous at the thought. A month ago, Jimin was that coworker—as friendly as friendly people come by. With his pretty eyes, perfectly soft pink lips, and freshly dyed brown hair, you had been immediately taken by his charm and helpful nature.

Then the month went by, and you realized there were no romantic intentions on either end. Jimin then became your first friend in your new job. Albeit, he’s a nosy friend who enjoys asking questions and dragging you out to nearby bars and coming over occasionally with take-out, but a friend nonetheless.

“Sorry!” Jimin says back, then he glares at you. “What are you doing over here anyways?”

You shake your head. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? You’ve been sighing all afternoon.” Jimin pulls out a slip of paper from behind his back. “Fifty times in the last hour, I swear to god.”

You straighten out of your seat to get a better look at the paper, unamused to find fifty tally marks across the surface. “You’re lying, there’s no way that I sighed fifty times in an hour.”

“Of course you wouldn’t know, you’re the one doing all the sighing!” Jimin retorts, lowering his hand with the paper. “Is something up with you? Did something happen?” His eyes flicker to the monitor screen behind you and he frowns. “What the fuck? Are you moving away already?”

You blink. “What?”

He jerks his chin towards the computer. “You’re looking at flight prices.”

“Huh?” You turn around, having completely forgotten about your previous predicament in light of discovering that Jimin counts your sighs. “Oh! No…”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “No, you’re not looking at flight prices?”

You slide back into your chair, a silent invitation for Jimin to step further into your cubicle. You sigh again, and he holds the paper back up. Taking a pencil out of his pocket, he makes another mark. You look over at him upon hearing the pencil scratch and scowl. “Give me that!” You grab the paper from his hand. “I’m dealing with a crisis right now, don’t count my sighs!”

“Alright! Alright!” Jimin slides behind you and leans forward to get a better look at your computer screen. “So where are you moving to this time?”

You press your lips together. “I’m not moving away. A friend of mine from college is getting married. I’m just trying to see how expensive it would be to fly over there.”

He whistles at the five hundred dollar price in your cart. “That’s pretty expensive.”

“I know!” You groan, throwing yourself further back into your chair. “I wouldn’t mind going, but I don’t have a plus one. And as you can see, flying there would be a challenge on my wallet.”

Jimin hums at that. “Well, regarding your plus one problem, I wouldn’t mind going with you.”

You turn to look at him. “Really? You’d go across the country and endure an entire evening with your coworker and her old college classmates?”

He shrugs. “If you’re desperate, I’ll keep my offer around.” He actually pouts this time. “Are you implying that you see me more as a coworker than a friend? After all the times we’ve hung out outside of work!”

Your eyes widen slightly, having not thought of that. “No, no, Jimin, I mean—yes, I do see you as a friend now but we met as coworkers so I just think of you as a coworker first—!” You’re rambling.

Jimin interrupts by patting your shoulder, the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. “I’m just messing with you.”

You shake your head again. “Asshole,” You grumble, returning your attention back to your computer.

Jimin is still mid-laughter behind you. “Anyways, yeah, like I said. If you’re desperate to go, I wouldn’t mind going with you. But deciding how to get there is a different question entirely.”

You turn to glare at your friend for a moment. “I’ll let you know.”

He nods, before his lips part and he’s snapping his fingers. “Oh yeah! I wanted to ask you something.”

He backs up, allowing you enough space to turn around fully and face him. “Okay, what’s up?”

Jimin grins, lifting his leg up to nudge your chair slightly. “I’m going out tonight—you should come with.”

You don’t even give this a second thought. Your lips turn into a downwards curl as you shake your head. “Nope.”

Jimin looks appalled. “Why not? Didn’t you have fun the last time we went out?”

“If ‘fun’ to you is trying to drag your drunk ass home and staying the night to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your vomit…” You grumble, trying not to shudder at the memory. It has only been a few days since that ‘fun’ time.

“I told you that sometimes I overestimate my abilities, and I already apologized for that,” Jimin points out, although he does have the decency to look guilty for that mess. He perks up again. “But this’ll be different, I promise. I’m meeting up with some friends and we’re just gonna catch up. It’s at one of the quieter bars uptown: no loud DJ, no bright lights, no bottomless rum and coke. Promise. It’ll just be a lot of socializing.” He watches you hesitantly. Socializing has never been your strong suit. “And finger food.”

The mention of food does make you look up towards him—your first sign of interest towards something. However, another thought weighs you down. “Are you sure you even want me to go?” You ask after a moment. “I mean, this is a catch up with friends. Wouldn’t I be intruding?”

“Not at all!” Jimin brushes off, waving away your concern with his hand. “I told you, it’s a socializing thing. Besides, my friends are always bringing someone along. They were asking me when I’d have a friend tag along, so I thought you’d be a good selection.” He notices you still frowning. “C’mon! It’ll be fun. When I’m not vomiting over your shoes, I’m good company. And I promise I won’t be vomiting this time.”

You stare at Jimin for a moment longer, contemplating his words. This is very true. Jimin is an ideal friend to have during social gatherings—he’s good at keeping a conversation going so you don’t have to shoulder the weight alone, he’s good at reading when you’re in a good mood and when you’re ready to go home, and he’s excellent at keeping unwanted attention away. You know this. Jimin knows that you know this.

It takes one curl of your lips for Jimin to grin, knowing that he has convinced you. “Okay!” He says, finalizing the decision without having to hear the actual answer from you. He pats your knee. “We’ll take the subway after work, it’s just a few stops down.”

If your mind conjures up any second thoughts, Jimin leaves before you are able to express them.

True to Jimin’s word, the pair of you step into a subway heading westbound as soon as you’re finished with work. It’s much later in the day now, the afternoon sun has changed into a night sky with a chill spring breeze to match. The carts are filled with the evening crowd of adults, all done with another day of work and finding enjoyment for the rest of today by returning home or seeing friends. It’s a rarity that you would fall under that latter category, but the thought makes you excited nonetheless.

“Alright, so you wanna tell me a little bit about these friends that I’m seeing tonight?” You ask, gripping the handlebar above you but leaning towards Jimin so he can hear what you’re saying over the noise of the subway speeding down the tracks.

Jimin grins. “They’re just some friends I grew up with. We like to get together once a month to catch up and hang out, since everyone is so busy with their own lives.”

You smile back. “That’s actually really sweet of you guys, to plan hangouts once a month.”

He lightly flicks your forehead. “Hey, are you saying I’m normally not very sweet?”

“Well, not right now!” You protest, hand over your forehead. “That hurt.”

“You’re being a baby!” Jimin retorts back.

The pair of you continue to bicker like this until your stop is announced over the intercom. Jimin halts the further insults being thrown at each other as he gestures towards the approaching station, as seen through the window of the subway.

“This is our stop,” Jimin says to you, allowing you to step out onto the platform first. He joins behind you right after, leading the way as the subway’s three chimes signal the closing of the doors. There’s a breeze that follows, running through your hair and clothes as the subway zooms away to its next stop. The station itself is crowded, filled with groups of friends and individuals carrying on with the rest of their evening, overall looking so lively and you can feel yourself feeding off their energy.

With a gesture pointing up the stairs that’ll take the pair of you to ground level, Jimin leads the way. You make your way through people, following Jimin’s guide until you’re both exiting the station and entering the world of your new stop. It’s another area of the city you work in, so the change in scenery isn’t too dramatic—but it’s a place more catered towards restaurants, shopping areas, and hang-out sections. The bright neon signs protrude out from the building, flashing the various products or services the specific building offered: from manicure care to corner ramen shops.

“C’mon, let’s hurry!” Jimin calls back to you, picking his pace up slightly. He’s not running, but his long legs make it harder for you to keep up. “Everyone is already there.”

The pair of you continue to pace down the sidewalk, past the crowds of people waiting to eat, people lingering outside of clothing stores. Finally, Jimin slows down near a restaurant. He looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still behind him, before entering the establishment. He mentions something about knowing where their seats are, before continuing deeper into the restaurant.

As you look around, the place does look like a restaurant slash bar—not as crazy as some of the bars Jimin takes you with the intention of actually getting drunk, but there’s still a bar here and there’s still alcohol being shared heavily. It’s the same demographic of early 20s, young adults with friends, but there are actual tables and chairs and booths set up like a restaurant. So you suppose Jimin hadn’t been lying to you about this.

“There they are!” Jimin says to you, as you look up and follow Jimin’s finger to the table in the far corner that is completely filled with the exception of two seats. You vaguely make out the back of some heads, most belonging to boys, before your eyes land on one of the boys facing you and Jimin. He’s sitting at the far end of the table, currently laughing brightly at something one of the boys at the table has said. For all intents and purposes, the boy is cute. Extremely cute. When he laughs, his eyes and nose crinkle and his lips spread into a wild smile—and brings out the dimple on his cheek. He looks like the embodiment of all your ideal types mashed into a singular being.

All of those things. Yet, that is not the reason why you are staring. None of those things come close to why you stop dead in your tracks, why your heart drops in your chest, why your eyes widen. Even with the shitty lighting in this restaurant, you are one hundred percent positive. “Jimin!” You manage to choke out, having enough well power to grab onto his hand seconds before he is able to make himself and yourself known to his friends.

He whirls around, wide-eyed and curious and worried. “What? Is everything okay?”

You shake your head. The room feels too small. “I think there’s something I should tell you—!”

“Hey, is that Jimin? Jimin!” Your voice is very easily drowned out by the sound of another, much louder voice that seems to boom through the restaurant.

Jimin turns back around in time to face one of the boys from the table who has gotten out of his seat. You are able to see him from over Jimin’s shoulder—a tall boy with messy unkempt hair and a boxy smile. Jimin greets him with a “Taehyung!” before the boys embrace. “Taehyungie,” Jimin continues afterwards, turning around so both are able to face you. “This is Y/N, she’s a coworker of mine.”

Taehyung grins, a friendly gesture that makes you relax. But only slightly. “Y/N! It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a bit about you from Jimin. All good things, I promise.”

“W-Well, that’s good to hear,” You manage shakily, eyes nervously darting to the boy at the end of the table, who has stopped his conversation and is now looking at you and Jimin.

“Let me introduce you,” Jimin says, breaking your concentration as he rests a hand on your shoulder. He points right at the boy at the end of the table, who is still staring at you. His eyebrows are furrowed together. You want to bury yourself alive. “That one over there is—!”

A lightbulb seems to go off in the boy’s head. His face breaks out into a smile as he points at you. “Hey, Y/N!”

Jimin looks taken aback at the fact you are being recognized by someone at the table. His hand lowers as he looks over at you.

You, however, cannot focus on Jimin. You can only focus on the boy at the end of the table, the boy currently smiling over at you with all the light in his eyes, the boy who makes the memories flash through your mind. From that, the best you can manage is a tiny smile. “Jungkook!”

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Where do you even begin with him?

You met Jungkook during your second year of university. He had been an arts major (you were not) and yet, your paths crossed multiple times throughout the quarter as a result of sharing many general education classes together. You even were forced to pair up on a project for one of those aforementioned G.E. classes. Neither of you ran in the same social circle, but that didn’t change how sweet, funny, charming, endearing, easy-going, friendly, smart, and nice Jungkook was. It was very easy for him to make friends, very easy for him to go out of his way to say hi to you in the library or in class or in the cafeteria, and very easy for him to strike up a basic conversation with you.

Because of that, it was very easy for you to fall for him—to develop a deep-rooted crush that went on for the rest of your university experience. You would use the term ‘friends’ very loosely when describing what your relationship with Jungkook had been. You had never hung out with him outside the context of school, never went out to eat with him, and never saw him again after graduation. Until now.

Actually, ‘acquaintances’ would probably be a much more fitting term.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you since graduation!” Jungkook is saying as he stands up from his chair and approaches you. As if on autopilot, you return the one armed hug he gives you. His smile, while still pleasant, holds a surprising tinge of shyness to it.

“Woah, hold on a second,” Jimin interrupts, immediately pointing between Jungkook and you. “You guys know each other?”

“Y/N and I went to university together!” Jungkook provides.

Jimin looks like his eyes are about to fall out of his sockets.

“We’ve known each other since second year,” Jungkook continues. He looks over at you. “I didn’t know you know Jimin.”

“Uh…” You forget how to speak. You’re too busy looking at Jungkook as if you haven’t seen him for years. In a way, it feels like that. Seeing people from college outside of college after a graduation ceremony is like meeting them again for the first time—most of them develop a more independent look. Some look like their life is seconds from falling apart. Some look much happier without the institutional pressure to secure classes and grades and internships. Sadly for you, Jungkook falls under the latter category. Did he always have that twinkle of starlight in his eyes?

“Y/N and I work together,” Jimin provides, seeming to realize that you weren’t going to answer Jungkook’s question. “She started working about a month ago.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Jungkook replies, still looking at you. It is then he seems to notice that the three of you are standing in the middle of the restaurant. Although you are not distracting any patrons, the workers probably don’t appreciate it. “How about we sit down? We’ll be able to catch up more!”

Jimin seems to regain control of the situation quicker than you do, because he nods at Jungkook. “Let me introduce her to everyone, then we’ll join you.” You look over to where Jungkook had been sitting and immediately notice the previously empty two chairs right across from him—like fate, or something terrible like that.

So you watch as Jungkook makes his way back to his seat, and Jimin starts to guide you around the table. He only drops a name. Surprisingly, he doesn’t linger, he merely takes you to the next person. It only takes you a second to figure out why.

“You didn’t tell me you know Jungkook,” Jimin hisses in between the time it takes to travel in between people.

“I didn’t know you knew Jungkook!” You hiss back. You smile and nod politely at the person Jimin introduces as Yoongi. “Seriously, you never mentioned him once!”

Jimin only keeps his frustration for a moment before he’s introducing you to someone named Hoseok, a boy with a bright smile, the one who was making Jungkook laugh earlier. “Okay, fine,” He relents, the pair of you finally move to take your seats. “But what was that earlier?”

“What was what?”

“You were just staring at him! What, did you have a huge crush on him or something—?” Jimin accuses, but he stops. Just as the pair of you are about to sit down, Jimin parts his lips in realization. “Oh.” Then, he sends you an absolutely wicked grin. “Oh, okay.”

Your eyes widen at him, murder in your eyes. “Jimin!”

“So, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice cuts through your little biting banter with Jimin.

You whirl around to face Jungkook, eyes completely devoid of murder and voice several pitches higher. “Hi, Jungkook!”

He smiles, such a wonderful little thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Hi.”

Jimin ducks his head to hide the fact that he wants nothing more than to burst into fits of laughter.

“So how have you been?” Jungkook starts up. “I haven’t seen you since graduation. Since you landed a job, you seem to be doing well.”

“I am!” You manage, only continuing to try and keep a handle on your heart and managing well enough this time. “There were a few months of just scrolling through job postings and writing cover letter after cover letter though.”

Jungkook laughs, another beautiful gesture that makes you mirror his smile. “I definitely feel that.”

“Well, what about you? What have you been up to?” You ask. “I think I saw on your Instagram and you were traveling around for a little?”

His eyes light up at that. “Oh yeah! I don’t know if you remember Kim Mingyu from school?” You do. “Well, he and a friend of his got into some freelancing and had to do some traveling around to work on some filming. He asked me to come along because I actually have some photography experience. So that was a thing I did for a few months.”

You nod, smiling. “No way! That’s so cool.”

You do relax after a few conversational exchanges with Jungkook. He’s just as relaxed and mellow, yet friendly and polite as ever, and it’s easy to make conversation with him as it always has been. Eventually, you join in on the larger conversations with the whole table—touching on topics from your university experiences to tales from your new job. A lot of your role, however, falls to listening. Jimin’s friends are rowdy, funny, and out-going. They invite you in like you have been in this group for years—and are able to provide context on older memories they are revisiting.

Most of your evening, however, is engaging in conversation with Jungkook. Occasionally, Jimin will join in, but he does spend most of his time laughing along to something his other friends are saying. Since you and Jungkook have always been friendly with each other, long conversations aren’t out of the ordinary. You just never considered how well you and Jungkook got along, how easy it would be to transition from topic to topic.

“I am really glad that Jimin invited you along,” Jungkook explains brightly after the pair of you are done laughing following Jungkook’s tale of another fuck-ups with Kim Mingyu. “Makes you realize how small the world is.”

“Oh, you should have seen her moping around earlier today,” Jimin interjects, choosing now of all times to insert himself back into your conversation with Jungkook. “She was sighing all afternoon—so maybe we should thank her misery that I decided to invite her along tonight.”

Jungkook turns to you, a sympathetic look across his face. “Did you have a bad day today?”

You try for a laugh, waving away Jimin’s words. “Jimin’s just overreacting. Actually, I found out a friend of mine from college is getting married, so I was trying to figure out my plan…” You start, trailing off as you look at Jungkook. “Wait, you didn’t know Irene, did you?”

“I did.” His eyes widen as his lips part in realization. “Oh my god, you were invited to Irene’s wedding too?”

“I was!” You exclaim, unsure whether you should be excited or even more nervous at the prospect of potentially seeing Jungkook at the wedding event. “Holy shit, this makes it an even smaller world. How did you know Irene?”

Jungkook is still mid-giggle at the pure coincidence of everything. “We both knew Mingyu! This is so crazy. Are you planning to go?”

You shrug. Jimin chooses to interject once more. “That’s what Y/N over here was sighing all afternoon over.”

You whine as you look at Jimin. “No need to sell me out! Listen, Jungkook.” You turn back to the boy opposite of you, who is still gazing at you. “I’m sure you understand my current predicament.”

“Sure.”

“You know how expensive flights can be.”

“Of course.”

You fold your arms over each other and rest them on the table. “So, are you planning to go to the wedding?”

He nods. “Most likely, yeah. I actually knew that the wedding was going to be happening soon, since Mingyu told me about it as soon as Irene got the ring. I ran into the flight problem pretty quickly too, so I decided to just drive to the event.”

Jimin whistles. “Drive across the country, huh, JK? That must be a four day trip, or something.”

“It was coming out to be,” Jungkook acknowledges with a nod. “But it’s okay.” He’s grinning, looking excited at the prospect. “I’ve never done a cross country drive before, so it was actually kind of exciting to plan the route. There are a few places I want to stop by and visit. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Then, Jungkook turns back to you. “If you decide that flying would be too expensive, then you’re more than welcome to come along. It’ll be nice to have some company and not spend four days by myself.”

Entirely on instinct, you start to laugh. You think he’s joking—how could you not? This is probably one of the longest conversations you’ve ever had with Jungkook. Like you’ve mentioned before, you wouldn’t consider him a friend. Why would he seriously try to invite you on a road trip? “Yeah, I’m not too sure—I’ve never done a cross country trip before…”

The conversation shifts pretty quickly as soon as you reply back to Jungkook. Hoseok asks you a question that drags your attention away, simultaneously allowing you to forget about Jungkook’s request.

The end of the dinner happens soon after, when the bill has been paid and you suspect the long line of people outside waiting for a table are waiting for your party to be done. So venmo exchanges and money debts go around until each member of the table starts standing up one by one to make their move to exit the restaurant.

You and Jimin are one of the first to leave. Goodbyes are exchanged along with the polite ‘it was nice to meet you’ phrase thrown around. Jungkook is mid-conversation with Yoongi, but he still gives you a quick hug of parting before you and Jimin exit the restaurant.

The pair of you only make it out a few steps before there is a familiar voice calling your name. “Hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait up!” You stop and turn around, surprised to see Jungkook dashing out of the restaurant. He rests himself for a moment before he’s straightening back up to look at you.

You try for a smile. “Hey Jungkook, what’s up?”

He takes in a few more deep breaths to calm himself—either from the dashing he just did or to steel himself for the next question, you don’t know. “It’s about me inviting you to drive up to Irene’s wedding—I just thought I’d let you know it was a serious invitation. Having the company would be nice, and you wouldn’t be a burden to me, seriously. Besides, it’ll be fun to spend some time together.”

“O-Oh,” You stammer, wringing your hands together. “I’m not too sure… I still have to think about it.”

“Of course, of course,” Jungkook dismisses good naturedly. “Just thought I’d let you know, so you know that you do have options.”

Although the offer makes you nervous, you cannot dismiss Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. You give him a more relaxed smile. “I really appreciate that Jungkook, thank you.”

He smiles at your smile. “No problem! Actually…” He digs around for the wallet in his pocket and produces a little card. “Here’s my business card—my cell phone number is on here so just text or call if you decide to join me. Or,” He presses his lips into a more bashful smile. “You can just text me whenever for whatever reason. I just thought I’d let you know that it was good to see you again.”

You take the card slowly, unable to look away from Jungkook’s face. He looks so genuine and shy that it doesn’t help your own racing heart. “It was good to see you too, Jungkook…” You return, albeit a little breathlessly.

He smiles again, dimples pressing in his cheek (and your heart). He turns to Jimin “Oh yeah, nice seeing you too Park.”

“Hey.” Jimin hits him on the shoulder. “I’m your hyung, you should show me more respect!”

“My bad, my bad.” Jungkook doesn’t apologize though. His gaze flickers to yours one more time, gaze looking strangely hopeful. “I’ll see you guys around.” He walks backwards a few paces before turning around and returning to the restaurant. Maybe to see his other friends.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. You are still screaming internally regardless—as shown through your red cheeks, widened eyes, and singing heart. Jimin will certainly never let you live this moment down.

Now, you are screaming externally. You don’t even give a thought or an explanation. You simply walk into your apartment, nosedive for the couch, and start yelling into one of the throw pillows.

There’s a rapid movement of footsteps coming from down the hallway almost immediately, one that grows gradually louder until the owner of the steps starts speaking. “Who the fuck is out there? I’ve played softball my entire life and therefore will not hesitate to drive this bat so far up your ass—oh, Y/N.” The voice lowers significantly, as does the threat level it emits into the air. “It’s just you.”

You lift your face from the throw pillow, and immediately brush away at the hair that falls in your face. “What the fuck!” You croak, pushing yourself into a sitting position and pointing at the bat in Karly’s hands. “What are you doing threatening me with a bat? You’ve never played a game of softball in your life!”

“Oh, this isn’t mine. It’s Soonyoung’s.” Soonyoung is Karly’s boyfriend from high school, who used to play baseball on the high school team. How Karly has her boyfriend’s baseball bat is a mystery, but it’s something you think you are better off not asking about. She places the bat down on the carpet next to the coffee table. “But I should be asking you the questions, you bitch! You scared the shit out of me!”

You sigh, throwing your head to rest on the back of the couch. “Sorry, sorry. Had a crazy day.”

Karly ponders this as she moves to take a seat next to you. “You seemed fine when you texted me about you getting drinks with Jimin. Did something happen during the dinner?”

You straighten up again and grip Karly by the arm. “Okay, don’t scream.”

“You mean like you did?” Karly retorts dryly.

You shake her. “I’m serious!” When Karly doesn’t say anything, you take it as a sign to continue with your story. “I saw Jungkook.”

Karly blinks, then grabs your arm right back. “Wait, Jeon Jungkook, as in the guy you’ve been crushing on since second year?”

“Yes!” You whine, throwing yourself onto the couch all over again.

“The one you had to work together on a project with and nearly cried even though you guys just had to submit a paper?”

“Yes!”

“The one who said hi to you in the library that one time and you tried to put your elbow on the table afterwards but you missed and hit your head instead?”

You pause, scowling. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. Are you done?”

Karly is laughing. “Oh my god. What are the chances of you seeing him now?”

“There’s more,” You groan out.

“Really? Honestly that yell could have been just for seeing him again and that would have made sense—!”

You ignore her. “He’s friends with Jimin. He’s friends with Irene, too. He was invited to her wedding.”

“Wait, Jimin is friends with Irene or Jungkook is friends with Irene—?”

“He won’t pay for the flight though. It’s too expensive. I can attest to that.”

Karly holds a finger up, trying to connect the dots. “When did you look up flight prices—?”

“So he invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.”

Karly frowns.

You sigh. “Jungkook invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.”

“Oh! Oh!” Karly’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, that’s huge. Are you gonna go?”

“I don’t know!” You whine. “Jungkook mentioned it would be a four day drive to get there. I don’t know if I can survive four days in a car with him! We’ve never been that close, what if it gets awkward?”

Karly ponders this. “I really don’t think it’s in Jungkook’s nature to be awkward with someone—especially someone he’s had a history with.” She sees the look of disbelief you give her. “Well, even if that history was really limited. What makes you think it’ll be awkward? Was it awful seeing him tonight?”

“No!” You cry, straightening into a sitting position so your legs drape over the side of the couch. You force yourself to calm down. “It… it was pretty good actually.”

Karly raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Really now.”

“Yeah…” You reply, trailing off. “We sat across from each other during the dinner and we talked most of the night, surprisingly. I guess because we were sort of acquaintances we’ve always known about each other, so it wasn’t like we didn’t know how to ask questions to each other. And Jungkook… he’s easy to talk to as he’s always been and he’s so nice and positive and he has a dimple on his cheek when he smiles…” You finish slowly, noticing your racing heart that has come up as a result of this conversation and of your memory. You realize the predicament you’re in, further emphasized by Karly’s growing grin. You groan. “Shut up.”

Karly looks like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t say anything.”

You grab onto one of the throw pillows and properly hit her in the face. “You’re saying many things right now, you bitch!”

Karly takes the pillow from you and proceeds to whack you in the shoulder. “Not outloud!”

“So you admit it!” You accuse, pointing at her.

Karly yells. “Just admit you still have a crush on him!”

Your groan turns into a cry. “Don’t say it outloud! Now I have to deal with it!”

Your roommate sighs. “Bitch, I can tell you exactly how to deal with this. You’re gonna go on this road trip with Jungkook and see if you guys vibe—you honestly will not find a better way to discover your compatibility with him. If it works out, then you get more than a plus one to the wedding. If it doesn’t work out, just skip the wedding and take the first flight back home. Cut off your friendship with Jimin while you’re at it—it’s the only way to ensure you’ll never have to run into Jungkook again.”

You pout. “That seems a little dramatic.”

Karly thinks for a second, then she nudges you. “Remind me again about that quote your high school English teacher used to always parade around.”

You stare at her for a moment, because you know exactly what point she’s trying to make. Still, you decide to humor her. And yourself. “‘You’ll never know if you’ll sink, swim, or float, until you’re willing to take the plunge’.” You level Karly with another gaze. Your friend has a point. You missed any chance to hang out with Jungkook during your college years—partly because your friend groups never intersected, but mostly because of your internalized fear of fucking up. But now that you are just a little older and just a little more versed in the art of conversing and befriending—maybe Karly is right. Maybe this is your chance to see if a different set of timing could make a difference.

So you sigh.

“I guess I should text Jungkook, huh.”

Karly pats you on the shoulder. “Take the plunge, my dude.”

You do take the plunge. You take Jungkook’s business card out from the pocket of your dress and dial the number. He expresses excitement—and also relief.

These things lead up to the current moment. Eight o’clock in the morning: you lingering in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your suitcase by the door, and a roommate keeping you company.

You don’t realize how nervous you are until you get a text from Jungkook.

Jungkook (8:03am): i’m here! u can buzz me up so i can help u with your stuff :)

You (8:03am): it’s ok jungkook it’s just a suitcase. i’ll be down in a second!

You pocket your phone, and Karly can read the expression across your face before you realize what is going on. She straightens up. “He’s here?”

“Yeah.” You rinse your coffee cup and make your way towards the door. “Did you want to come down with me?”

Karly stops and gives you a look. “I thought that was already implied.”

“Well, thanks, that’s really nice—!”

“Someone has to give you an embarrassing goodbye.”

“There it is.” You sigh. You don’t say anything as you and Karly exit the apartment and make your way down the hall into the elevator. It only takes a few seconds for the elevator to lower down to the ground floor, where you and Karly exit and make your way to the front of the apartment complex.

You swear your heart beats just a little faster as soon as you see Jungkook near the front entrance of the building. He’s wearing a pair of black jackets with an oversized denim jacket and currently looking down at his phone—overall appearing so tall and pretty and otherworldly. For a brief second, you are taken by the fact that for the next four days, he’ll be yours.

Jungkook looks up as soon as he hears the door opening and he smiles. “Hey you.”

You smile, albeit a little lopsided and dreamy. “Hi.”

Jungkook walks towards you immediately. “Here, let me help you with that.” He reaches a hand out and gently takes the handle of your suitcase before you can say anything. Just as he’s taking the suitcase from you, Karly emerges from the building. “Oh, sorry about that.”

Karly waves him off. “Don’t be. I’m Y/N’s roommate—I’m just here to see her off.”

Jungkook stares at her for a moment, then he snaps his fingers. “Wait, I remember you. You went to college with us too.” He jerks his chin towards you. “You hung out with Y/N a lot, right?”

“Yeah, I’m Karly.” She holds out her hand for Jungkook to shake. “And you’re right, she and I hung out a lot. We were roommates back then too.”

Jungkook nods in understanding, before shoving his hand into his pocket. His other hand is still holding onto your suitcase. “Well, I promise to take good care of Y/N.”

Karly smacks her teeth against the side of her mouth as she points at him. “You’re a good man, Jungkook.” She pauses for a moment, seeming to contemplate a new thought. You recognize the look immediately, and your fingers twitch as if you want to strangle her. Or at least let her know you’re throwing her a look of murderous intent. But of course, Karly doesn’t see it. And even if she had, you doubt she’d care. “But no funny business, alright.”

You gape at her. “Karly!”

Jungkook coughs at that. “I-It’s just a drive—y-you don’t need to worry about that.” He does, however, turn away to hide the red that dusts his cheeks.

As soon as Jungkook’s back is facing you, you whirl around to shoot Karly with a glare. “Karly, you’re lucky I’m leaving for the next four days or I would not hesitate to figure out how to make stuffocation look like an accident!” You hiss out between teeth without taking a breath.

Karly glares right back. “You’re really dumb, aren’t you? The fact that he recognizes me because he saw you hanging out with me on campus doesn’t strike any chords? Even though, like you said, you guys weren’t really friends?”

You blink. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Karly widens her eyes. “What the fuck do you mean? Are you dumb with all the boys or just Jungkook?”

“What do you mean!” You snap back.

“So, Y/N, ready to go?”

You whirl back around to find Jungkook now standing in front of you and Karly. He must have finished packing your suitcase in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head.

So you force a smile. “Of course,” You say, turning to Karly. “I was just saying bye to my roommate.”

He nods in understanding, sparing one more glance at Karly before seeming to decide against it because he looks away. He’s still a little red at Karly’s previous comment. “We should get going then.”

“Sure.” You look over at your roommate. “See you, bitch.”

Karly waves back, grinning wildly. You just know she has several other thoughts she’d like to share with you, but has probably deemed you embarrassed enough. Lucky for you, she keeps her mouth shut.

Unlucky for you, without Karly to be a barrier of distraction, this leaves you alone with Jungkook. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, still not yet processing the weight of what you’ve just agreed to. You fiddle alone for a second before Jungkook is opening the driver’s side and shifting into his seat.

There is a silence as Jungkook is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. Or at least have the ground swallow you whole. Holy fuck, what did you just sign up for?

Your mind somehow takes five seconds to turn into complete shambles that you almost miss Jungkook’s question.

“Here, I’m giving you an important mission,” Jungkook says, rummaging through the various chords that lay over the center console before producing an aux cord. “Should you choose to accept.”

He’s got on such a serious expression you momentarily forget about your anxiety. His usage of the iconic line from Mission Impossible makes you laugh—a breathy sort of noise that escapes when your mind is too full. You still take the aux cord. “Oh my god—ever heard of bluetooth?”

He pouts. “It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re already insulting my beautiful Celia!”

You raise both your eyebrows. “Celia?”

“Yeah, that’s the name of my car.” He catches the bewildered look you give him before angling himself back to face the steering wheel, where he shifts his console into drive and makes a turn onto the main street. “If you’re already weirded out by the fact I have a name for my baby, then you’re in for a very long four days, Miss. Y/N.”

You giggle, feeling that distraction of nerves start to come off your shoulders. “Not weird at all.” You pause. “Ryan is the name of my car.”

“Ah!” He holds one arm out in a grand gesture. “You see, not so strange after all.” He steals a glance at you, watching as you’re about to connect your phone to the aux cord. “Wait!” He says, pointing a finger at you.

You look up at him, wide eyes.

He’s still holding an arm up. “How’s your music taste?”

You’re still giving him your surprised expression. “You scared me!”

He laughs, returning his hand back to the steering wheel. “Sorry, sorry. I have to ask though—I’d rather know now than later, so I can kick you out and not feel as bad about it.”

Your laughter seems to melt away the last of your nervous energy. “Nice to know you’re putting all your cards out now.” You look down at your phone. “Regarding my music taste… it’s whatever you want dude! I have some lo-fi on here, some pop, alternative, Broadway, anime openings… an ‘everything’ playlist. Honestly, the world is your oyster.”

“How about we start with your ‘everything’ playlist,” Jungkook suggests. “That way I can judge you immediately.”

“Were you always this charming, Jeon Jungkook?” You retort. “Or has graduation changed you?”

“Oh, I’ve always been this charming—you just never noticed.”

That comment, however, goes over your head as you focus down on your playlist. You look over, selecting the shuffle option as Taylor Swift’s soft music from her newest album fills the air. Another silence fills the car, but it’s much more peaceful and comfortable. You allow yourself to settle further into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car.

“So,” You start after a moment. Jungkook hums to let you know he’s paying attention. “What inspired the name Celia?”

Jungkook brightens at the question. “She was this character from a book I read when I was younger. The Night Circus? Anyways, the book is about these two illusionists who try to one up each other with their skills of magic, but they end up falling in love. Celia is the name of one of those illusionists.”

You grin. “Sounds like a very cute crush.”

Jungkook grins back.

The drive out of the city continues like this. The pair of you cover the topic of books, of music, of your favorite animes. Jungkook just has this magical power of ensuring the tension dissipates from your mind and stays gone—whether it’s through his relaxed nature or easy-going teasing or his ability to ease the conversation from one topic to the next. It feels like every conversation you and Jungkook had in college, whether vague or circling around classes, all have led up to this moment. It seems like everytime you or Jungkook run out of things to talk about pertaining to a certain topic, you would bring up memories from college and just continue from there. Everything feels natural.

It continues to feel natural even as you and Jungkook slowly start to see the edges of the city landscape fade away. The high rises fade into shorter buildings and smaller business areas that surround the bustling city scene. You watch as those buildings and business areas become rows of houses. Residential areas in the suburbs, passing by the occasional school or corner restaurants.

“Before we enter the wide unknown,” Jungkook starts up, breaking the quiet that has enveloped the car. “You want to pick up lunch? You hungry?”

You haven’t even realized how much time has gone by until you look at the clock on Jungkook’s dashboard and notice that it’s past noon. You widen your eyes at the sight. “Wow, I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.”

“Yeah, we drove through a few cities. Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?”

“You wish,” You tease, sticking your tongue out. “So, what, do we stop at a Cheesecake factory or something?”

Jungkook blinks. “I thought you were poor—why would we stop at the Cheesecake factory? And why is that the first restaurant that comes to your mind?”

You wave your hands. “It was just a suggestion!”

“Well, I’m realizing that I should probably let you know that the motel I picked for us to drive to tonight is pretty far out—Google Maps says we probably won’t get there until midnight, and that’s with us driving straight through.”

“Midnight? Fuck, Jungkook. Will we make it to the wedding a day early or something?”

“Ha, ha, no. I’ll go over the schedule I planned out tomorrow. Basically, I want to try and cover most of our ground on the first day so we can take the rest of the trip easy. But I thought I’d let you know now that sitting in a restaurant probably won’t be the most time responsible idea.”

��That’s true.” You look out the window again and see the golden arches of McDonalds appear within your line of sight. “Let’s just stop at McDonalds.”

Jungkook follows your gaze. “Alright, down. Let’s do it.”

He exits off the freeway, following down a route that takes him almost immediately towards the McDonalds parking lot. Since this restaurant is still within the lines of the city, it’s not completely deserted. There are a few cars in the parking lot, even fewer cars in the drive-through line. Because of this, ordering the food only takes a few minutes. Both of you get chicken nuggets, sodas, and large orders of french fries.

“You know, we’re really living like kings,” You comment as Jungkook drives out and makes his way back onto the freeway. “College graduates, both somehow able to secure a job, and still ordering chicken mcnuggets.”

Jungkook shrugs. “I wasn’t told this is what adulthood would be like. But I’m not complaining. My 10-year-old self is singing in so much joy right now.” He says this as he’s stuffing a handful of fries into your mouth. You laugh, and hand him a napkin.

You turn the music back on. The pair of you silently munch on your chicken nuggets, as you angle your head towards the side window once again. As Jungkook drives, the numbers of structural spaces become more scattered the longer you both continue down the freeway.

The anime opening to Haikyuu starts playing when you turn back to Jungkook and realize that he’s trying to close the box of his chicken nuggets. You move right away, taking the cardboard from him and closing it yourself. “Let me know if you need anything, Jungkook. Think of me as your co-pilot.”

He laughs gently. “Is that the rule of the passenger seat?”

You shrug, putting the empty box into the McDonalds bag near your feet. “For me at least. Everytime I do one of these drives with family, the person in the passenger seat has to open the snacks, make conversation, and always stay awake with the driver. It’s just courtesy.”

Jungkook is smiling softly now, mostly to himself, but it lights the corners of his eyes that makes you momentarily unable to look away. “You wanna tell me about your family?”

So you do. Your voice becomes softer as you continue, but Jungkook listens to every single word you say.

True to his observation, it’s not long before the pair of you are surrounded by the wide unknown. Houses in the suburbs become farmhouses and farms. Conversations fade from your family to another comfortable silence as you continue gazing out the window. Jungkook requests your lo-fi playlist at some point, filling the car with the soft and distorted hums. It allows your mind to wander as you stare out the window. The empty stretches of land around you are filled with greenery, with mountains, cutting right through the perfect blue of the sky above you.

By 4:00PM, your entire body is starting to feel the ache of having been seated for long hours on end. You feel the tightness in the muscles of your thigh, the bones in your knees.

Jungkook must be feeling the same, because as soon as a sign for a rest stop comes on, he exits the freeway and pulls into a large parking lot. There’s a restroom on the side, but the area is surrounded by trees with mountains standing in the background.

Jungkook stops the car. “We should get out for a bit to move our legs.”

You’re already tugging on the latch that’ll open the car door. “I’m already feeling it in my knees.” You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction, and Jungkook laughs from next to you.

He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same.

You turn to face Jungkook. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You gesture towards the building and earn a nod from Jungkook, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later.

Jungkook gestures to the trees surrounding the parking lot. “Want to take a walk around the area? Keep the blood flowing to our legs.”

You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Why don’t you get started. I’ll catch up.” Jungkook watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around.

He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name. You turn around. “Jungkook!”

The sight before you makes you waver slightly, as bouts of shyness overtake you. Standing before you is Jungkook, with his camera in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jungkook grins. “Say hi!”

You whine, whirling back around and covering your face. “Are you filming me right now?”

“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jungkook teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. You think I won’t film it?”

You snort, starting your walk around the parking lot. “Oh yeah, because there aren’t any parking lots and trees and bathroom stops at home.”

Jungkook is quiet for a second. “That’s not what I meant.”

You turn to stare right into the lens of his camera. “Then the mountains, right?”

He’s quiet for another second. “Sure.” He does, however, sound a little disappointed. You do not notice this.

The pair of you stay quiet as you make your round around the parking lot, taking in the mountains from different angles. The walk around is mostly just to rid of the sensation of your legs falling off, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you finish a complete round, you and Jungkook return back to the car. You watch as he carefully places his camera into his camera bag before you’re both back in your seats.

Jungkook turns to you. “Ready to get going again?” He looks at the control panel behind his steering wheel. “We’ll probably have to stop for gas in a few hours. But after that, it’s straight to the hotel.”

You settle back into the passenger seat. “I guess we already have our dinner plans then.” You’re referring to the gas station.

Jungkook grins. “I’m down for that.”

And so, the trip continues back on the freeway. With the lo-fi playing in the background, you watch as the sun tears through the blue sky, as the sun finally begins it’s dip to the other side. The singular color once spread across the pane of atmosphere now conjugates around the sun crawling behind the mountain—creating a diffusion of new colors. The corner of the mountain emits an explosion of oranges, pinks, and purples.

You lift your head from the window, eyes taking in the rainbow of pastels around the now fading sun. “Wow, Jungkook, look at that sunset.”

He snorts. “You wanna talk about things that you can’t see back in the city?”

You pout. “But it looks so pretty, see!” You keep gesturing towards the sunset.

Jungkook relents just enough to spare a glance in the direction. He hums. “Yeah, it’s pretty.” He looks back at the road. “Can’t really find a view like that in the city.”

You spend a little more time admiring the sunset than Jungkook does, for obvious reasons. You’ve seen a sunset plenty of times before in the past, but the context of this whole situation makes you unable to look away from it. You’re really out here, stuck in a car with someone you have never hung out with for longer than a few minutes. But you are enjoying yourself. There's peace in that.

So you watch until the sun dips below the mountain, momentarily leaving the sky in a navy color.

The next time Jungkook speaks, the area around you is much darker, and the sky is nearly black. “You hungry now?”

You lift your head from the seat, not even realizing you were drifting off. You’re thinking about Irene, wondering if you should have texted her directly congratulating her on the wedding rather than just simply sending in the RSVP. “Sure. We eat as the car eats, right?”

Jungkook smiles, a gesture you can barely make out from the headlines. “Of course.”

This goes on for a few more miles until the sign for a gas station comes up. A few other cars linger near the dispensers. Jungkook parks near his choice and gets out of the car. You follow behind him. He’s already sliding his credit card into the machine, and the sight makes you reach over to grab his wrist.

“I should pay, you’ve been driving all day!”

He shakes his head, waving you off. “We’ll take turns, okay?” He looks at you. “Buy me dinner tonight too, that sound fair?”

You pout, leaning back as you cross your arms. “Not really, but I guess I’ll have to accept it.”

He grins. “You are correct.”

As soon as the gas pump alerts you of the filled tank, Jungkook returns the pump back to the machine and locks his car. Together, the two of you make your way towards the convenience store, where the bell above rings to alert the workers of your presence. Nods are exchanged as you and Jungkook tear through the aisles to find anything that could satisfy your cravings. You return back with family size bags of hot cheetos and beef jerky, while Jungkook holds his selection of roasted seaweed and Doritos. You select your drinks together before returning to the cashier.

It’s nearing 9:00PM as you and Jungkook return back to his car, where you slide back into your seats and immediately tear into your bags of salt and sodium.

“How are you doing?” You ask as Jungkook finishes his first bag of roasted seaweed.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, scrolling through the final stretch needed to reach the hotel. “Yeah, about four more hours to the motel.” He looks over at you. “I’m good. The salt in this seaweed really helps. How are you doing?”

You nod immediately. “Great. Perfect.”

He smiles, shifting his console to drive and pulling out of the gas station. “I’m used to these weird hours. Remember how I told you I traveled around a bit with Mingyu and Wonwoo? There was this one day we only slept for an hour or something? It sucked, I think I almost passed out that day. But yeah, this is honestly not even that bad.” He turns to look at you. “I think the good company helps, too.”

You roll your eyes, grinning. “You flatter me, Jeon.”

Slowly, 8PM turns into 10PM. One glance at Google maps tells you that you’re still two hours from the hotel. Even though you’re not the one driving, and although you haven’t endured any physical activity that could result in this exhaustion, you still find yourself growing tired. Something about sitting under the sun, sitting in a vehicle that rocks side to side with a consistent hum—it makes your mind work slowly and therefore brings out the sleepiness quicker.

You settle deeper into your seat.

Jungkook giggles from next to you. “You tired already?”

You pout slowly, eyes closed just enough. “I’m not a morning person and you made me wake up at 8!”

“Sure, sure, of course.”

There’s a pause.

You ponder a question for a moment. It’s something that you would never dare ask Jungkook if you had been more awake and more alert. But you’re tired, and your defenses are lowered, and it means you are more prone to asking questions. “Hey, Jungkook? Did you have any girlfriends when we were in college?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. “Where’s this coming from?” He asks instead.

You shrug, making a dismissive noise as your shoulders rise up. “Curiosity.”

A pause. “I went on a few dates, but I never had a serious relationship.”

“No way.” You lift your head up from the seat. “But I remember seeing you hang out with the occasional girl in the quad, or at some restaurants around the school.”

Jungkook smiles. It’s hard to read the look in his eyes. They’re focused on the road in front of him, but they seem almost hazy and faraway. “Like I said, I went on a few dates. I did really want to get into a long term relationship in college. A lot of my friends had them, that’s where my parents met, so I was really open to the idea of at least experimenting. There were a lot of girls that I thought were nice, easy-going, or just really pretty, so I tried my hand in the whole dating thing.”

“And it didn’t work out?” You coax out gently.

“Not really,” He continues. He steals a glance at you. “We’d go on a few dates, but none of them ever felt substantial. I think girls see me and have a certain expectation—an expectation I couldn’t meet. So I never could picture myself in a long term relationship with any of them.”

You tilt your head towards him. “There must have been someone…”

“Well… there was one girl.” Jungkook starts after a moment. He’s not looking at you this time. “We had a few classes together earlier—we weren’t in the same major program. I don’t even know if I’d say we were close or anything. We just had a few classes and saw each other around on occasion. But the conversations we did have during class or outside of class just felt more real. Honestly, I could have been totally wrong about her. I could have just been blinded by all these expectations I was putting on her, which is ironic. But she was the only person I could actually see myself being in a long term relationship with. Or at least try.”

You hum, still facing towards him in your seat. “Why didn’t you try anything then? You’re a good guy, Jungkook. I’m sure she would have wanted to try with you too.”

“I guess I was just afraid of pushing it and scaring her off. I thought it was better to stay friends with her than try to pursue something. She never gave me an indication that she felt the same.”

“And how do you feel now?”

There’s a pause this time. “I don’t know honestly. We remained friends up until graduation but, uh, never saw her again. I do wonder from time to time how she’s doing.”

“You should reach out to her,” You advise softly. “Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird.” You grin at him. “You need to make your move.”

It is then that Jungkook turns to look at you. He looks for a little longer this time, eyes focused entirely on you. Underneath the small crescent of the moon above, you are still able to make out his facial features. His cheeks, his nose, his eyes—the latter is glimmering, like he knows something that you don’t.

“I’m working on that,” He mumbles softly. You turn your head back towards the road.

You wake up the next morning feeling groggy, dirty, and messy. Your head lifts up from a pillow you can only vaguely remember falling on, laying on top of a bed you only vaguely remember throwing yourself in. There’s sunlight pouring into the room, but it feels like early morning sun. There’s a crisp in the air that you can feel, that you see out of the window. Right outside is the gathering of bushes and trees, a bright blue sky.

You are in the motel.

Slowly, you push yourself into a sitting position, until you’re resting atop the white linen of your bed. Across the room, snuggled in his own twin bed, is Jungkook. His lashes are fanning across his cheekbones, his lips are parted, and his breathing is slow and soft.

It isn’t until Jungkook shifts in bed that you realize you’ve been watching him like a creep. Hastily, you tear your gaze away and decide to focus your gaze down. You notice immediately that you are not underneath the blankets. Instead, you are lying underneath Jungkook’s jacket.

You roll the jacket off your frame, discovering that you are still in last night’s clothes—which explains why you were feeling so groggy and discombobulated. You look across the floor of the hotel room. Your suitcase is near the foot of your bed, and your phone sits on your nightstand connected to your charger.

Vaguely, you recall what had happened the previous night—how Jungkook drove into the hotel room nearing midnight and the exhaustion was so overpowering that you and Jungkook blindly asked for any room with two twin beds before following through and practically collapsing into your respected beds.

You definitely did that, which explains why you were on top of the bed, why you’re still in yesterday’s clothes, and why Jungkook’s jacket was your blanket. Stealing another glance at Jungkook: underneath the blankets and in a different t-shirt—you can assume that he was able to take a shower before lying down.

With a sigh, you push off Jungkook’s jacket and lay it down on the bed next to you. Hoping not to disturb Jungkook, you slide out of bed and lower your suitcase to the ground. After fishing out a new set of clothes, you decide to take a shower.

The warmth from the shower is the best breath of fresh air you’ve gotten since hitting the road with Jungkook. It feels like your body is going through a battery recharge, and it’s one you take your time with. You step out of the shower, running the towel through your hair and drying yourself enough to slip on your outfit for the day. The towel is thrown around your neck as you step out of the shower, letting the steam follow you out of the bathroom.

Jungkook is still sleeping as you step out, which is good otherwise you’d feel bad for having disturbed his sleep time. After all the driving he did yesterday, you figure he deserves a few extra hours regardless of what the schedule calls for.

You continue running the towel through your hair as you pick up your phone. Strangely, you do not remember connecting it to a charger before knocking out, but you pick it up regardless to see the 9:00AM time across your screen.

There’s a quiet that takes over, in which you’re sitting perched comfortably on your bed and scrolling through your phone as Jungkook continues to drift a few feet away from you.

About thirty minutes seem to pass before Jungkook is moaning softly to himself, letting out a puff of air as he slowly opens his eyes. His arms extend above him, knocking into the headboard and making him curse softly to himself. His eyes open as he lowers his hands to inspect the damage before immediately looking over towards you.

He blinks, a tired smile overtaking his lips as he arches his back into a stretch. “Hey,” He greets, voice rough and scratchy and making your heart clench. Damn thing. “You’re awake. You knocked out pretty quickly as soon as we got the room.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I honestly figured that.” You pick up his jacket, as if he hadn’t been the one to lay it on you those hours ago. “Thanks for trying to help me get comfortable.” You gesture towards the nightstand. “Did you find my charger too?”

Jungkook sits up as he continues a small round of stretches and yawns. “I did,” He says. “You were barely coherent, but made enough sense to tell me where it was in your bag. Sorry for going through it, by the way.”

You shake your head, waving him off. “No worries. Thank you again, Jungkook.”

The pair of you stare at each other for a few moments, before that silence is broken by Jungkook’s phone going off. You look down as Jungkook snatches his own phone off the nightstand. He scrolls through something, before placing it back.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You ask, bringing your fingers through your hair to comb and give you a distraction.

“Oh! Right.” Jungkook swings his legs off the side of the bed. “We have a slower day today. The hotel I picked is only about five hours away? We’re driving through the mountains today, so there’s this place I want to visit that has a little restaurant and everything. It’ll be a cute pit stop.”

You nod. “Awesome, okay.” You curl your fingers around the strands of now loose strands of hair.

It takes another hour until you and Jungkook are packed up again and ready to leave. A quick stop to the lobby provides both of you with a bagel and cup of coffee each as your breakfast. All before you’re once again sliding into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car.

You roll your shoulders before clicking your seatbelt in. “Ready for another long day?”

“Of course.” He digs through his center console, producing his aux cord. “Your mission,” He says dramatically, not unlike yesterday. “Should you choose to accept.”

You laugh gently, taking the cord. “You in love with Mission Impossible or something? This is the second time in two days you’re quoting it to me.”

And this is how your day starts off—talks of Mission Impossible films that bleed into conversations about movies.

The day at 10 o’clock in the morning is bright and blue as Jungkook drives back onto the freeway and continues down the road. The first few hours consist of the surrounding flatland, of green grass and high mountains all around. Conversations between you and Jungkook are a little more scattered today, but there’s a new level of comfort about the situation. With both of you well rested, it invites a more relaxed atmosphere as you pass the occasional joke or story time between the pair of you.

As the sun continues to travel higher in the sky, Jungkook’s car starts it’s approach up the mountain. The trees start enveloping the pair of you into a newer, higher world. Not only that, but whenever you and Jungkook reach a clearing, it exposes a dip of lakes, grass, and mountains. And you, always having enjoyed the views of nature, keep an open eye for every single thing.

You see Jungkook’s choice of destination before he does, and you gasp excitedly.

Up ahead is a cloud of pink, white, and red flowers covering an entire mountain side. There is an occasional pop of cedar trees amongst the covering of pink, white, and red, but the colors are so poignant that it captures your attention immediately.

You point to it. “Is that where we’re going?”

Jungkook grins. “Surprise!” He’s selected this spot before offering the invitation to let you come along, but you’re not complaining. You’ve never been to a flower farm before, despite having heard about them and seen pictures of them for most of your childhood. You continue to watch with wide eyes and bright smiles as Jungkook drives closer and closer to the destination, finally parking in the appropriate lot after paying the fee.

You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “Jungkook, Jungkook, c’mon let’s go, let’s go!” You push on the latch and nearly tumble out onto the ground. You straighten to stand on your feet, before meeting Jungkook near the trunk of his car. Surprise, surprise, he pulls out his camera and loops the strap over his head.

He’s grinning as he closes the trunk. “You’re a little excited, aren’t you?”

“A little?” You echo, clapping your hands, seemingly unable to wipe the grin off your face. “Jungkook, this is a flower farm! It’s so exciting!”

So you dart off with Jungkook following closely behind you. The parking lot is located at the top of the flower farm, so the tour around the fields is a downwards one towards the bottom. A small pathway maps out a route for you to follow as you take in the various lines of flowers and colors. One short glimpse at the brochure tells you that these are spring flowers, and that you and Jungkook are visiting during the perfect season. You and Jungkook continue through your makeshift tour in silence, taking in the flowers as well as the view that extends out far beyond your line of sight while Jungkook snaps photographs behind you. Words don’t need to be said when everything around you says it all.

At the bottom of the field is a cafe, a small brick building with an outdoor seating area facing the now upward flower display. You and Jungkook order sandwiches and soda, and take your seats outside as you wait for your number to be called. There are a fair amount of people today at the field, most of which you can see ahead roaming through the flowers ahead.

“Have you ever been to a flower farm before?” Jungkook asks, as he glances over at you to see how bright your expression is.

You smile as you turn to him. “No, never. But thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful here.”

Jungkook smiles, looking a little smug. He looks proud of himself. “I’ve always wanted to come here, so I’m glad I was able to bring you along.” It looks like he wants to say more, but the number that rests between Jungkook’s fingers is called out, interrupting the conversation. He returns a moment later with the food. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” He says, taking the sandwich plate off the tray and placing it in front of you.

You take the napkins that are being offered to you. “What’s up?”

He settles down into his seat. “I didn’t get to return the question that you asked me last night.”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. Immediately, you feel yourself turn red as you press your lips together. You were definitely drowsy last night, and hadn’t put too much consideration in the aftermath of asking Jungkook about his college relationships. You instead try for a laugh, as you wave him off. “Well, you don’t need to ask me. It’s pretty boring.”

“Nonsense,” Jungkook brushes off, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So tell me, did you get into any relationships in college?”

You laugh, albeit a little nervously. “No, not really. I never even went on any dates before—I guess, like you, I just couldn’t see myself in any long term relationship with anyone that seemed to like me.”

“Well, how about crushes on your end? Did you like anyone?”

You gaze over at Jungkook—taking in his wide curious eyes, his soft voice, his contagious laugh. The memories of him waving at you in class, of him catching up to you afterwards to continue previous conversations, of him going out of his way to say hi to you in the library. Jungkook has always been thoughtful, considerate, and soft along the edges. How could you not have crushed on him during college?

And how could you not continue to have these lingering feelings for him afterwards?

You think about your own advice you had given to Jungkook. You should reach out to her. Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird. You need to make your move. Could you even follow your own advice?

You look down before Jungkook could start asking questions about your staring. “There was this one guy,” You start, trying for an uneasy laugh. “But I don’t think he ever noticed me. Well, that’s a lie. I guess we were kind of friends? I think it’s more along the lines of me being out of his league.”

“That’s depressing,” Jungkook notes as he finishes his sandwich. You hardly even noticed him inhaling the thing. “How could you be out of a guy’s league? You’re so smart and funny and easy to talk to—if anything, a guy would probably be out of your league.” He leans forward, bringing you close enough where you can clearly make out the mole underneath his lip. “Tell me about this punk. So I can tell you he’s not good enough for you.”

You laugh, keeping your gaze on him. You doubt he’d be so confident had he known about ‘this punk’. “He isn’t a punk,” You remark quietly. “He’s really nice, and really sweet. I was pretty quiet in college. Definitely introverted and kept to myself and had a hard time making friends. Although I would have honestly barely considered him a friend, he just made me feel like my time was meaningful and my attention was valuable to him.” Jungkook’s eyes continue to bore into yours. “If anything, I just wish he knew how much I admire him.”

Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering across your face, once again displaying that unreadable expression. Yet, despite that, something glimmers in his eyes and he seems to come to an understanding you yourself don’t know about. That glimmer keeps swimming across the orbs, even as he switches his gaze between your eyes. They flicker down to your lips for a second, and your heart stutters in your chest.

Jungkook coughs, pulling away from you as he seems to hyper-focus his attention on the soda still in front of him. He looks shy as he steals another glance at you from across the table. “He might not have made you feel that important if you were too scared to tell him how you felt.”

You look down at your sandwich and take another bite. Something about the way he’s staring holes into the side of your face tells you that he knows something that you don’t. You wonder what he’s thinking.

Jungkook wears that thoughtful expression for the rest of the visit to the flower field, as the pair of you return back to his car and slide back in your seats. He stays quiet as you resume the trip, slowly making your way back onto the freeway and towards your second motel.

This kind of quiet is different than the previous silences the pair of you have grown to share over the past twenty-four hours. Unlike the comfortable moments of unspoken words, this is more tense. Like he knows something that you don’t.

You don’t know what to say, or how to break that silence. You don’t know if perhaps you said something you shouldn’t have, or said something to make him uncomfortable. All of those thoughts are not pleasant ones.

Jungkook stays quiet for most of the drive through the mountain. The music you have selected is loud enough that seems to drown the tense atmosphere, but the questions still press themselves deeply into your mind. What is he thinking about?

And worse of all: did he know you were talking about him?

You and Jungkook only speak a handful of times during the trip. He asks you if you need to use the restroom, if you’re hungry, and if you could play him your favorite anime openings. The pair of you have a handful of laughs about your mutual love for Haikyuu and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but most of the drive to the motel is ridden out in silence.

The pair of you reach the hotel around dinnertime, definitely nowhere as exhausted as you had been the previous night, but just as eager to finally reach your destination. The tension between you and Jungkook has eased slightly, so you can only assume that perhaps he has overcome whatever was bothering him. You yourself have pushed the thought of Jungkook knowing the truth out of your mind. After all, if he had known, you assume he would have brought it up. Or at least called for an Uber to send you home. You assume you would have provided some sort of reaction for the two of you to talk about. But alas, those thoughts follow a conversation that has not happened, and will probably never happen, because you’re sure that you’ll never have to be in a situation that forces your feelings to go out of control once again—!

“Hi,” Jungkook returns to the hotel clerk behind the desk, a girl to be about your age, who is flickering her gaze between you and Jungkook. A flicker in her eyes tells you that she already has multiple thoughts and assumptions about your relationship. “Do you have a room with two beds?”

“Oh!” The girl blinks, momentarily looking taken aback. “Of course, let me check.” She turns her attention to the computer screen in front of her. Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m sorry sir, we only have rooms with one bed available—either a full, queen, or king-size mattress.”

Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat as he taps his credit card on the desk. Just watching from the side, you notice how he swallows, how he looks down, how his cheeks turn red. He turns to you after a moment. “D-Do you, uh, do you mind?”

It takes you a second to realize what Jungkook is asking. He’s asking if you’d be okay with sharing a bed with him. Him: your college crush, the guy you never really lost feelings for.

You turn red too. “U-Um…” You press your lips together and swallow. “S-Sure,” You manage, waving your hands out in front of you. “I-I don’t mind. I-If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I-I don’t mind either.” Jungkook, however, looks like he’s about to combust. He looks a little lost again. He blinks once, twice, and seems to realize that he’s supposed to hand the woman behind the desk his card. “Uh, whichever room is the cheapest.”

“That’ll be the room with the full-size bed.” She flickers her gaze between the two of you. “If that’s okay.”

“O-Of course,” He stammers back, allowing the girl to take the card. He looks at you. “Do you mind staying here? I have to go to the bathroom real quick.”

“S-Sure, go ahead.” A part of you wants to hit your head on the desk. What is happening to you? Why is the mere thought of sharing a bed with Jungkook turning you into a pile of mush? You’re a grown ass woman—!

“So the two of you on vacation or something?” The woman behind the desk asks. She’s still in the middle of scanning Jungkook’s credit card.

You try for a smile. “Kind of, we’re going to a friend’s wedding.”

“I see, that sounds fun.” She smiles. “You know, I have to be honest, I was a little surprised he asked for two beds. You guys would make a cute couple.”

At the label, you start to turn red. “O-Oh n-no, we’re not a couple at all. That’s very flattering, b-but yeah we’re not together.”

“Oh, I know,” The girl rebuffs. Her smile looks more like a grin. She places Jungkook’s credit card on the desk, along with a receipt and a pen. “I hope the full size bed will change that.” She gives you a wink.

You part your lips, unsure what to make of the situation. “What—!”

“I’m back,” Jungkook says, sliding up from behind you and making you jump slightly. “What did I miss?”

“Uh…” You wonder if your face is too red or not. It certainly feels that way. “Here!” You push him forward towards the desk. “She scanned your credit card. You just need to sign and we’ll be on our way.”

If Jungkook notices the stiffness in your posture, he doesn’t comment as he leans forward to sign the receipt. Just over Jungkook’s shoulder is the worker, looking at you with a now shit-eating grin across her lips. Several questions ping through your mind, but you don’t get to ask any of those because Jungkook is turning around with his credit card in hand.

“Uh, ready to get going?”

“Sure!” You say, voice a few several pitches higher and you return to wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Jungkook leads the way out of the lobby, and you dare one last glance back towards the woman behind the counter.

She’s waving a slip of paper in her hand.

You turn back to Jungkook. “Hey Jungkook, give me a second. I think we forgot to grab something at the desk.”

It sort of feels like a walk of shame to reach the worker behind the counter, who is still grinning at the sight of you and your internal struggles. She hands you the slip of paper, mouths something that makes you go red, before you’re turning back towards Jungkook. “Good luck,” She had whispered.

Before you’re reaching Jungkook, you open the paper. At the very top is the WiFi password.

Underneath the WiFi password, in what you can only assume is her handwriting, is one sentence. Fate said you guys only get one bed- don’t worry, I think he likes you too :-)

“What was that about?” Jungkook asks.

You shove the paper into your pocket. “The WiFi password,” You supply.

The walk to the hotel room is quiet as Jungkook leads the way through the different hallways, corridors, and numbers on plaques. That tense silence is back as he guides the two of you, stopping only when he reaches the number that matches the one on the index card. He gives you a look, and inserts the card key into the slot. The door beeps, and he pushes open the door to find, true to the word of the lady behind the counter, one full-sized bed in the middle of the room.

For the first few hours, it’s easy to ignore that full-sized elephant in the room. Jungkook takes out his laptop and you guys watch your favorite season of Haikyuu together—it’s season two—or you guys linger about on your phones. It isn’t until nighttime falls into your bones, into your minds, that you realize that you really need to address the new situation.

“I’m gonna take a shower first, if that’s okay,” You say, already sliding off the bed to gather your belongings from your suitcase. Jungkook is humming along to the Haikyuu ending song, but he stops long enough to accept you taking the first shower. He watches you as you fish pajamas out from your suitcase. “Hey, Jungkook…” You start. “Are you sure you’re cool with this?” You gesture to the bed. “I can sleep on the floor. They give you extra bedding for a reason…”

“What? No, of course not, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He moves until his knees are pressed into the mattress. “And I’m cool with this. Promise.” He hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Y-Yeah,” You manage, straightening into a standing position with your clothes in hand. “I don’t really move around when I’m sleeping. And I trust you, Jungkook.” You keep your gaze on each other until you break it first, turning around to step into the bathroom.

You step out many minutes later, hair freshly washed and feeling much more relaxed than before. Jungkook has moved to the desk in the corner of the hotel room, typing away at some emails on his laptops. He does, however, whirl around upon hearing you exit the bathroom. The sight of you in your sweats, t-shirt, and damp hair makes his eyes linger.

You merely tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can go now,” You say quietly.

Jungkook nods. “Thanks.”

Breaking that eye contact again, you turn to the bed and lift the blankets to slide under the covers. You rest your head on the pillow, and immediately start to drift away.

You are brought back after what only feels like a few minutes, when you hear a light switch turn off followed by the blanket next to you lifting up. You turn slightly towards the other side of the bed. “Jungkook?” You whisper.

A stillness. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be sneaky.”

“Mmm…” You mumble softly, turning your body 180 degrees in order to face him. You can vaguely make out the shadow of Jungkook’s outline. “Don’t worry. I’m a really light sleeper. Come on in.”

There is a shift in the blankets until you feel the additional weight of Jungkook’s figure crawling in next to you. The knowledge that Jungkook is lying right next to you turns your blood hot both with anxiety and because Jungkook brings in a new wave of heat underneath the covers. For a cool spring night, it’s comforting. But also further anxiety-inducing.

Jungkook shifts and even though the pair of you are on opposite sides of the bed, you can still feel the warmth radiating off his body. In the silence of the hotel room, you can hear Jungkook breathing.

“Is this okay?” It’s Jungkook asking. His voice is quiet, soothing, and very close to your face. You realize that you guys are facing each other.

Still, you have to give an answer. “Y-Yeah,” You reply softly. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight.”

You turn onto your back. You try to go to sleep, you really do. But your heart is pounding, and rather than the blood filling your ears, it’s the sound of Jungkook’s breathing.

“Y/N, you still awake?” Jungkook asks softly.

You snort. “It’s only been a minute.”

Jungkook smiles. “Sorry. I just… I have a question. A thought, actually.”

“What is it?”

“Well, okay, I don’t want to come off as arrogant or self-centered, but it’s just a question and just this thought that I have…”

“Jungkook.” You turn back to face him. “You can ask me the question. I don’t mind.”

“Well, alright.” Jungkook shifts. He’s a little closer now, you can make out the outline of his face. Everything looks slightly more defined now, definitely a result of your eyes adjusting to the darkness. “When you were talking about the guy you had a crush on… you know, when I asked if there was someone you were interested in while we were in college.”

“Oh, I remember.” Your heart feels fuzzy, even though you have no idea what he’s going to ask you.

“Okay, um. I guess I just wanted to know. Were you talking about me?

The world seems to stop tilting on its axis—and all the consequences of that follow along. Everything around you slows to a grind: your heart stops in your chest, and all the air drains out of your lungs. You hold your breath, feeling as if your body has just been dipped underwater. Thousands of thoughts ping through your mind. You feel like that episode of Spongebob where all the file cabinets in your brain are catching aflame. You suddenly feel like you have no thoughts, but too many thoughts at the same time.

Above all, one question rises above all the rest: how did Jungkook know?

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called. It isn’t until you feel a hand at your shoulder do you jolt. “H-Huh?”

“S-Sorry.” Jungkook sounds a lot more nervous now. “You weren’t responding.”

“I… I was thinking,” You reply lamely.

A pause. “What’s your answer?” Were you talking about me?

You swallow. Should you tell the truth? Or should you deny everything with the hopes that Jungkook will forget this conversation ever existed?

The words spill out before you can think of a proper answer. “What if I was?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “Well…” He starts up again, inching forward towards you. Every move he makes is amplified in your ear, every squeak of the mattress and every rustle of clothing echoed in the small space that is your hotel room. “I’d be kinda frustrated, to be honest. Because when I was talking about my own crush, it might have been about you.”

At Jungkook’s confession, the world seems to come crashing down on you as everything around tries to catch up to you. Immediately, you assume that perhaps you hadn’t heard Jungkook correctly, or maybe you’re completely misinterpreting what he’s trying to say to you.

In a perfect world, maybe you’d say something witty and smart. Maybe you’d play along until he snapped. Maybe you’d be fluent in courting talk and understand exactly what he’s trying to say to you.

But this isn’t a perfect world, and you are neither witty nor smart. You most certainly are not aware of flirtations. You need boys to be as straightforward as possible. Which is why you utter the most comprehensible: “What?”

You feel a warmth at your hip—Jungkook’s hand against your skin. “Ahhhh.” Jungkook starts, not at all sounding fearful but rather casual. Still the underlying case of shyness, however, because this is still Jungkook. “I forgot you sometimes need simple things spelled out for you. Remember when you emailed our Arts History professor three times because you kept forgetting what font she wanted the assignment in?”

You flush—Arts History was the class you and Jungkook were forced to pair up together for. Maybe you would have protested it more had you known Jungkook would turn out to be a little shit over it. “That was a one time thing! You’ve been bringing it up for as long as I’ve known you!”

Jungkook giggles, pulling you closer so your face is against his collarbone and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Shh, okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

Your face is burning at the feeling of your bodies so close together, your fingers pressed against his shirt and your nose against his skin. He smells like floral fabric softener. “Jungkook…?” You whisper softly, breath fanning his neck.

Jungkook tilts his head to rest gently against your temple. He stays quiet for a moment, absorbing the moment. “If you did have a crush on me in college, it would be frustrating. Because I had a crush on you too.”

This time it’s straightforward, just like how you’ve always wanted it. Why can’t you seem to reply?

“Oh.”

“I know.”

You curl your fingers around Jungkook’s shirt. “What if…” You start slowly. “What if I said I still had those feelings?”

Jungkook seems to think about his answer. “I’d say that I do too.”

You swallow, nodding in a way that allows him to feel the movement. “Okay then.”

Without a warning, Jungkook moves to curl his whole arm around your frame. This brings you even closer together. He noses your hairline. “Go to sleep,” He whispers softly. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

A part of you wants to say no—that holding off on confessions isn’t what happens in novels or tv shows or movies. But the larger part of you knows that you won’t be able to have a proper discussion like this when you are weak, tired, and vulnerable. Your heart stalls at his consideration, allowing yourself to be content just like this: asleep, cuddling with Jeon Jungkook as you’ve imagined since you first developed your crush.

It’s much better than the fantasy.

You wake up the next morning with Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, his soft breathing against your neck and his lips dusting the skin of your neck. There’s a new kind of comfort you find being held like this, and a part of you wants to melt back into his arms. You think you can pretend to be asleep just to stay here a little longer, but the urgency you have to pee and get the day started becomes too pressing.

Your previous assumptions of Jungkook being a heavy sleeper are confirmed as you manage to untangle yourself from him without so much as a whine from his end. By the time you finish with the bathroom, Jungkook is just beginning to push himself into a sitting position.

You linger near the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” You greet, almost nervously. For good reason to—the memory of last night is vague but defined well enough where you aren’t sure what the next course of action should be. It’s not like your college ever offered a course about what to do when your crush admits to liking you back.

Jungkook looks at you from across the bed. He gives you a small smile, a reassuring one. “Morning,” He says back. “How did you sleep last night?”

You twist your hands together. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?”

“Me too.” He adjusts his position so he can crawl over to you. He slides his legs over the side of the bed right next to you. He brings his hands towards you, palms up. Although he’s close enough to reach you, he doesn’t. Instead, he asks: “Can I?”

You don’t say anything, you merely rest your hand in his. He tugs you towards him, stopping only when you’re standing between his legs. He still keeps his fingers curled around yours, turning your hand up to play with your fingers.

He looks up at you, a soft smile across his lips. “Hi.”

You smile back. “Hi.”

He laces your fingers together, resting them between your bodies. “I guess now for the bigger question… how are you feeling?”

You look down at your hands, deciding you like the way his larger hands cover yours. “H-How did you know I was talking about you?” You ask instead, looking over at him.

Jungkook shifts his gaze away for a moment. “I don’t know,” He admits earnestly. “You were just looking at me back at the flower field and I had a feeling. And I really think a part of me was hoping you were talking about me.”

Unable to help yourself, you feel the side of your mouth quirk up into a small smile. “What would you have done if I wasn’t talking about you?”

He exhales in a laugh. “Honestly, I might have just driven out in the middle of the night and gone over a bridge or something.”

You laugh, trying to diffuse your smile by pressing your lips but it only works so well. “I was really surprised to hear you liked me back.”

“Of course!” He exclaims, looking momentarily shocked that you would feel this way. “I wasn’t messing around when I said you were smart, funny, and easy to talk to. That’s what made me really like you when we first met. Whenever we talked you just felt so real and approachable—like I could just be myself around you. And even now, seeing you after graduating and realizing you’re still all of those things. It just makes me like you more.”

You feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You’ve never thought of yourself in the way Jungkook is describing you—you always just assumed that you were in the background, that you’d never be enough.

Jungkook is looking at you, his eyes big and wide and full of truth. “Is that weird?” He asks.

You shake your head immediately. “No, no it’s not weird at all.” You shrug a shoulder, giving him a meek smile. “It’s really sweet, actually.”

Jungkook grins at that, heaving out a breath as a sign of his lowered defenses. “I think you’re sweet too.”

You groan at that, throwing your head back as Jungkook breaks into a series of giggles. “You’re corny.”

“You’re not complaining,” He points out. This is true.

You shrug. “I guess that means I’m expecting us to catch up on three years of terrible flirting.”

The smile slides off his face. “You’re right.” He brings your joined hands closer together until your whole body is standing closer to his. “Can I ask to kiss you?”

The four letter K word makes your heart stutter in your chest once more. Your hands are so close to his chest that you can feel his own heart beating, and the thought of Jungkook being equally nervous for this gives you enough confidence to return his question. “Why don’t you ask and find out?”

He smiles, a bunny smile that crinkles his eyes. “Touche. Can I kiss you?”

You smile back. “Yes…” You whisper, leaning down just enough for Jungkook to crane his neck up in order to meet each other halfway. It’s just a closed-mouth kiss, a soft weight against your lips.

It’s one that Jungkook pulls away from before you can really enjoy it, really ponder asking for more. “Sorry,” He says immediately, pointing to his mouth. “Morning breath.”

The pair of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. That tense atmosphere is gone, replaced inside with that previously casual and comfortable air—as you step away from Jungkook and let him get his morning started. Except this time, the air is filled with open lingering stares, shy smiles, and Jungkook taking your suitcase wordlessly as you exit your hotel room.

By the time you load into your car, it’s nearing noon and the gas tank in Jungkook’s car is almost empty. The pair of you agree in another champion’s breakfast—gas station food.

“I swear, we’re both going to have terrible breakout tomorrow during the wedding,” You point out. Despite your words, you still tear into your Nacho Cheese Doritos with the aggression of a gorilla. “I’m going to photograph horribly. Irene will be so embarrassed.”

“You photograph horribly? Inconceivable!” He says the word just as it is said in The Princess Bride, which makes you burst into another fit of laughter.

The afternoon pans out the same way it has for the past two days. Jungkook drives onto the freeway, you decide the music, and the conversations fade in and out. Neither of you talk about the events of the previous night or of what happened in the morning—but the way Jungkook reaches out to laces your fingers together is more than enough.

The town Jungkook has selected to stop for the evening is a five hour drive from the wedding venue—and it’s an actual city space this time, with restaurants and grocery stores and apartments. As soon as Jungkook tells you this information, you are bursting with excitement. It’s been two days since the pair of you actually stopped and lingered in a city environment and you miss it.

It takes another whole day of driving to reach the city destination, as the first alert you get is the increasing number of cars that have joined you on the freeway. These more busy freeways guide you into the city, where you are greeted with the first sight of buildings, sidewalks, restaurants, and parking lots in days.

Even though most of these landmarks are simple flashes that you and Jungkook pass through on the way to the hotel he has selected, you keep your eyes glued out of the window in order to take in as much of the surrounding area as you can. You continue to watch as the immediate high rises become more sporadic and spread out, until he’s finally pulling into the hotel. The sun is just setting behind the many buildings along the horizon. Lots of other cars are parked in the parking lot. You can hear other cars, buses, and trunks driving around the background—and you feel strangely comforted by this discovery.

“Are you okay with sharing another bed today?” Jungkook asks as he guides the pair of you into the lobby. “I may or may not have called to make a reservation earlier when you were in the bathroom.”

You laugh, feeling giddy at the thought of Jungkook taking the initiative to continue progressing your now slow-growing relationship. “Was that all they had left?” You ask teasingly as you make your way to the counter.

Jungkook smiles down at you. “Perhaps I didn’t ask…”

Your lips part. “Jungkook!”

“What?” He’s laughing now. “I think I’m gonna bow out of any excuse to cuddle with you now that you’ve given me a taste of what that’s like?”

You’re gasping in the midst of your laughter. “You’re terrible,” You manage.

So Jungkook checks in—true to his word, he has reserved a single full-sized bed for the room.

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” He starts as he’s following the map provided to him by the employee with directions about getting to his appropriate room. This hotel is slightly bigger than the off-the-road ones you and Jungkook pulled into, so it takes a little longer to find the room. After a few minutes of turning the map over, you two eventually find the room.

“What’s up?” You ask as you push open the door and roll your suitcase into the space, with Jungkook following closely behind you.

“Come here,” Jungkook requests gently, watching as you let go of your suitcase and make your way towards him. You move into his space easily, allowing him to hold you by the waist. “Since we’ve both admitted to missing out on three years of courting, flirting, and dating—I think we should go out to an actual restaurant to have an actual date.”

You lean back slightly and give him a slightly shocked look. “Really?”

“Yes!” He says. “Besides, someone has to put their foot down and say that eating only McDonalds and gas station hot dogs is not the right way to go.”

You laugh at that. “True, but we were having so much fun!”

“Nope!” He exclaims, shaking his head. “The foot is going down, we’re going to an actual restaurant for dinner. Get changed, take a shower, whatever you need to do to freshen up.” There’s a finality in his words as he finally steps away from you, the smile of sweetness still on his lips.

The restaurant Jungkook picks after scrolling through Yelp and other lists of recommendations is a corner Italian place that apparently serves the best Linguini and clams—a dish that you really enjoy. So you put something together much more presentable than your usual round of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts—replacing the sweatpants with black jeans and giving yourself a cream colored cropped sweater. It makes Jungkook’s eyes widen all the same. He’s clad in his usual black jeans and oversized coat that is perfect for the spring breeze.

Since the restaurant is within walking distance of the hotel, you and Jungkook agree to chill off on the driving just enough to stretch your legs and actually have a walk for once—all while celebrating the final night of the road trip.

“I was a little worried about this at first, to be honest with you,” You admit softly to Jungkook, long after the pair of you have been seated in a corner booth and have ordered your food. You’re circling the pasta noodles around your fork, and Jungkook is watching with a touch of amusement and adoration in his eyes.

“Not gonna lie, so was I,” Jungkook returns back with an equally meek smile.

You gape at him. “You invited me though!”

“I did!” Jungkook exclaims with a laugh, looking down at his own order of food. “Me inviting you was honestly a spur of the moment thing. Me catching up to you, however, was me trying to be brave.”

“You seemed pretty brave throughout most the trip,” You point out

Jungkook shakes his head, situating his arms in a cross motion. “Nah dude that was just all a very well thought out facade. A part of me was expecting it to go terribly so I could at least walk away knowing that I built you up in my mind and the fantasy of that was better than the reality.” He must see the look of uncertainty casting a shadow over your mind because he immediately cuts back in. “Just so you know, the reality is much better than anything I could have conjured up.”

You lower your chin slightly, staring over at Jungkook. You bring one shoulder up into a half-hearted shrug, maybe to showcase a certain level of carelessness. “What were you conjuring up then?”

“Oh, I don’t know if you want to go there right now,” He rebuffs, looking a little red in the cheeks. “I think we should start slow. Refer to the PG thoughts, if you will.”

You laugh, focusing your gaze momentarily on the last of your pasta. You had sorted through the clams, since they weren’t your favorite things to eat. “Jungkook, are you admitting to me that you have thoughts above PG?”

“Oh shit, that wasn’t my intention!”

You giggle. “I’m messing with you, Jungkook!”

He pouts. “Don’t do that.” He rests his hand on the table, palm up, inviting for you to take it. “I just want to spend today with you, and take it slow—I just want to hold your hand and kiss you and lay with you and just be with you in the way I couldn’t be with you in college. Is that too weird?”

You look down, pressing your lips together, trying not to squeal and definitely not trying to throw yourself off the chair. You look back over at him and squeeze his hand. “That’s not too weird at all. That’s actually really sweet. Honestly, those are things I probably would have asked for regardless. I don’t really know the rules of dating—I never really went out that often.”

Jungkook smiles sweetly back at you, he brings your hands up to kiss the back. “I’ll give you a few pointers then, let’s get going.”

After the check is paid for—it ends up being a split between the two, it’s the best compromise you can come up with considering he wants to take you out but you want to pay him back for driving this far—the pair of you emerge back into the city space. Jungkook’s hand is still wrapped around yours, using that connection point to pull you close to him.

“Now this move,” Jungkook explains, beginning to lead you both back to your hotel room. “Is when the gentleman walks the lady home, because their date went by smoothly and he wants to see her for as long as possible.”

You laugh. “I’m enjoying this so far.”

The pair of you continue down the sidewalk, using the time it’ll take to walk back to the hotel to walk off the food in your stomach. You resume your conversation, giggling and laughing all the same until you’re walking through the lobby of the hotel and slowly making your way to your hotel room.

Right before you step inside, Jungkook stops you. “Normally, the front door is where the gentleman drops the lady off, and they talk about how well the date went.”

“Oh, well, in that case, this was so nice, Jungkook,” You remark, beaming at Jungkook’s own smile. “I’m glad you convinced me to eat real food for once.”

“You’re welcome—I had fun too.” Jungkook slides closer to you. You, completely hypnotized by his next movements, watch as he cups your face with his hand to angle you upwards. “This is the part where we have a first kiss, because the stars are lined up for this. And because I really want to.”

You smile, curling one of your hands around the wrist near your face. “Seeing as we’ve already had our first kiss, how about a second one?”

Jungkook smiles back, eyes lidded towards your mouth. “I guess that’ll work.” His lesson on dating, it seems, is done, as he leans in to kiss you. You suck in a breath as he covers your lips with his. It’s deeper than the first time he kissed you—which had been more of a peck with a side of morning breath. But now you’re both awake, tasting like wine, and drunk off each other. It’s a more real kiss.

You whimper as Jungkook’s tongue runs over your bottom lip, before slipping into your mouth. It’s a sensation you can get completely lost in, until Jungkook pulls away.

Under the hallway light, you can make out his flushed cheeks, his wet lips, his dark gaze.

Immediately, Jungkook is pulling you to his side before he starts digging through the pockets of his jeans. “Alright, we’re going inside right now.”

You lean into his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to invite you inside, Jeon? What happened to giving me pointers on first dates?”

“Screw that,” He retorts, practically shoving the hotel door open. He turns around to face you. “Now, this is our hotel room. And I want to kiss you in private.”

Your laughter is drowned out as Jungkook tugs you by the wrist into the room.

Under different circumstances, waking up next to each other after a first date would hit you with a wave of anxiety and maybe even a vague sense of embarrassment at letting someone you like see you in such a vulnerable position.

Right now, however, under the morning sunlight within the covers of your shared hotel bed, you just feel happy and content. You wake up on your side, with an arm resting over Jungkook’s chest and his fingers curling around your own. There is an immediate feeling of giddiness that overtakes you, because it’s hard for you to believe that this is happening. Someone you’ve liked and continue to like actually returning your feelings? That has always been such a foreign concept to you.

You don’t know how long you continue laying in bed until Jungkook starts shifting next to you, signalling his wake. You watch as his eyes slowly peel open, laced with grogginess but still looking unfairly attractive that there are butterflies in your stomach.

Jungkook lets out a sigh, as he looks down at you. A tired smile takes over his expression. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” You reply back, voice soft and a little shy. “Happy wedding day.”

That is true. Today is Irene’s wedding—an event you and Jungkook will arrive at in nearly five hours. There’s a strange sort of knot that is beginning to twist itself in your stomach, a knowledge that something good is coming to a close but a fear in the unknown as to what this would mean regarding your relationship with Jungkook. Neither of you have laid down groundwork for your relationship—if this even is a relationship to begin with. You may be inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but you’re sure that one date and making out on a hotel bed doesn’t immediately constitute an exclusive relationship.

If Jungkook notices the tension in your form, he doesn’t say anything. He kisses your temple and grumbles something about wanting to get the day started. He mentions something about not having to worry about getting dressed for the wedding straightaway—that he has reserved a room at the hotel some of the guests of the wedding would be staying at, which is where you will be getting ready before the event. You nod, hearing pieces of his words, but a lot of it gets lost in your own thoughts.

Is it okay to ask questions about where you stand with Jungkook? Is it foolish of you to even bother wondering? You’ve seen movies and have had conversations with friends about guys who dismissed questions like that as ‘moving too fast’. You don’t want to scare Jungkook off, but you also need to know that you’re not wasting your time.

You remain in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you sigh and try to organize through your thoughts. You also try to break down how the past three days have been.

However, trying to do so proves to be a difficult challenge, as Jungkook’s phone starts buzzing excessively on his side of the nightstand—it seems like he is getting a series of text messages from someone.

You know you shouldn’t be looking or prying, but the constant binging of alerts only eats at your nerves more. You turn in the bed towards Jungkook’s side, picking up the device to search for the silence switch along the sides. The screen, however, lights up and you immediately see a name you have not seen or heard since college.

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :)

You freeze, feeling your body overload with information and questions come flooding into your mind. At first, you think you reread the message wrong. You think that maybe Jennie is texting the wrong person. But after the third or fourth time, you realize that this isn’t a dream. That Jungkook already has a plus one to the wedding, and it isn’t you.

More than that, it’s Jennie.

Jennie is also someone you went to college with, and someone that you only heard of between the grape vines and therefore is someone that is only vaguely recognizable. But you definitely know her. Jennie had been one of Irene’s friends, president of her sorority—and labeled some of the nicest people on campus. Even just from rumors and the one time you ran into her around the school, you can see it. Jennie is nice, beautiful, friendly, and outgoing. All the things you are not.

And now, she’s Jungkook’s plus one to the wedding. And Jungkook did not tell you.

Your lips part as your head starts to spin. Why didn’t Jungkook tell you he already had a plus one to Irene’s wedding? Maybe he did not owe you the explanation, and maybe you should never have assumed he’d be your plus one to the wedding.

The thought of you assuming Jungkook would be your date to the wedding fills you with a vague mortification—why did you have to go ahead and assume?

Your mind starts to spiral as you fall into the depths of overthinking. Now you were set to attend a wedding alone, with no plus one, and surrounded by people you don’t know. All while watching Jungkook sit with Jennie, eat with Jennie, and dance with Jennie.

Holy fuck, holy fuck, what were you going to do? You can’t go to this wedding alone. You can’t confront Jungkook about this—you’re not even supposed to be touching his phone or looking through his phone. He would definitely be upset. How could he not be?

At once, the tears collect in your eyes. How could this be happening? Seconds ago, you had been so content and happy, excited to attend this wedding with Jungkook. Seconds ago, you had been confident about your feelings, and Jungkook’s feelings in return. From all the kisses he showered you in, the date, the talking, the confessing—how could you not feel that way?

Had Jungkook just been pulling your leg? After all, he did have three years to talk to you, to go out with you. Why hadn’t he said something sooner? Is he here right now: talking to you and laughing with you because he hadn’t found anyone and knows that you would do anything for him?

In the background, you can vaguely make out the shower in the bathroom turn off, signalling Jungkook’s near completion with the bathroom. At once, it feels like you’re in a car that has enforced sudden breaks and has sent you flying against the dashboard—like you can’t breathe.

Hastily, you rest Jungkook’s phone back on the nightstand and roll back over to your side of the bed. You blink quickly, trying to rid of the tears that have collected in your eyes while also trying to calm the lump in the back of your throat.

Just as you’re starting to get a handle back on your feelings, the bathroom door opens and you can vaguely make out Jungkook’s humming as he exits. The fact that he sounds so carefree while you’re hurting only a handful of feet away almost makes the tears come back in. But you’ve learned how to hide your emotions well.

Jungkook’s soft laugh brings you out of your thoughts. “Still in bed?” He asks jokingly, sitting on the edge and placing a hand on your ankle. You try not to stiffen at the gesture. “You know, even though we’re getting dressed at a different hotel, we still need to get going.”

You take in a breath. “I’m comfortable here,” You exclaim, sitting up and facing Jungkook. He’s looking as wide-eyed, easy-going, and comfortable as always. You’re not sure how long you can keep up the facade of being okay. “I was just waiting for you, that’s all.”

You don’t wait for him to reply as you slide off the bed, grab your clothes from your suitcase, and lock yourself in the bathroom. You ignore the lump in your throat as you brush your teeth, as you get your day started. Finally, you look up at your own reflection in the mirror. Unlike previous times, when there had been a glimmer to your gaze—you don’t know you recognize the now disheartened individual before you.

You exit the bathroom and immediately turn to pack up your suitcase once more, ignoring Jungkook in the process. The boy is on his phone, typing something—probably a text message. Maybe he’s responding to Jennie, confirming their date for tonight, as he remains completely oblivious to your feelings.

The thought brings the tears back to your eyes.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook asks, all smiles and soft eyes as he slides off the bed to face you.

You don’t look at him as you shoulder your carry-on bag and straighten into a standing position. “Yeah.” You don’t mean for the tone to come out dry and unresponsive, but you’re too focused on trying to get the tears out of your throat.

You miss the way the smile slowly slips off Jungkook’s face as he watches you move towards the door.

Jungkook moves towards you, reaching forward to take your suitcase from you just as he’s done for the past few days.

You, however, brush him off. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” You pull open the door and make your way down the hallway without looking back to see if he’s following closer behind you. You don’t need his help, you don’t need his pity. You don’t need him to do these things, to lead you on—especially if he was going to end up with some other girl at then end of the day.

You stay quiet as you make your way to Jungkook’s car. Jungkook steals the occasional glance in your direction, seeming to finally realize that something is wrong.

He, however, doesn’t say anything until you’re back on the freeway—on the five hour drive towards the wedding venue. “Everything okay?”

You’re playing with your hair, but you stop long enough to spare him a short glance. You’re not even looking at his face, you’re looking at the chair he’s seated on. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook clears his throat. “You’ve been really quiet since I got out of the bathroom. You…” He gestures to the center console. “You’re not even playing any music.” He tries for a smile. “I’d really like to listen to your ‘everything’ playlist.”

“Sorry, I’m not really in a music-listening mood right now,” You whisper, realizing that you should probably cover up your ass a little better than you are currently. “S-Sorry, I think it was something at the restaurant yesterday. I’m not feeling super hot right now.”

“Oh no, do we need to stop by a pharmacy or something? I can run in and get some stomach machine or whatever—!”

“Jungkook, it’s fine.”

Maybe it’s the finality of your tone, or the sharper edge in your voice, but Jungkook quiets down again. One glance in his direction shows you the furrow of his eyebrows, the set of his jawline—he looks hurt and confused. And that kills you inside.

A small part of you wants you just lay all your cards on the table—to admit your side of the story and let him know about the texts and the hurt feeling still eating itself at your heart.

But another part of you, the bigger part of you, doesn’t want to give Jungkook that power. You don’t want to be the one to crack first, to be the one who gets hurt first. So you refuse to say anything, settling deeper and deeper into the seat of Jungkook’s car. Contrary to your initial thoughts, he doesn’t plug in his own phone to play his own music. He simply allows the pair of you to bathe in silence.

Without the music to distract you, without Jungkook trying to make conversation, it forces your mind to linger on the events of the early morning. Maybe Jungkook didn’t tell you because it was obvious to him that the pair of you would never have been a plus one to the wedding in general. He’s probably hurt because Jungkook can’t get his way with you.

The realization that he doesn’t even have the consideration to warn you ahead of time that an invitation for a ride doesn’t equate to an invitation to be a plus one brings the tears back to your eyes. Did you not even deserve a warning? Why would Jungkook let you kiss him, let you fall in love with him—only to turn his back on you like this?

You have to keep your eyes glued to the window of the passenger’s side of the car, just to make sure Jungkook won’t see the tears. You can just imagine that he’ll ask, and the conversation will steer the pair of you into an even more awkward space.

It’s a very agonizing five hours. Not having that time to recover from the shock of those texts is becoming increasingly more difficult for you to handle.

There are a few times that your tears overwhelm your whole system, where you have to sniff to get a handle on your body’s response to the emotions going through your body—which you’re sure Jungkook can hear. After all, there’s no music playing and there is a silence that is threatening to swallow you whole.

Jungkook, however, does not say anything in response to your very obvious sniffle. He merely tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and keeps his mouth shut. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk first, to explain what’s going on with you.

The sky is bleeding orange by the time Jungkook pulls into the new hotel, the final hotel. There is still two hours until the wedding is set to start, but every nerve in your body is screaming for you to leave and go back home. Every nerve in your body is telling you that you don’t belong here anymore.

“Okay, I let you have your peace for the whole drive over,” Jungkook starts off, voice tight, fixing the car into park. “But I’m asking you this right now. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem fine… and I’m worried about you…” He reaches across the car to land a hand on your shoulder. It’s a completely normal gesture, especially between you and Jungkook, but you cannot handle it.

You jerk away. “I’m fine,” You snap out, actually fixing your gaze on him this time. Jungkook recoils, immediately retracting his arm from you, looking like you just burned him. You tear your gaze away from him. You’re not strong enough to see him hurt because of you. “Why do you care anyways?”

Jungkook exhales in disbelief, turning towards the steering wheel of the car and running a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about? Is this about last night? Did I… say something to scare you off?”

“This isn’t about what you said, this is about what you didn’t say and what you’re not telling me!”

Jungkook looks like you just grew a second head. “What are you talking about?”

You whirl back to face him. “Oh, so the fact that you and Miss. Jennie were already set to go to this fucking wedding together and you didn’t even think to give me a heads up and tell me?”

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. “What? How did you know about that?”

You laugh, but it’s a hollow noise that only makes that lump come back to your throat. “Nevermind,” You bite out. This time, you don’t stop the tears from resurfacing as you give Jungkook a full look this time. His demeanor changes from frozen to pained at the sight. “I hope you guys are very happy together.”

You don’t say another word as you fumble with the latch of the door before pushing it open with more strength than necessary. You can vaguely hear Jungkook struggling with his own seat belt, but you don’t care. You slam the car door shut and storm away. You don’t know where you’re going—maybe around the corner to scream, or to call a taxi that’ll take you to the airport. You don’t care about the wedding. You don’t think you could face the embarrassment in facing Jungkook or Jennie or Irene right now.

“Shit, Y/N! Y/N!” Jungkook is calling for you now, his footsteps loud against the asphalt.

Everything feels like you’re going through water, which is probably why Jungkook is able to reach you as quickly as he does. He catches you by the wrist.

“Y/N—please, will you stop and just listen to me?”

“No! Jungkook, let me go.” You start trying to tug your wrist, trying to pull yourself away from him. “Let me go! I’m leaving! I don’t want to see you anymore!” You’re gasping, the tears blurring your vision and making you feel powerless.

Without a warning, Jungkook pulls you in his arms. Wrapping his arms around you, he traps you in his embrace. And you are miserable.

“Stop it!” You gasp, trying to push him away. You’re heaving—crying and trying to escape from someone as strong as Jungkook is definitely a workout for your body. “Jungkook, leave me alone. This is all my fault.”

He pauses. “What do you mean?”

You stop struggling, allowing Jungkook to hold you as you pull back enough to look away from his face. You wipe at the tears on your face. “It’s my fault anyways. I said I liked you and you said you liked me too, but maybe that wasn’t enough for you. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we’re exclusive. I should have asked up front, so I wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.”

“You don’t need to get hurt though,” Jungkook whispers kindly, his voice overcoming the blood in your ears, as well as your own yelling. You quiet down at that, except for your own lungs contracting to catch more air. This leaves you a hiccuping mess. He waits until he knows you’re not going to say anything next. “You’re right, okay? Jennie and I were supposed to be each other’s dates.”

You’re still trying to catch your breath.

Jungkook rests a hand on top of your head, curling his fingers through the strands of your hair soothingly. “Are you okay?”

You hiccup. “Why are you telling me this? I just told you that I’m hurt right now…”

“Shhh.” Jungkook pulls back and cups your face in his hands so you can look at him. “You aren’t listening to me. I said we were supposed to be each other’s dates. We’re not anymore.”

You blink, allowing the tears that were already filling your eyes to fall down your cheeks. Jungkook wipes them gently with his thumb. “What?”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers between your eyes. “Jennie and I are friends, so we’d figure it would be fun to just go together and have a person to sit with, eat with, and dance with. As friends.”

“W-What happened then?” You ask, a watery color in your voice.

Jungkook gives you a gentle smile, the kind of gesture that tells you that you should know the answer already. “You happened, silly.” He keeps his eyes on yours. “I saw you at the party with Jimin and invited you to come with me. I assumed when I asked that we’d be each other’s plus ones. I forgot to tell Jennie though when I asked you out.” He tilts his head at you. “You saw the texts on my phone, didn’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You hiccup again. “Your phone kept going off this morning and I was just trying to put it on silent. I-I didn’t mean to look through your messages…”

“Shh, baby, you’re good, you’re okay.” Jungkook interrupts gently, wrapping his arms tighter around you and swaying the pair of you back and forth. The usage of the nickname fills you with a new feeling, a warmer feeling. It helps calm you down.

Your breathing eventually evens out, bringing you back to reality and to the realization that you and Jungkook are hugging in the middle of a hotel parking lot.

Jungkook loosens his grip on you, letting you step back. He watches you for a moment. “Here,” He says, digging through his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I think you should see this.” He clicks through a few of his apps, until he seems to find what he’s looking for because he hands the phone to you. You look over at him, confusion flooding through your features. Jungkook gives you a reassuring nod. “It’s okay.”

Still hesitant, you take the phone and look at the messages across the screen. It’s the texts from this morning.

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :)

Jungkook (10:20AM): hey Jennie !! oh shit i totally forgot to let u know but i actually found a plus one :( i’m soooo sorry i should have told you earlier omg i feel terrible

Jennie (10:20AM): no worries jungkook !! who is it omg do I know them?

Jungkook (10:20AM): it’s actually Y/N? We all went to college together…

Jennie (10:20AM): OH!!!! wait isn’t she the one Irene was working with a lot for senior projects?

Jennie (10:20AM): OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

Jennie (10:21AM): OKAY JUNGKOOK I SEE U

Jennie (10:21AM): she’s THE Y/N right???? the one u were in love with for our entire college career??

Jungkook (10:22AM): …… maybe?

Jennie (10:22AM): WOWOWOWOW good for u Jungkook !!! glad to see u finally having the balls to ask her out !!

Jungkook (10:22AM): OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH

Jungkook (10:23AM): I actually felt BAD for leaving you by yourself BUT NOT ANYMORE

Jennie (10:23AM): LMAO Jungkook I’m friends with Irene’s entire bridesmaid row i’ll be fine

Jennie (10:23AM): just go get ur dick wet!!!!!!

Jungkook (10:23AM): istg i will leave you on read

Jungkook (10:23AM): also that is NOT the point!!!!!! Just wanna love my new girl :(

Jennie (10:24AM): You’re gross

Jennie (10:24AM): but sounds good see you tonight!

You look up from Jungkook’s phone to see him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction, pleading for you to forgive him.

The only thought that can be translated into a coherent sentence comes out: “You were in love with me during college?”

Jungkook exhales in a laugh, his arms finding your waist once again. “I think ‘in love with’ was a bit of a stretch back then. I think you could agree that we didn’t know each other well enough before for me to say that.”

You’re still looking at him. “Back then…?” You echo.

He nods. “Back then.” He brings you closer, one hand moving up to gently brush at the skin of your cheek. “But it’s different now. Now, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m in love with you.”

Your lips part. “You’re in love with me?” The tears spring back into your eyes, but for a different reason entirely. The emotional rollercoaster you have just been on is unbelievable.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of your tears. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Is that too fast? I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning or something. Or more time at least. Oh no, please don’t cry…”

You brush him off with a watery laugh, waving his concern away. “It’s okay Jungkook. This is fine, really.” You give him a smile. “I love you too. I really thought you were pulling my leg or something.”

Jungkook gives you his own small smile. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up sooner about us being each other’s plus ones. Just because I assume something doesn’t mean it’s an established thing.” He brings you closer, his smile turning into a grin. “You love me too, huh?”

You giggle. You’re too strung out to come up with something witty or clever. “Yeah…”

Jungkook is still smiling, his gaze switching between your lips and your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

You nod. “About time.”

He kisses you again, softly and sweetly, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips but it’s gentle caresses that make your heart feel like it’s crawling up your throat.

“OH MY GOD GET A ROOM!” A voice calls from the other side of the parking lot, forcing you and Jungkook to pull away. The pair of you look at each other and you start to laugh.

Jungkook kisses your forehead, sweeping down to your ear. “How about we check into our room and get ready?”

You giggle, nodding over at him. “That sounds good.”

So Jungkook leads the way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you gather your suitcases from the car and enter the lobby. You check in easily, as Jungkook is provided a map with directions on how to reach the room.

The pair of you don’t pull away once until Jungkook is sliding the key card into the door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom you’ll be sharing for the night.

Both you and Jungkook park your suitcases near the foot of the bed, as per usual.

“Do you want to use the bathroom?” Jungkook offers.

You nod, smiling softly. “Okay.”

You gather the dress you’ve brought in your arms, about to enter the bathroom, before Jungkook’s voice stops you. “Hey,” He calls, approaching you and wrapping you in his arms again. He’s much more handsey this time, like he needs to make sure you’re not going to run away again, like you’re going to be okay. “You feel better now?” His thumb brushes your lips. “Your eyes are still a little red.”

You nod. “The makeup will probably help that,” You reassure in a soft voice.

Jungkook mirrors your movements. “Still, how about I get some ice for you so you can put something cold underneath your eyes… to stop the puffing.”

He looks genuinely concerned and worried for your wellbeing that you can’t help but smile. Since he is insisting, you decide to just let him be. “Okay, Jungkook.”

He smiles. “Okay! You start getting ready and I’ll get the ice, okay?” A quick kiss on your cheek before he’s bounding out of the door with the provided ice buckets.

Your eyes linger on the door for a few minutes before you’re turning back to your suitcase. The dress you have picked is a pink flowing floor-length number—something Karly helped you pick out before leaving. It’s soft enough that it doesn’t leave crease marks along the fabric, which had made this outfit perfect for the trip. You take the dress and your bag of makeup before entering the bathroom. You’re just slipping on the dress when you hear the hotel room door open and close.

“Okay, I got the ice!” Jungkook announces through the bathroom door. “Did you want to work on your eyes right now?”

“Sure,” You call back. “Do you mind zipping me up first?”

“Of course,” Jungkook returns, sounding distracting as you open the door to the bathroom. You peek your head through, noticing Jungkook opening his suitcase on the floor and sorting through it—probably for his own suit.

He must hear the door open, because he looks up towards you. Immediately, his eyes widen as he straightens up into a standing position. “O-Oh wow…” He’s looking you over up and down, up and down, as if he needs to commit this to memory. “Y-You look great. Beautiful.”

“Really?” You stammer back. “Thank you.”

Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as he approaches you. “You needed me to zip you up?”

“O-Oh right, yeah.” Hastily, you turn around, brushing the hair from your back to expose your undone zipper, and your bare back.

You think that he purposely grazes the tips of his fingers against your skin in his process of bringing the zipper up to the top of the fabric. You’re about to turn, thank him, but his hands back at your waist do the gesture for you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You look really pretty.”

You pout. “You’re being too nice to me.”

Jungkook whines, hugging you close to him. “You’re too cute.” He noses at your temple. “I just wanted to see you smile.” He pulls away after a moment. “Let’s take care of your face, yeah?” He turns around and returns with a small baggy full of ice. “Here, sit down for a second.” He leaves for a second, returning back with a towel. “Maybe… five minutes each eye. I don’t know. I’ll get ready while we’re waiting.”

So he takes his suit out from his case and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with a towel of ice pressed against your eye. The cooling sensation definitely helps with the puffiness.

Jungkook appears from the bathroom a few minutes later—dressed in a black suit with a white button-down and a long skinny black tie. His hair has been fiddled with a little, but he still has that messy, boyish, lovable appearance that makes your heart race.

“Did you switch the towel?”

You nod.

“How do you feel?”

Slowly, you bring the towel down and rest it on your lap. You look at Jungkook. “How do I look?”

He leans forward towards you, holding your chin gently between his fingers. “You look better. Did you need to finish getting ready?”

“Yeah. I just need to touch up my makeup.”

“Okay, go ahead then.”

Jungkook takes the towel, and watches as you make your way back to the bathroom. You’re only gone for a few minutes before you’re emerging once more—eyeshadow a little darker, lashes a little closer, and lips slightly pinker, but overall still looking like the same version of the girl he fell in love with.

The pair of you drive to the wedding venue, a cute brick building with browns, greens, and whites surrounding. Guests already swarm the outside area, some of whom you recognize from college. The sight makes you nervous.

Jungkook sees this, and he reaches over to grab onto your hand. “You can just stick with me, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll protect you.”

You roll your eyes, but you are thankful to have Jungkook as your source of comfort and be that person you could run back to.

He parks and meets you at the front of his car, where you lace fingers and make your way towards the venue. You go through a small round of hellos and ‘nice to finally meet you’ conversations—most notably from Mingyu and Jennie, both of whom light up at the sight of your presence. Contrary to your previous worries, you find that you don’t really need to be so nervous. Mingyu and Jennie are friends of Jungkook’s for a reason—they radiate a relaxing nature that you can tell is what has drawn the three of them to each other.

They ask about you, your college experience, your current experience, passing easy conversation in the ceremony space right before the start of the wedding. It’s fun to see Jungkook joking around with the friends he grew up with, and even more fun to see how easy you are allowed into that world.

The actual wedding ceremony is a blur. You vaguely recognize the extremely attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Seokjin at the head of the aisle. You definitely recognize the equally as attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Irene, downed in white lace and looking much more beautiful than you ever remember her. Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, there’s an applause, and pictures are taken before the guests are ushered into the main entry room—decked out with a bar and a few scattered seating areas. Jungkook whispers to you that guests are put here temporarily, as the ceremony space is being converted into a dining area.

True to Jungkook’s promise, he lingers by your side most of the night. Although you reassure him that you are fine, you are much more emotionally stable compared to a few hours ago, and that perhaps you are okay catching up with Nayeon—another girl from college, actually someone from the first party you ever attended who defended you when you were receiving unwanted attention—but Jungkook simply tells you that he likes being around you. He likes being able to put his arm around you, likes to rest his hand at your waist, likes people knowing that he has you.

It’s a few more minutes of conversation, of laughter, of old stories being exchanged between people you haven’t seen for years, when the guests are called back into the newly converted dining area. Instead of rows of chairs lined up, there are round tables filling the space. The long panel of doors once closed along the wall of the room have been opened—exposing a gazebo with a D.J. and a dance floor, all encircled by a string of big bright fairy lights.

You and Jungkook are situated at the same table as most of the guests you recognize from college. You assume this is purposefully done to give you all a common ground, and it works because conversations spring easily between you all. Even when you’re not talking about your experiences from university, you’re able to transition from topic to topic. You and Jungkook occasionally talk amongst yourselves as you’re eating, but you sit together and laugh together when Irene and Seokjin emerge and listen in during the wedding toasts.

Finally, Irene and Seokjin make their rounds through the room, stopping at the tables to cheer and laugh and exchange a few words of congratulations and conversation. Following this process, everyone at your table stands on their feet as Irene and Seokjin make their way towards you. There are bright smiles, Irene’s cheerful gasp as she takes in all the guests that have come to join her. She circles your table, hugging every guest, continuing this when she reaches you.

Irene grins at the sight of you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!”

“I know!” You return, pulling away from Irene. “Congratulations. This wedding is beautiful.”

She beams, absolutely radiating in her white dress and glittering makeup. “Thank you so much for coming! But oh my god, are the rumors true, did you really show up—!” She looks over your shoulder, and grins again. “Jungkook!” She hugs Jungkook. “I should be saying congratulations to the two of you. I was surprised to get the text from Jungkook saying that you guys were coming as each other’s dates. Gave me a whole pain because I had to switch some seats around at the last minute. But anything for my favorite people.” She turns to you and holds onto your arms. “Jungkook has had a crush on you for years, so you’re really doing him a huge favor.”

“Okay, enough,” Jungkook interrupts, scowling. But there is still that playful look in his eyes. “Did all your friends know about this? Jennie knew something was up too when I texted her.”

Irene presses her lips together. “Mingyu might have mentioned something.” She presses her hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “Stay safe, you guys. Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” She moves onto her next guest.

Jungkook is groaning. “Remind me to never tell Mingyu anything ever again.” He glares at the boy from across the table. “Gonna fling some peanuts at that son of a bitch.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. “Oh, let him be. It’s Irene’s wedding. You can get him tomorrow.”

Jungkook pouts, but he does wrap his own arm around your shoulder. “Ah, love my girl—promoting evil behavior after festive events.” He kisses your cheek as your table takes their seats once more.

The good natured atmosphere continues as you and Jungkook down your food, remaining fully engaged in the conversations happening around the table. After another hour of this, the DJ announces the start of the married couple’s first dance. Irene and Seokjin take to the dance floor and spin around, her white dress flowing around the room like light. Underneath the glow of the fairy lights, it looks like the couple is in an entirely new world. And you are so taken by it.

Jungkook does not turn to you until the DJ plays a slow song—a first slow song after a series of upbeat dance and pop genres. He jerks his head towards the dance floor. “You want to dance?”

You take his hand when he offers. “Of course.” He leads you across the room, towards the gazebo, where several other couples have moved to cling to one another. Jungkook pulls you in: one hand on your waist and the other with your own hand. “This is really nice,” You start off.

Jungkook laughs. “The wedding, or the dance?”

You smile over at him. “Both. Being able to slow dance with you, however, is marginally better.”

Jungkook is quiet for a little after that. He seems content just staring at your eyes, taking in the magic of this moment. “Thank you for coming with me,” He starts. “The whole road trip thing. Definitely would not have been as fun if I did all that by myself.”

“Well, thank you for inviting me,” You return. “Even though we had that big misunderstanding. I had a lot of fun.”

“Hey.” Jungkook angles his head a little so he can look at you in the eyes. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? You’re too important to me that I wouldn’t even think to pull some stupid shit like that again. You know that I love you too much to do that to you, right?”

“I do know now,” You say, gazing over at him. “And I love you too.”

You’re not usually an expressive person. But it’s worth saying those words just to see the grin that overtakes Jungkook’s face. It’s worth even more when he leans forward, kissing you openly in front of all his friends, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, running his tongue over the wound, and into your mouth. It’s worth it to have his fingers dusting sweetly over your skin, coaxing your mouth to open to allow exploration.

It feels like worlds pass before Jungkook pulls away, giving you that breathless smile dimple and all, before he’s leaning forward to bury his face into your neck.

“I think the drive home will be fun,” Jungkook mutters softly.

“Hm?” You hum, eyes closed as he presses tiny kisses along your neck.

“Most definitely,” Jungkook says, lifting himself just enough so that his lips hover over your ear lobe. “Because I plan on fucking you in every hotel bed for the rest of the trip.”

You feel your heart race, your cheeks heat. Yes, this was definitely worth it.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts angst #traci writes

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dream-a-little-bigger-darling000 · 3 years

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You'll Fit So Nicely You'll Keep Me Intact

Author's Note: Hello Hello! Not my GIF, please don't think it is, but it is my fic! I asked a few days ago if I should do Bane or touch-starved Tommy, and it was pretty clear I should do my sweet summer child Tommy boy. I just really think this big tough fighter needs to take a break and be held every once in awhile. And you can't tell me this man wouldn't have the sweetest moans. Fight me on it you can't. Please Please PLEASE reblog, like, or comment on this if you liked it. I live my day to day life craving validation.

If you absolutely hated it, also let me know! I admit I'm not the best at writing, and I'm willing to learn so I can feed my Tommy Conlon addiction. Ok, that's all, be fed!

2400+ words?! C'mon, that's gotta be enough to make you proud.

The whole fiasco was genuinely an accident.

The two of you, in his small cramped apartment, helping each other make dinner, because you couldn't remember whose turn it was, walking around each other like you had been doing it for years, because you had been.

You had been by Tommy for as long as you can remember, through those years where puberty slammed in the door and decked you directly in the throat (and other places), through the time where his family had slowly fallen apart, and into the years where he had joined the US Marine Corps.

Those years had been hell. At least when he moved away you were still able to text him annoying day-to-day updates and talk in the quiet nights when no one was awake to hear you admit how much you missed each other. But when he joined the Marines, you heard even less from your Tommy, and the ache you felt for him only grew.

When he came back, he had came back for good, immediately seeking you out with the promise of your old relationship back. And things went back to normal, slotted into place perfectly.

Except the insane amount of pining that you went through every waking hour you saw his stupidly attractive face.

But you weren't going to think about that. There was spaghetti to be made.

"Those are done." Tommy nodded his head to the noodles as he made the salad. You sneered to yourself, still pissed that he got the easy part.

"No, they're not, look, that one's still hard-"

"That's what she said."

"It's still undercooked you jerk. Can you please let me cook in peace? You're over there, doing the bare minimum, you ass."

"Hey, if this isn't tossed right, the whole thing is ruined. And those noodles are definitely done. We can get them in the sauce before the garlic bread is done so it'll cool down a bit. Look." All the sudden Tommy was crowded up behind you. Your breath did something funny. Probably the steam from the boiling water. Because, you know, it's so hard to breathe around.

Tommy took the spoon you were using to stir and managed to scoop up a single noodle. He then carefully picked it up and threw it on the cabinet. It stuck, but looked like it would fall via a strong sneeze.

"See? Done." You looked behind you to stare up at the infuriating man. He smiled and tilted his head. You had the sudden urge to hit him. With your mouth. Damn it.

He turned around, not giving you a chance to argue with him. That was his first mistake. As a MMA fighter, the idiot should know never to turn your back on the enemy.

You scooped up another noodle with your spoon. You waited until he was truly busy with cutting the tomatoes up for the salad.

You aimed for his head. It wrapped around the back of his neck with a soft splat. He startled for a moment, and then set the knife down and stared forward, still not turning around to look at you.

"You know what, now it's done. Now it's stickin'." You were struggling to hold it together, desperately trying not to laugh as you turned off the stovetop and set the pan aside.

You felt strong arms envelop you from behind, and you let out a loud laugh as you felt your feet leave the floor. Tommy, spinning you around before setting you on the counter. You've really put yourself it a bad position.

Well, if you're being honest, probably the best damn position you've ever been in.

Except that the bastard started tickling you. More laughter spilled out of you, uncontrollable at this point.

"Tommy!" You were out of breath from the constant attack. What happened to never turn your back on the enemy? "Tommy, what are we in-" More laughter as his joined yours. You two were so close you could feel his shoulder dip every time he rumbled a laugh. "what are we in 6th grade now- Tommy!"

You could feel his laughter huff by your ear, and you knew you had to resort to dirty tactics. If he wanted to play by middle school standards, then you had no choice but to stoop down to his level.

Tommy was very distracted trying to murder you by laughter alone, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. He never even realized your hands were so close to his head. He was in the middle of another fit of giggles when he felt your nimble hands glide through his hair. He had half a second to understand what you were planning, and he was just about to pull away, to get as far from you as possible before-

You gave a solid pull to his hair. You felt satisfaction shoot through your body as his laugh choked off, his body going rigid underneath your fingers. His breath stuttered and his hands instantly fell from your sides to grasp the edge of the counter.

You didn't quite understand what was going on at first, the only thing on your mind being that you'd won the battle. You couldn't help the smug smile from sliding across your expression, or the snarky little giggle that bubbled it's way out.

"What's wrong, Tommy? Did someone school you at your own game, hmm? Maybe next time you'll think before you-"

"Could you please let go?" Tommy sound winded, like he'd just fought a few rounds with someone much bigger than him. It made you pause, and then frown.

Your fingers loosened from his hair, but you didn't lower your arm just yet. You couldn't fathom why Tommy was acting this way, when he instigated the rough-housing. And you knew for damn sure you hadn't hurt him. You had seen the idiot stub his toe on his coffee table before, and the only reaction out of the fighter was a pause, a look up to the ceiling, and one long, drawn out sigh.

So even though he sounded like he was trying to fight for his life, you know it absolutely wasn't because you had hurt him in anyway. Tommy could break you five times over.

You looked down at his hands. Not only was he grasping the edge of the counter top, but his knuckles were white, like he was anchoring himself. You glanced to his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed tightly together, and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration. Was he- was that a blush? His body was still pulled tight.

Experimentally, you lightly scraped your nails along his scalp.

If Tommy were to ever hear you call the sound that came from him a whimper, he'd probably swiftly and effectively dispose of your body. But it was a fucking whimper.

His eyes snapped open wide and met yours. You saw his utter mortification. You would say you felt guilty, but having your long time crush whimper while slotted between your thighs as you sat a top a kitchen counter really did things for you.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for letting your mind fall into the gutter as your friend so obviously had a small break down.

Before you could get a word out, to try talk him down from whatever thoughts were swirling in that pretty head of his, Tommy was out of kitchen. Ah, so he's chosen drama today? Coming from a man who would rather fight his own brother than talk, you can't really find it in yourself to be surprised.

"Tom." You dropped down from the counter, heading toward the living room, which was the only way he could've gone. As you rounded the corner, you saw him pacing the length of the room, his hands interlaced behind his head, elbows out, eyes wild.

"Tommy." You smoothed out your voice, pictured yourself trying to calm down a particularly flighty horse. You know, if the horse were the love of your life and you were desperately trying to make things less weird between you two before the already delicate friendship collapsed.

At your gentle prod he stopped. He let his hands fall down to his sides. He huffed once. Crossed his arms, made a face, and then dropped them. His fists curled up into balls and he closed his eyes. He opened one and looked toward you.

"You didn't hear that."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your own arms to your chest.

He pointed to the kitchen. "That didn't happen."

Because you love your best friend very much, you didn't roll your eyes.

"Tommy. Calm down. Take a deep breath." He did not take a deep breath. You did for him. Then another one for you. You moved toward the couch, and the way he suddenly looked like he was about to sprint out the door didn't escape you. You held your hands up placatingly. Easy, boy.

You sat down, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you. He looked at you wearily. You gave him a pointed look, one that said this is something to be discussed, and there's no way you're getting out of it, and gently patted the space for him.

He looked like he'd rather do anything else. He eventually made his way to the spot and plunked down, but as close to the arm of the couch as possible.

You gave him a sweet smile. He looked away, but not before you caught the blush. You decided to let him speak first.

It was quiet for awhile. Your thoughts went to the noodles still sitting on the counter, probably cooling in the water making a film. He cleared his throat.

"I don't. Not a ton of people touch me." He stared dutifully in front of him. You stayed silent, afraid of scaring him into silence again. He shifted uncomfortably, letting out a growl of frustration. "I mean people touch me. I just meant. It's not. It's," He looked like each word was slowly strangling him, "Never that intimate. I guess. And never anyone like you."

You're eyebrows shot up. His head jerked toward you.

"Not like that, I mean like someone so pretty." You choked a little. He visibly flinched. "Ok. I think that's enough for tonight. I think I've made plenty an ass of myself for one God forsaken night." He made to move, but your hand covered his before you really thought about it. He immediately stopped, staring at your hand on top of his.

"Tommy, it's ok." He gave you a dubious look. "No, really. Lots of people don't know how to deal with touch when it's not normal for them-"

"I'm fine, I touch people all the time, it doesn't matter it's ridiculous-"

"Tommy." He stopped. You lifted both hands to slowly cradle his face. His eyes were panicky. He looked like he was fighting every instinct inside him. "Listen to me, love." His eyes widened. "You don't have to explain anything. I need you to know it's ok to freak out a little. It's ok for this to be new." You bit your lip. "It's ok if it feels good."

A small sound came from the fighter. His eyes slipped closed. It suddenly hit you. You sucked in a sharp breath, and you started to gently stroking his face to his neck.

"Oh Tommy. You spend all that time fighting in the ring, so much time dominating. You barely let anyone touch you before you knock them away." His dad was probably never there to offer him any type of physical love, and his mom was too distanced from anyone to truly give what Tommy craved. By that time, he had pushed his brother away, and you had never really noticed him to be very active in the dating area.

You could feel his control slipping, could feel him slowly letting you hold his head up while he explored the sensation of someone just feeling him. When he spoke, his speech was slightly slurred.

"Was always jus' scared."

"I know Tommy."

"Didn' want you t' leave."

"And why would I do something stupid like that."

There was a second of silence, but Tommy was too far in to go back now.

"Cuz' I only wanted you to touch. Only ever you." Your heart stopped. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours. His gaze snapped to your lips, back up to your eyes. All it took was for your eyes to snap to his lush mouth, and he was surging to meet you.

You felt like you were melting, melding into him. His lips were sliding against yours, his hands suddenly huge, thumbs cupping your face while his hands rested on the sides of your neck. He kissed like you see him fight. The urgency and the power and the emotion. You ached all over.

You could hardly remember your name when you finally separated, heaving lungfuls of air. Maybe all that oxygen deprivation had really done something to your brain, because you might be having a stroke. It almost smelled like something was burning. Tommy's face did something funny and he sniffed the air.

Oh. OH. The garlic bread.

Both of you made a mad dash for the kitchen, Tommy arriving first and throwing the oven door open, grabbing whatever cloth he could find to take out the charred bread as you used a dishrag to flap away any smoke that spilled out.

Once he made sure his apartment wasn't going to burn down or that the ambulance wan't going to be making a surprise visit, he slumped against the counter, breathing heavily. You put your hands on your hips.

A few second went by, both of you trying to catch your breath. Tommy looked up at you. You met his eye.

You both melted into peeling laughter, trying to stay upright. It seemed like every time you two would get your shit together, you'd fall right back into cackles.

He finally reigned in the worst of the laughter, and slowly made his way to where you were standing. Your own laughs died down.

"Are we good?" you ask him gently. He nods his head, with his sweet smile.

"We're good" he replies gently. He gets this determined look on his face, and steps real close to you. He doesn't do anything else for awhile, instead looking to you, asking with questioning eyes.

You give him an encouraging smile. He smiles right back at you, and for the second time tonight, strong arms envelop you.

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dontcare77ghj · 3 years

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Now In Color

Wanda x reader x Vision

After Wanda and Y/N's newly discovered pregnancies, the three had decided to call Westview's doctor for a home visit.

Doctor Neilson was a balding man, who's opinions were on the misogynistic side.

"Yep! Definitely pregnant. Both of you." The doctor determined after having pressed a stethoscope to both women's stomachs.

"Believe it or not, we actually figured that out already," Y/N said, shaking her head once the man's back was to her.

"This has just kinda taken us by surprise," Wanda explained, one hand clutching Visions and the other on Y/N's thigh.

"It's just kinda sudden. Quite suddenly, wasn't it. I mean, practically overnight. I mean, how did this even happen?" Vision stammered, causing the doctor to stare at him blankly.

"You see when a man, a woman, and a woman love each other very much."

"Well, we're just tickled pink or blue!" Wanda joked, interrupting the doctor, as the three rose from the couch.

"You're at about four months now. Is that accurate for the two of you?" He asked, receiving nods from both women. "I thought as much. We like to let the little ladies keep tabs on their growing babes with fruit." Neilson told Vision. "Makes it simple for them. At four months, the fetus is about as big as a pear. At five months, papaya. Six grapefruit, seven pineapple, and eight honeydew."

"So we both have pears?" Y/N questioned.

"You both have pears." The doctor confirmed with a nod. "The three of you must have been planning for months to sync the pregnancies up like this." He added with a chuckle.

"Hypothetically speaking, what size fruit would it be at say twelve hours?" Vision asked, causing the doctor to blanch.

"Pardon? Twelve hours?"

"Well, I think this line of questioning is fruitless." Wanda cut in with a forced polite laugh as she moved to stand beside the doctor.

"Hypothetically speaking, should we be concerned?" Vision asked, rounding the back of the couch, holding Y/N's hand in his.

"Hypothetically speaking, every new father-to-be gets nervous." The doctor patronized, slapping a hand on Vision's neck.

"Well, I have nerves of steel, so there goes your theory, Mr. Doctor." Vision said, pulling away from the man.

"Vis, why don't you see the doctor out?" Y/N suggested, wrapping her arm around her husband's waist.

"That sounds like a great idea." Wanda agreed, nodding at the two with a smile.

"Of course." Vision nodded. "Thank you so much for dropping by Doctor Neilson." He said, leading the doctor out of the house as Wanda and Y/N smiled at one another.

"Well, I'm just glad you caught me in time." The doctor commented once outside. "I'm taking the wife on vacation this afternoon."

"Oh, well, I hope you have a nice holiday," Vision told the man. "Hey, Herb!" Vision called to their neighbor.

"Listen, can you keep the news of the girls, you know, just between us?" Vision asked the doctor. "It's that everything's happening so quickly, and we'd like to keep the news just in the family now."

"Of course. Mum's the word." The doctor assured. "I'm off! Bermuda, baby!"

"Yes." Vision waved Neilson off before he was distracted by the loud sound of machinery to his right. "Hey Herb, I think you might've taken the hedge-trimming a little too far there, old chum!" Vision joked, watching as his friend cut into his brick wall.

"So, I have." Herb laughed, continuing his brickwork. "Thanks, buddy."

"Yeah, don't mention it." Vision said slowly, gnawing on his lip before turning away. "Huh. Darlings, the strangest thing just happened outside with, whoa Nelly!" Vision exclaimed when his wives turned around. "Are you both bigger?"

Wanda turned to look at her stomach but knocked the fruit bowl as she tried.

Vision sped over and caught the fruit before it hit the ground.

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, looking down.

"I can't actually tell from this angle," Wanda said, gazing down.

"I can't even see my feet." Y/N sighed, looking up and at Wanda's own stomach. "Oh, God." She said, causing Wanda to look up.

"Yeah, we could be a little bigger." Wanda nodded, seeing the size of Y/N's stomach.

"I can't wait to be a proud papaya." Vision joked, proudly holding up the papaya.

"Not one of your best, Vis," Wanda told him with a grin.

"Ah, so you're admitting I'm funny?" Vision asked as Y/N took the fruit out of his hand and moved towards the kitchen.

"I don't think she ever said that." Y/N teased as Wanda followed her and stole the papaya out of her hands. "I'm not even sure those words have ever been uttered before."

"I've heard you laugh at my jokes before. At least once."

"That's because we didn't want to make you feel bad," Wanda said, cutting the papaya into small chunks.

"The first lesson we'll ever teach you, little ones, is to pretend that your daddy is funny," Y/N said to her bump, one hand on Wanda's.

"That seems rather dramatic, don't you think, darling?"

"No." Both women responded teasingly.

"You know what we should start soon?" Wanda questioned. "A nursery."

"I've noticed there are a large number of stores in the town square that cater towards babies and first-time parents." Vision informed the two.

"That's great! Perhaps we could go after lunch." Wanda suggested, snacking on the fruit before her.

"We'll need to make a list," Y/N suggested as she made herself a sandwich. "Of furniture, clothing, books, everything we'll need."

"I could write the list while you and Wanda have lunch." Vision proposed.

"That sounds like a plan." Wanda smiled at him sweetly.

"I'm gonna make myself a coffee first. Do you want a tea, Wand?" Y/N asked, grabbing a coffee cup.

"You might want to make a tea for yourself," Wanda said. "We can't have coffee while we're pregnant."

"None at all?" Y/N asked with wide eyes, causing both partners to nod. "You are so lucky I love you, little one," Y/N said to her bump.

Hours later, the three of you had returned from your shopping trip and were beginning to set up the nursery.

Vision was sat on the rocking chair, reading one of the many books on pregnancy he'd bought. Y/N was organizing the boxes of baby clothes, all of which everyone agreed they'd needed. And Wanda was using her magic to set up the rest of the room.

The three of you had had a long conversation about the theme of the nursery, which room they would have, and whether or not you would need one or two. Eventually, the three of you had come to an agreement on the nursery's theme. And you had all decided that the babies could share a nursery.

"Nesting, the overwhelming urge during pregnancy to clean, organize and prepare the home for the new baby." Vision read.

"See? You're an expert already. We've got nothing to worry about." Wanda assured, floating a mobile out of its box.

"We have nothing to worry about? We have two babies due at the same time." Y/N said, folding a purple baby grow. "They're gonna team up against us."

"We also have to worry about morning sickness, mood swings, aching backs and feet." Vision read before jumping out of the chair. "Darlings, you should probably sit down."

"Don't be silly. We're fine." Y/N soothed the android. "Women do this all the time. This is a natural part of life."

"We're excited, Vis," Wanda said as Y/N moved to stand beside her. "There's no morning sickness or mood swings, just excitement. And happiness, and, oh!" Wanda gasped. Y/N's stomach had brushed against hers, and suddenly, both women felt kicking.

"Kicking already?" Vision asked, dropping his book and pressing one hand to each woman's belly.

"It feels so weird. In a good way." Y/N smiled her hand atop Visions.

"It's kind of fluttery." Wanda giggled, her eyes shining with happiness.

After Wanda said that, the three noticed a quiet flapping sound in the room and turned to see the butterfly mobile had turned into real butterflies.

"Did I do that? I didn't mean to." Wanda said as Y/N reached out for a blue butterfly.

"Uh? Darling?" Vision asked, leaning his nose out, where an orange butterfly sat. "Hello, little fella." Vision chuckled as Wanda moved it off his face. "Well, if that was the first kick," He started as Wanda opened the window, and Y/N caused a gentle breeze to push the insects from the room. "That puts you two at about six months!" Vision gasped.

"And I thought you had super speed," Y/N commented, closing the window.

"I just can't keep up." Vision sighed. "Please don't misinterpret." He said as Wanda moved to stand before him. "I can't wait to meet you, little Billy!" He cooed, leaning down to Wanda's stomach.

"Billy?" Wanda asked, her nose scrunching up.

"Yeah. I just figured with two pregnancies, the odds of having a boy are at fifty percent." Vision informed her.

"Well, I was just thinking Tommy for a boy. You know, a nice classical, all-American name." Wanda explained.

"Yeah, Tommy, but there's also Billy, isn't there?" Vision said, causing Y/N to giggle.

"After Shakesphere?" Y/N questioned, raising a brow.

"Of course! You know, "All the world's a stage. All the men and women, merely players." Vision quoted.

"Well, I guess there's only one solution. Leave it to Y/N," Wanda said, and the two turned to the woman who raised her hands.

"I like both names," Y/N said sagely. "But if it's a girl. I like Luna." She told the two.

"Well, we ought to decide soon. I estimate the babies are due, it's not a constant progression, assumingly logarithmic, but were I to graph the fetal development thus far," Vision muttered to himself while Y/N and Wanda shared fruit out of a bowl.

"They're going to be here before you figure it out," Wanda informed their husband.

"Nearest I can conclude is that Luna and Billy,"

"Luna and Tommy."

"Are due Friday afternoon." Vision concluded, looking slightly scared at the revelation.

"In three days?" Y/N gasped, eyes wide.

"Maybe we should sit down," Wanda said, rushing out to the living room with Y/N and Vision at her side.

Wanda and Y/N sat at the kitchen island, nursing cups of tea (to Y/n's disgruntlement) while Vision sat at the dining table, a baby doll in front of him.

"I think we have an understanding." Vision said, staring the doll down. "Start the clock." Vision stated, setting the toy down, and when Wanda pressed the timer, he began to change it at rapid speed. "Done!" He announced, raising his hands.

"A new personal best!" Y/N announced with a grin as Wanda clapped.

"Yes!" Vision exclaimed proudly. "We are nothing if not prepared."

"Ooh!" Wanda gasped, her hand flying to her engorged belly.

"Sweetheart?"

"Darling?"

"Do any of your books talk about this?" Wanda asked, gently rubbing her bump. "It's not painful, but it's strange."

"A tightening sensation?" Vision asked, grabbing a nearby book and flipping through the pages.

"Yep, that's it."

"Yes. Where was it? Where was it? Aha! "Braxton Hicks contractions, also known as false labor, usually starts in the third trimester. Named after John Braxton Hicks in 1875." Vision began to recite.

"Sweetheart." Y/N cut him off as Wanda stared at him unimpressed.

"Sorry." Vision apologized. "Are you feeling any similar sensations Y/N?" Vision asked, rising to his feet as Y/N nodded.

"I just thought it was the baby moving," Y/N told her partners.

"This is excellent! This gives us a chance to work on our breathing exercises." Vision said, now standing before both his wife's. "It should go like this." He added before demonstrating the breathing pattern.

Both women copied his breathing a couple of times, but it didn't work.

"I can still feel it," Wanda told him.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh!" Y/N gasped, her hand clutching onto the counter tightly as the room began to heat up.

"Honey, turning it up a bit too high," Wanda said, fanning herself at the sudden temperature rise.

"I'm sorry, I just got so warm all of a sudden," Y/N said, wiping her forehead.

"Many women experience a change in temperature during pregnancy." Vision said before Wanda let out a loud grunt.

And that was the chaos began.

The kitchen tap began to run on high, the lights flickered, the fridge rattled, and the washing machine shook. All the while, the temperature remained ungodly warm.

"What the Dickens?"

"Oh, it's so warm."

"What is going on?"

"I think we should perhaps abandon the kitchen." Vision suggested, grabbing both women's hands and pulling them out of the moving kitchen.

The three made it into the dining room when the lights began to get brighter and brighter until they all burst.

The three were now standing back to back, hands raised and ready to defend themselves when everything got quiet.

"It stopped," Wanda whispered, afraid if she spoke too loudly, it would start again.

"Good," Y/N said as her body temperature and the room got cooler.

"I'll go check on the neighbors." Vision volunteered before rushing from the house.

As it turns out, the neighborhood did experience the after-effects of the women's contractions.

The weather had changed from a spring day to what felt more like a summer's day.

And many homes had lost their power.

"It appears the whole block is out." Vision informed the two as he reentered the house. "Oh, and be prepared to hear about the abnormal weather change."

"And all that was just from fake contractions." Wanda shook her head.

"Who knows what damage we'll cause when the show really gets rolling?" Y/N asked rhetorically.

"Do you think they know it's our fault?" Wanda asked Vision.

"Our neighbors?" Vision confirmed.

"Well, yes. With all the close calls we've been having, it seems the people of Westview are always on the verge of discovering our secret." Wanda explained, causing both her partners to stop.

"Yes, I know what you mean." Vision murmured.

"But it's more than that, isn't it?" Y/N wondered as she and Vision sat beside Wanda on the couch.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hart with dinner. Outside with Herb." Vision mused.

"The thing with Dottie," Y/N added.

"I think there's something wrong here, darlings," Vision told his wives.

"I don't think you're wrong." Y/N agreed while Wanda stared between the two.

"Yes, I know what you mean." Vision murmured. "The truth is, we are in uncharted waters." He said as he and Y/N sat beside Wanda on the couch. "And you know what? I am as anxious as you both."

"We just don't know what to expect," Wanda said, getting nods from both her partners.

"Nope." Vision agreed.

"Will they be human or come out red and gold?" Y/N asked, causing Wanda to smile. "Or will they be a bit of both?"

"If they're anything like their mothers Luna and Billy will be perfect." Vision promised.

"You mean Tommy." Wanda corrected with a smirk.

"Maybe."

Before the argument over baby names could continue, Wanda let out a loud gasp, causing Vision and Y/N to jump to their feet.

"Oh no, darling, are you all right?" Vision gasped, staring at Wanda with panic in his eyes.

"This is a real one!" Wanda exclaimed, leaning back on the couch.

"What?"

"I thought you said Friday afternoon!" Wanda demanded as Y/N kneeled in front of her placed a hand on Wanda's bump.

"Well, I didn't consider that the timings between developmental benchmarks could be quite random!" Vision defended himself as he began to float in the middle of the living room.

"Both of you need to calm down!" Y/N snapped, rubbing Wanda's stomach gently. "Breathe, both of you." She added before demonstrating the breathing techniques Vision had taught them.

Wanda began to follow along, and when both women turned to face him, Vision copied them.

As he centered himself, Vision was able to control his flight and stand on his own two feet. Wanda and Y/N, who needed help up, moved to stand in front of their husband took one of his hands each.

"Better?" Wanda asked, pressing Vision's hand to her stomach.

"Yes, darling, thank you, it's passing." Vision nodded as lightning cracked, and it began to pour in the living room.

"Oh, that's me." Y/N gasped, looking down. "I think my water broke."

"What?" Wanda and Vision gasped, now both soaked from head to toe.

"Why didn't you say you were feeling contractions?" Vision demanded as he pulled both women under a table.

"I wasn't!" Y/N exclaimed before letting out a whine, hand flying to her stomach. "I was fine until I touched Wanda's stomach!" She cried as Wanda took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"Do you think the babies are connected?" Wanda asked as Vision gently placed his hand on Y/N's stomach.

"There is a great possibility." Vision nodded. "It would explain why both pregnancies have been moving at the same rate." He said. "I'm sorry, but is there any chance you could stop the rain, please, darling?"

"I think I'm the one causing this now," Wanda said. "My waters broke."

"Well, I was just reading about the advantages of water birth." Vision joked.

Y/N crawled from under the table, and while knelt on the floor, she flicked her wrists and stopped the water flow.

"Oh, thank goodness." Wanda sighed.

"Let me help you up, dears." Vision said, crawling out of the table and helping both women to stand. "There we are."

"Oh, what a mess." Wanda gasped at the ruined furniture.

Wanda caused the sliding doors to fling open, and Y/N created a wind to dry off the three and their home.

"That's much better." Vision commented. Before he could say another word, both Y/N and Wanda were letting out groans and curling over, causing him to rush forward.

"Sweetheart, do you think it's time to,"

"Call the doctor." Vision nodded, rushing into the kitchen while Y/N pushed Wanda into a chair and sat herself.

"Yeah."

"Yes, I do, dear." Vision said, picking up the phone before slamming it down in anger. "Damn, the phones are down, too. I better run." He said, rushing towards the dining room. "Except he might have already left for vacation."

"What now?"

"At a time like this?"

"Well, in fairness, darlings, the babies are approximately nine months early." Vision tried to soothe the women. "I better leg it. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah." Wanda nodded, breathing heavily through her nose.

"Y/N?"

"We'll look after each," Y/N said with a nod.

"I will be back as soon as I can." Vision promised, pressing a kiss to both women's temples before speeding out of the house.

"Disguise!" Y/N and Wanda called, but Vision was already gone.

"You two really know how to make an entrance, huh?" Y/N joked before a chittering sound caused her to freeze.

"That's coming from the nursery," Wanda whispered, slowly rising to her feet and beginning to make her way to the room.

"Why are you going towards the scary noise?" Y/N quietly asked as she followed after her wife.

The two were slowly tiptoeing towards the room, barely breathing, as they tried to catch sight of the noisemaker.

DING DONG!

The doorbell rang loudly, causing both Y/N and Wanda to jump.

"Don't!" Y/N stopped her wife from getting the door. "No-one knows about this." She said quietly, gesturing to their bumps.

"Oh shoot!" Wanda sighed, rushing to the coat closest and causing two overcoats to float out.

When both women's bumps were significantly covered, Wanda opened the door to reveal Geraldine standing there with a smile.

"Wanda, Y/N, what's up?" She asked, looking the two up and down. "It's one hundred and ten degrees out. Are you making a fashion statement? Didn't you feel the temperature rise?" Geraldine asked, making her way into the house.

"Hi, Geraldine. You know, now is not really a good time." Wanda said apologetically.

"No, no, no, they're foxy. You'll have to let me borrow it sometime. Both of 'em." Geraldine said, talking about the coats both women were wearing. "But first, I gotta borrow a bucket."

"A bucket?" Y/N asked, cocking her head.

"Not to wear, to use." She clarified. "Somehow, all the pipes in my ceiling burst at once, and I gotta bail myself out," Geraldine told the two.

"I think you'll need more than one," Y/N commented.

"Just stay right here," Wanda told the woman. "We might have a couple in the kitchen. Y/N a little help?"

"Of course." Y/N nodded before the two ran off into the kitchen.

"I think they're just under the sink!" Wanda called before letting out a little scream at a painful contraction.

"Guys?"

"Everything's fine!" Y/N called out as Wanda's and her coat changed. "Just stay there!"

"Are you alright in there?" Geraldine asked.

"Yes! Everything's fine!" Wanda called.

"We're just looking!" Y/N added before letting out a loud grunt at her own contraction.

"I'll come help!" Geraldine offered, and Y/N and Wanda could hear her footsteps rushing towards them.

"No!" The two exclaimed.

"No, thank you." Wanda corrected, pulling off her coat, urging Y/N to do the same, and covering her stomach with a fruit bowl.

Geraldine entered the kitchen and made a beeline to the supply cupboard while Y/N grabbed a book from the counter and hid her stomach.

"Would you look at that?" Geraldine asked, turning to face the married women.

"What?"

"Fruit." Geraldine grinned, walking towards Wanda's fruit bowl. "Thank you!" She said, taking an apple and throwing it to herself.

"Well, good luck with the leak," Wanda said as she and Y/N attempted to usher Geraldine out of the house.

"Oh, thank, oh! Say girls, I have got a question for you two!" Geraldine said, moving to the couch. "You know how I've been working that temp job, right?" She wondered, taking a seat. "Well, my boss, Mr. Haddox, he was going crazy yesterday." She began to recount, but neither woman could focus on her words.

Neither woman could focus on Geraldine because right behind her, a stork was stalking around the room.

"Oh, look at me going on and on like you got all the time in the world." Geraldine sighed as she rose to her feet. "Let me go on and get out,"

"Wait, no!" Wanda exclaimed before Geraldine could turn around.

"Tell us all about the temp job!" Y/N demanded.

"There's my girls!" Geraldine smiled, sitting back down. "So yesterday, my boss, Mr. Haddox, was going crazy working on the new slogan for that new breakfast cereal. You know, the one with the little marshmallow moon men?"

"Yeah, of course." Y/N absent-mindedly agreed as she stared at the stork, walking around the living room.

"Right, so it's about ten minutes before the big presentation, and Mr. Haddox has got nothin'. Nothin', that is, except the worst case of hiccups I ever did see." Geraldine continued her story as Wanda tried to vanish the stork.

But nothing happened. The stork didn't disappear in the cloud of red smoke. Instead, the bird flapped its wings almost angrily at the attempt.

"I'm telling you he couldn't get one word out, let a whole pitch." Geraldine laughed. "So I'm trying every trick in the book to help this poor man. I'm hidin' behind filing cabinets and jumpin' out when he least expects it, like, boo!" She exclaimed, causing Y/N to jump and Wanda to scream as she threw an orange at the stork.

"Jesus, you two." Geraldine sighed, clapping a hand to her chest.

The stork had run away after Wanda threw fruit at it, but it was now making loud chipering noises, causing Geraldine to jump to her feet.

"What was that?" Geraldine demanded, looking around the room fearfully.

"What was what?" Y/N deflected, tilting her head to the side.

"Did you not hear that?"

"I don't think I heard anything. Did you, Wanda?"

"No."

"It was like a chattering sound, like, um," Geraldine tried to explain.

"Oh, like a" Wanda made a chittering sound herself. "That was our new icemaker built right into the fridge." She lied.

Geraldine turned to face the kitchen before turning back with a smile.

"Oh! You're fancy." Geraldine complimented, settling back into her seat as Wanda and Y/N chuckled nervously. "Let me get back to this story." She said before launching back into her recount.

It was getter harder for Y/N and Wanda to hide the fact they were in labor. Both women were stifling grunts and whimpers, only managing to do so by clutching the other's hand tightly.

Vision had to be back soon, right?

"So now, at this point, I am helping Mr. Haddox do a handstand under the water cooler because you know why not try a little upside-down action. Drink those hiccups away. And wouldn't you know it, at that moment, in walks the client?"

"Oh no." Y/N gasped as the stork reentered the room.

"Oh yes. Oh yes." Geraldine nodded, oblivious to the bird beside her. "But you know me, girls, I keep my cool no matter what's goin' down. And I look at the client, and I look at Mr. Haddox's feet floating in the air next to me, and I look back to the client, and I say, "Gravity Os, launch into your day, the right way." Geraldine explains with a cackle, not noticing the stork pecking at her fish pants. At her loud laugh and her shifting her legs, the stork runs away, back into the nursery.

"Oh, thank you!" Wanda laughs in relief as Y/N sank back into her chair with a sigh.

"Yeah, and that's what Mr. Haddox said right before he told me to clean out my desk," Geraldine said, taking a bite of her apple.

"Oh, Geraldine." Wanda gasped.

"Surely he didn't fire you?" Y/N asked, shaking her head at the idea.

Despite neither woman really listening to Geraldine's story, she was still their friend. And they would hate for her to be disappointed like that.

"Oh, sugars." Geraldine sighed before a grin fought its way onto her face. "He hired me!" She exclaimed.

"Oh!"

"Congratulations!"

"I landed a promotion!" Geraldine reiterated, standing with a wide smile. "And now that I've gone all corporate, I need some office supplies. Which brings me to my question. Do ya'll still keep those in your spare room?" She asked, moving towards the old spare room, now nursery.

As Geraldine moved towards the open room, Y/N and Wanda jumped to their feet, Wanda putting her fruit bowl down and Y/N dropping her book.

"Because I was hoping you wouldn't mind sharing with your good friend," Geraldine said, entering the nursery. The nursery where the stork had hidden.

"Is that what I think it is?" The woman asked, staring around the room with wide eyes.

"A stork, yes, we can explain," Wanda said but came up blank with an explanation.

"No, the cribs!" Geraldine exclaimed, looking at the two cribs with a smile.

But she never got her answer. Not that she really needed one as Y/N and Wanda let out loud grunts of pain.

"Oh shoot! I think it's time!" Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her bump as she hyperventilated.

"The babies are coming." Wanda panted.

"You're pregnant? You're both pregnant?" Geraldine asked, staring at her friend's now exposed stomachs in shock.

"Oh God, where's Vis?"

Vision was still running around town. One thing he'd forgotten to do before having left home was to check for Dr. Neilson's address.

Dr. Neilson was still at home, dressed for his vacation but under the hood of his car.

"Ow!" Neilson grunted after he hit his head on the bonnet. "Bermuda awaits, and my car decides to poop out right at this moment." He sighed before slamming the bonnet down.

Before the doctor could further complain about the situation, the man jumped into the air as Vision appeared before him.

"Mr. Vision!" He gasped. "Is everything okay with the wives?"

"Yes. Yes, very much so. So long as we hurry." Vision said, grabbing Neilson's arm and hoisting him onto his back.

Without another word, Vision was running home, Neilson secured on his back, not noticing the fact that Dr. Neilson's wife had been sitting in the car.

"But Stan! What about my brand new two-piece?" His wife yelled. But she was talking to no-one.

Vision was already rushing her husband to his home, a home where he would soon be able to meet his children.

Back at said home, Geraldine was panicking. She had had no idea that her friends were pregnant, and now they were about to give birth.

"Okay, Wanda, I'm gonna get you to the living room. Y/N, I'll be right back." Geraldine promised, taking Wanda's arm and pulling it around her shoulders.

"No worries, I'll be fine. I'll just try not to pop the kid out in here." Y/N grunted, sinking down onto the floor as her wife was pulled out of the room.

"Let's get you comfortable," Geraldine said, grabbing pillow's on the couch and attempting to set it up as Wanda sunk onto the floor.

"I think I'm just going to lay down right here." Wanda panted, making herself comfortable on the floor. "Where's Y/N?" Wanda gasped.

"I'm getting her now. I'll be right back." Geraldine promised, propping pillows under Wanda's head before rushing back into the nursery. "Let's get you up, Y/N." She said, gently pulling Y/N to her feet as the woman groaned.

"With Wanda. I need to be next to Wanda." Y/N said through gritted teeth.

Geraldine didn't question Y/N's request as she laid Y/N next to her wife, assuming both women were feeling quite frightened at the moment.

And while that was true, there was something else drawing them together.

The babies in their wombs seemed to be drawn to one another. The babies were connected. And even now, as they were so close to entering the world, they wanted to be near each other.

They needed to be near each other.

"Where's Vision?" Geraldine demanded as she grabbed pillows for Y/N.

"He ran to get the doctor," Wanda explained as the vacuum began to run in the background.

"He'll be here soon," Y/N added with a grunt.

"There's not enough time for that!" Geraldine denied. "You know the breathing, right?" She asked as she began to run around the house. "Girls, I can't hear you!"

But neither woman could respond as the pain was becoming blinding. And it wasn't like Geraldine would be able to hear over the chaos happening around them.

Photo frames were spinning, the fire was roaring, a violent wind was making its way through the house, and both women were screaming.

Geraldine hadn't noticed any of the noise until she was rushing back into the living room and a light fixture crashed onto the table.

"I may be late to the party, but I imagine there is a logical explanation for this," Geraldine said, sitting before the women with a bucket and blankets.

"Oh, it's all perfectly natural!"

"Just like this! Everything's fine!"

"Hey, hey, hey. You are doing great." Geraldine assured. "You are doing great. The two of you are doing amazing. Look at me. Look at me." She demanded before demonstrating the breathing techniques.

"Wanda, I can't do this," Y/N grunted.

"What? No, because if you can't do this, I can't do this. And we're too close to turn back now." Wanda said, reaching over and blindly taking Y/N's hand.

"I'll say it's too late because it's time to start pushing," Geraldine said.

"What?" Both women gasped.

"Wanda, you're crowning," Geraldine informed her. "Are you ready? You're ready. Push. Push, Wanda, push." She cheered as Wanda squeezed Y/N's hand tightly and screamed.

The house was alive as Wanda pushed, and her screams seemed to drown out the chaos in the house as everything reached its craziest.

And when Wanda stopped screaming, and the house went quiet, a new set of cries permeated the walls.

"It's a boy," Geraldine informed the woman as she wrapped the baby up.

"Oh, hi." Wanda cooed as the baby was placed in her arms.

"Oh, Wanda, he's perfect." Y/n smiled, reaching over to grab his little hand.

Before either of you could say another word, the front door was slammed open, and Vision was now standing in the living room with Neilson behind him.

"Did I miss it all?" Vision asked, staring at his wives.

"Nope, you're just in time," Y/N grunted. "Please, someone tell me it's time." She begged.

"I think you're ready to push." Geraldine checked, causing Vision to rush to kneel between his wives and the doctor to move into action.

Y/N's labor was much less chaotic than Wanda's. The only side effect that happened was the wind that rushed through the house before their daughter was born.

"She's gorgeous." Wanda smiled as the baby was bundled up and placed in Y/N's arms.

"Hey, Doc, why don't you help me out in the kitchen there?" Geraldine suggested, wanting to give the three a moment of privacy.

"Everything's happened so fast today. It's like I've been flying." The doctor said as he followed the woman out of the room.

"Well done, girls." Vision said, brushing hair off both women's faces.

"Don't you want to meet your children as yourself?" Wanda suggested. Vision quickly looked around before dropping his disguise.

"You're so strong." Wanda cooed as she handed Vision the boy.

"Do you want to hold her?" Y/N offered their daughter to her wife.

"I'd love to hold, Luna," Wanda said, causing Y/N to smile.

"Hello there, little Tommy." Vision cooed at the little boy in his arms.

"Tommy?"

"Yes, Tommy." Vision smiled, causing both Wanda and Y/N to smile at him before Wanda let out another scream.

"What?" Y/N and Vision exclaimed, staring at Wanda in shock.

Vision handed Tommy to Y/N and rushed to lift Wanda's skirt.

"Oh! Good heavens! There's another baby coming!" Vision cried.

"Billy?" Wanda exclaimed as she handed Luna over to Y/N and began to grunt as the urge to push grew stronger.

"Push, sweetheart, push!"

"Thirty fingers and thirty toes." Nielson commended thirty minutes after the birth of the three children.

Because of Billy's surprise entrance, Neilson had had to triple check that both women were okay and that there would be no more surprises that day.

He had made sure there were no more children on their way any time soon, that Y/N and Wanda could both feed all three babies and that they were both recovering well.

Now Wanda, Vision, and Neilson were each holding one of the babies ea while Y/N lay on the couch, exhausted after the day.

"You've got two healthy baby boys and one healthy little girl on your hands." Neilson complimented.

"Thank you, doctor." Wanda smiled, rocking Tommy in her arms.

"And thank you, young lady," Neilson said, turning to Geraldine with a smile. "I think you might have what it takes to be a nurse."

"Allow me to walk you out, doctor." Vision murmured, putting Luna into her bassinet and taking Billy from the doctor's arms and putting in the bassinet beside her.

"Oh, all right. As long as we actually walk this time." He said, causing a sleepy smile to appear on Y/N's face.

"We do owe you a debt of gratitude," Wanda said as she neared the bassinets.

"Big-time," Y/N murmured.

Well, doctor Neilson, I hope you're still able to make your trip." Vision said, leading the doctor out of his home.

"Ah yes, my trip. I don't we'll get away after all." Neilson admitted with a sigh. "Small towns, you know. So hard to... escape." He said, more to himself, before leaving Vision standing alone.

"Yeah." Vision shook his head before turning back to his home. He was about to reenter the house when he overheard Herb and Agnes hissing to each other.

"What is she doing in there?"

"I don't know."

"Howdy neighbors!" Vision called, causing both people to turn and wave quickly.

"Hey!"

"Howdy!" Agnes called before turning back to Herb. "Did you see her go in?"

"She just went right in."

Vision's curiosity was peaked. Which she were his neighbors talking about?

"Remarkable day we're having, no?" Vision asked, walking over to the two. "Did you lose power too?" He questioned Agnes.

"Oh, sure did." Agnes nodded with a sigh before plastering on a grin. "But, Ralph looks better in the dark, so I'm not complaining."

"Hi, Herb." Vision said, looking at the man strangely.

"Hey, buddy." Herb nodded quickly, lowering his hand just as fast. Both Agnes and Herb were looking at him nervously, and it was unsettling Vision.

"Well, I'll just get back to the girls." He excused himself, turning away.

"Vision!" Agnes called, forcing him to turn back. "Is Geraldine inside your house?" She asked, shifting uncomfortably.

"Yes. Why?"

"Why are you not tired?" Y/N mumbled, her face pressed into the couch cushions.

"I must just be special," Wanda said, hinting at her powers.

"Not fair."

"Go to sleep, sweetheart," Wanda said, brushing hair off Y/N's face.

"No, I want to stay up."

"You're exhausted, Y/N. Go to sleep. I'll wake you if the babies cry." Wanda promised.

"Okay. I'll just rest my eyes." Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. Wanda gently pressed her fingertips to Y/N's temple and helped her to sleep. Ensuring that she only had good dreams as she slept.

"I gotta say, you two are such strong ladies." Geraldine complimented as Wanda moved back to the bassinets.

"Oh." Wanda tutted, waving the compliment off.

"Can you believe it? Twin boys and a little girl! You know they're going to be the most overprotective brothers when they're older." Geraldine said, causing Wanda to freeze.

Distant memories, memories Wanda had forced to the back of her mind, were resurfacing. Memories of her own twin.

Her own overprotective twin.

"I'm a twin," Wanda mentioned, eyes glazed over. "I had a brother. His name was Pietro." Wanda said, her accent slipping on his name. Wanda turned to stare back at her children with a smile before she began to sing a familiar lullaby. A lullaby her mother had sung to her and Pietro.

"He was killed by Ultron," Geraldine said, causing Wanda to freeze. "Wasn't he?"

"What did you say?" Wanda demanded as a single tear slid down her cheek.

"She's new to town. Brand new." Herb told Vision.

"There's no family. No husband." Agnes added.

"There's nothing wrong with that." Vision said with a shrug.

"No home," Agnes told him.

"What?"

"What did you just say?" Wanda asked, staring at Geraldine blankly.

"I said, you're such strong ladies," Geraldine repeated. "Should I say it one more time for good measure?" She asked, moving towards the couch. Where Y/N was still sleeping, unbeknownst to what was happening.

"Don't go near her." Wanda snapped, stopping Geraldine in her tracks. "What did you say about Pietro?"

"Pietro?" Geraldine questioned, tilting her head in confusion. "Hey, I'll take a shift rocking the babies." She offered, beginning to move closer to the bassinets when the babies started to cry.

"No, I think you should leave." Wanda shook her head, blocking the bassinets from her view.

"Oh, Wanda, don't be like that," Geraldine said, staring at Wanda as if she were the crazy one.

"What do you mean she has no home?" Vision demanded, moving towards his neighbors.

"She came here because." Herb tried to say but couldn't finish his own sentence. "She came here because we're all,"

"She came here because we're all what? What're you trying to tell me?" Vision asked, staring at the two in confusion.

"What is that?" Wanda asked, staring at the pendant around Geraldine's neck.

"What?"

"That," Wanda said as Geraldine held the pendant between her fingers. "That symbol."

"I uh, I'm," Geraldine stuttered, looking towards Y/N, hoping the woman would help her.

"Who are you?" Wanda demanded, moving to block her wife from Geraldine's gaze.

"I don't,"

"She came here because we're all," Herb began to say but stopped when Agnes spun to face him.

"Stop it!" She hissed, staring at him with scared eyes.

"Who are you?" Wanda repeated, staring at the woman in anger.

"Wanda." Geraldine shook her head as she began to take a step back. "I'm. Wanda, I'm," Geraldine stuttered, unable to tell her.

"Well, I better get going. That macrame's not gonna hitch itself!" Agnes said with a smile as she grabbed her bike. She gave Vision a wink as she rang the bell before rushing away.

"Herb?" Vision asked, raising an eyebrow.

Vision wasn't going to back down. He needed answers, but Herb wasn't willing to give them.

"Catch you on the flip side, Vision," Herb said, grabbing his trimmers and rushing back into his home.

Without a second thought, Vision rushed back into his house, his disguise dropping when the door shut behind him.

"Wanda? Where's Geraldine?" Vision asked, rounding the couch to stand beside a sleeping Y/N.

"Oh, she left, honey," Wanda told him, not turning around to face him. "She had to rush home." She added, continuing to rock the babies with a blank face.

Miles away from the Vision home, on the outskirts of Westview, there was a loud crackling that ripped through the air.

The crackling continued until Geraldine was thrown through the electric barrier, and she landed on the ground with a crash.

Within seconds Geraldine's prone body was surrounded by loud noises, and a light covered her form.

She was surrounded.

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#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #vision x reader #wanda maximoff x vision #wandavision #wandavision x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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