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jeneveuxrein · 4 months

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best behavior (BLACKPINK Jennie)

word count: 11.2K

(this one was fun, lol)

You have a problem.

To some, it wouldn’t be considered a problem. Maybe more of a hassle, or an annoyance at the very least.

To you, however, this is nuclear. Talking a DEFCON level one type of situation.

It could’ve been easily avoided.

Almost stupidly avoided if you hadn’t been such a pushover.

You were at dinner with Rosie and Lisa two weeks ago. They invited you to join them and a couple of your other friends on a small camping trip over the coming long weekend. You considered it, but when they told you exactly who was going, the decision was easy.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Rosie asked after hearing your answer.

“Chaeng,” You dropped your fork, reaching for your wine glass, suddenly wanting something stronger. “If she’s going, you know I can’t.”

“It’s been years, oppa. She doesn’t mind,” Lisa said, nodding reassuringly.

“We literally just got to a place where we can be in the same room and not argue,” You reasoned, finishing your drink in one gulp.

“Which is why spending a few nights with her won’t be that hard,” Rosie smiles, adding, “She already knows you’re going, and she didn’t have much to say except for cool. So I think you’ll be okay. Plus, Jisoo and my sister will be there. You won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to.”

Rosie had a solid argument. It slightly irritated you that she said you were going before you were even invited. You reluctantly said yes, excited to get away from the constraints of the city with the hopes you wouldn’t have to say anything more than hello to her.

Her being Kim Jennie, your ex-girlfriend.

The one who got away. The one who you royally fucked things up with. Any and all cliches fit your disaster of a relationship.

You were young at the time. And stupid.

So very stupid.

You knew the moment Jisoo introduced Jennie to you at a party that she’d be the one you were going to marry.

It took groveling and nearly losing your dignity for Jennie to finally say yes after months of asking her out, that you’d do absolutely anything to make sure she knew you only had eyes for her.

But again, you were stupid.

Before Jennie, you had a bit of a history with women. Player seemed to fit, though you thought of it more as indulgence to spend your nights with a beautiful woman. You developed a reputation that all your friends knew of your unwillingness to commit.

Everyone was surprised at Jennie when she said yes. The girls, mainly Nayeon and Jihyo, were vocal about their opinions on your relationship, but Jennie didn’t care. She brushed them off, saying that she trusted you anyway.

Something you stupidly broke.

It was even more stupid whenever you thought about it, which was more than you’d like to admit.

You were at a party, celebrating Rosie’s promotion, when you received a message from Jennie that she wouldn’t be able to make it. Something had come up at work, and she wasn’t able to leave. You didn’t bother responding, ticked off again that work had become the priority.

You’d been dating for over a year at that point, and there was a small shift in your relationship. It was subtle, but enough for you to notice. It had been a small point of contention at first, then slowly built-up resentment turned into a huge argument about not spending time together anymore.

Because for Jennie, her climbing the corporate ladder was number one. You were considered second—one-point five as she would say. You’d throw it in her face, but she was adamant it was only temporary.

You really should’ve checked your messages again before you and Chaewon drunkenly stumbled into your apartment. If you did, then you would’ve known Jennie was waiting for you.

You froze as soon as you saw your girlfriend sitting on your couch, wearing a black silk robe with the slightest hint of lace peeking at the top. The guilt immediately washed over you as soon as you heard Chaewon sigh, a quiet stupid falling from her lips before she walked out. The only reason why she came home with you was because of the picture you painted of a broken heart, something that was a blatant lie, but soon became an obvious truth.

You tried to explain, words forming sentences that had no merit, no weight that could get Jennie to believe you. She remained silent the whole time, that her last words to you before she left was I trusted you and that was that.

You technically—if you wanted to be a real asshole—didn’t cheat. Nothing happened between you and Chaewon, but it was obvious that if Jennie didn’t show up, something would’ve happened. The intention was there, but you were stupid because you were young, immature, selfish and you couldn’t be patient. She never gave you any doubt that she didn’t want to be with you, but you were just stupid.

You still had to see her after that. You couldn’t avoid it. You had the same friends, and it didn’t help that you were close to Jisoo, Rosie, and Lisa—Jennie’s best friends.

In the beginning, you apologized every time you saw her, pleading—borderline begging—for her to give you one more chance. She would walk away, but you’d reach out to pull her back. Your face would be sore and red every single time.

It got to the point where you were just as petty as she was. You mocked her every time she spoke, making faces and scoffing at any word that came from her mouth. She would curse you out and you’d just smile, eliciting an even greater reaction that Lisa had to physically restrain her away before she bruised your face.

You didn’t get a pass. Jisoo kicked you square in the gonads once she found out what happened. Rosie threatened to sue you for whatever reason she could find. Lisa just shook her head, disappointed that you did what you swore you wouldn’t.

Lisa’s reaction hurt the most, reminding you of the effort you put to be with Jennie, and that was something you couldn’t forgive yourself for, the regret weighing on your shoulders every time you were in the same room with her.

A feeble attempt to try to move on was made, but it wasn’t fair to the women who genuinely showed interest in you to be paraded in front of Jennie as a means to make her jealous.

Whether it worked or not, you didn’t know. What you did know was that almost a year after you broke up, Jennie introduced everyone to her boyfriend—Taehyung.

And intentional or not, you were jealous.

You wanted to deck him square in the jaw for some comment he made during a conversation about cheating, but Lisa was there to pull you outside, reminding you that you had every intention of cheating on Jennie because of what your relationship was at that point.

“She’s trying, oppa. She loved you too, but it wasn’t enough for you to wait,” Lisa lit up a cigarette after watching you kick a few chairs over.

That stuck with you, forcing you to mellow out whenever Jennie was there. You started to politely greet her, which she met with a cool indifference, unfazed by your change in attitude.

It became cordial at the very least. The walls were up and you didn’t have it in you to break them down. You helped build them up after all.

So the problem you’re currently experiencing could’ve just been avoided if you were firm in your no.

“Why do you look stressed out?” Rosie asks as your jaw clenches, a headache forming in between your eyebrows.

“Count how many tents we have,” You grit out, staring at the reserved camp site.

“One… Two… Three… What’s wrong… Oh,” Rosie’s voice falls flat when she realizes what the problem was. “Shit, let me go talk to Alice.”

You sigh when Rosie drops the wood she was holding on the ground, hurrying over to where Alice is. You quickly hear the siblings start to argue, causing you to sigh again because the only option that you think of is if you leave and come back to pick them up.

“Why are they arguing?” Jennie asks out of nowhere, that you drop the wood you just picked up.

“Jesus, when the hell did you get there?” You shake your head, doing everything you can to regulate your heartbeat.

“I just got here,” Jennie shrugs as if she didn’t scare you. “So what’s going on?”

“There’s only three tents,” You awkwardly answer, bracing yourself for her to yell at you for forgetting to bring the tent.

The sleeping arrangements were decided on the hike to the campsite. The Park siblings would share a tent, Lisa and Jisoo would bunk together, while you and Jennie had your own tents. When you finished putting together the third tent and went to look for the fourth, it could not be found.

“I can just sleep by the fire,” You offer, already thinking of how you’ll get sick and how your assistant will hate you for missing work.

“It’s fine,” Jennie waves you off, placing the water jugs at her feet. “We can share.”

“Wh-what?” You stutter out, eyes widening. “We don’t need to do that.”

“Stop being difficult,” Jennie rolls her eyes. “We can be adult about things, and it would make me feel bad if you got sick.”

You open and close your mouth, but no words come out. You’re rendered speechless. Jennie hasn’t said anything remotely nice to you in over three years. The fact that she’s offering to share the tent with you speaks volumes.

“Careful,” You say with the slightest hint of teasing, “It’s like you almost care about me or something.”

The muttered shut up you hear has you absolutely grinning. It goes away the second she ‘accidentally’ kicks your shin as she steps over to the log.

“Watch out, Jendeuks,” Jisoo slurs out, the effects of the soju catching up to her. It’s catching up to all of you at this point. “Oppa doesn’t behave around drunk girls, especially if he’s drunk himself.”

“Jisoo,” You roll your eyes, watching the women around you laugh at your expense.

“What?” Jisoo’s eyes narrow in your direction. “I don’t need to wake up tomorrow morning with the mandu upset for you trying something with her.”

“I’m not even going to do anything!” You raise your arms up in defense, shaking your head.

The girls, Alice included, had a field day when Jennie told them you’d be sharing the tent with her. They relentlessly teased you, almost to the point of where you’d rather get sick and end up in the hospital than having to share the next few nights with Jennie.

“Ah,” Lisa clicks her tongue, waving a finger at you, “We’d have to watch out for Jennie instead, since Taehyung broke things off with her.”

What?

“Lisa,” Jennie grits out, eyes glaring at the youngest member. “Shut the fuck up.”

“What? Who cares, he sucked anyways,” Lisa honestly answers. “He was so insecure over op–”

Jennie’s hands are over Lisa’s mouth before she could finish that sentence. It piques your interest since it sounded like their breakup had something to do with you, but you couldn’t understand how you were involved.

“On that note,” You watch Jennie and Lisa wrestle, “I’m going to bed.”

“It’s probably best if we all call it a night,” Alice stands, nodding in agreement that it was time for sleep.

“Jen,” You say, out of habit more than anything, that it has the two women stopping to look at you. When you realize your slip up, you awkwardly scratch your head, “Err, uh, you can change in the tent first, I’m just going to head to the bathroom. Leave it unzipped when you’re done, please.”

You don’t bother waiting for her to respond, knowing she’ll do it anyways.

By the time you return, the tent’s unzipped. You slip your shoes off before awkwardly climbing into the tent. It’s big enough for three people, but comfortably with two people and all their belongings. Your sleeping bags are on opposite sides of the tent, which the set-up isn’t as bad as you thought it would be.

“Hey,” You greet her quietly, unzipping your sleeping bag to add another layer of warmth since the temperature suddenly dropped as soon as the sun set.

“Hi, do you need to change?” Jennie asks politely, head tilting towards the tent entrance.

You shake your head, deeming your sweats and hoodie were more than enough since you had an extra blanket. “I’m good.”

“Okay, well,” Jennie shuts off the lamp once you’re tucked in, “Good night.”

“Good night,” You murmur, listening to the fabric rustle as she settles into her sleeping bag.

Once it goes completely silent, except for the not-so-hushed conversation between Jisoo and Lisa from the other tent, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your eyes slowly close before sleep takes you, the tiredness from the day knocking you out.

You hear your name being called out, forcing you out of your slumber. It couldn’t be that early based on the small amount of light casted on the tent.

You look around before hearing your name again and realize Jennie’s the one saying it.

“Jennie?” You whisper out, sitting up to Jennie’s sleeping bag much closer to yours than where it was before you fell asleep.

What happens next has you sinking back into your sleeping bag when Jennie moans, a sound you’re all-too familiar with.

Fuck is all that crosses your mind. You’re completely fucked and if there was some higher being out there, you would pray to them every day on your knees to get you out of this situation. It’s probably retribution for all the wrongs you’ve ever done in your life, and to hear your ex-girlfriend moan your name while she’s asleep is the worst kind of fate.

You never thought you’d hear her like that ever again, but it reminds you of all the times she did.

You wouldn’t exactly say you had a high sex drive because you are human, but when it came to sex and threw Jennie in the mix, it was hard for you to control yourself. Your relationship was physical, as expected from any healthy relationship, but there was something that could never compare to the other women you’ve known so intimately.

When she told you she loved you, you made sure you showed her exactly how much you loved her right back.

You were into kinks and the like, but the word daddy out of her mouth had you fucking her like your life depended on it.

Sometimes it did. She would always want more, losing herself around you that had you lost with her, but you’d find each other in the end.

So yeah, the universe or higher being or whoever the fuck has it out for you.

“Daddy,” Jennie moans out, louder than she probably intended that you had to get the fuck out of the tent and jump off a cliff and into the lake.

“Fuck,” Your body’s conditioned to have a visceral response, that it starts to react to her mumblings. You feel hot as the blood rushes south, awakening your cock as her breaths get breathier.

You nearly stumble out of the tent, the cool air hitting your lungs as you get your footing. You ignore the pit in your stomach, brushing away all thoughts of Jennie like that. You fucked up any chance to be with her the moment you showed up to your apartment with another woman.

You let out a quiet groan before deciding that you might as well prepare breakfast.

You avoid Jennie for most of the day.

You couldn’t look her in the eye once she woke up after hearing her and whatever dream she had of you. It almost felt too personal to witness that, especially without her knowing.

It wasn’t easy though with Rosie and Lisa doing everything in their power to make sure you were paired off together. The thought of them scheming to get you back together crossed your mind, mainly because they both knew how you felt and if the chance ever arose, you’d do anything to be with Jennie again. It was a fleeting thought because hell would have to freeze over.

You could have been imagining things, but Jennie seemed to avoid you as well. She wouldn’t make eye contact with you when you spoke. She would give little to no response when you were part of a conversation.

The day just started off weird, yet you still have this get-together with the people from a neighboring campsite after meeting them on the hike.

Lisa wraps an arm around your neck, “Anyone catch your attention?” She asks loudly as you follow the rest of the girls.

“No,” You scoff, rolling your eyes as you shake her hold off you.

“It’s okay if there is, you know,” Lisa says as she falls in step with you. “Just make sure you do whatever activities at their campsite. I’m pretty sure that’s where Jennie-unnie draws the line.”

“He could do whatever the fuck he wants,” Jennie comments from in front of you.

“Such a masochist, unnie,” Rosie drawls out. “Hearing an ex fool around would kill me.”

You’re about to tell both of them to knock it off, but Jennie’s faster, “He’s not going to fool around with anyone, right?” She stops in her tracks, causing you to bump into her, hand reflexively reaching out to steady her so she wouldn’t fall.

“Controlling,” Jisoo mutters, but everyone hears her loud and clear.

It puts you on the spot because on one hand, you have nothing stopping you from doing anything, while on the other hand, you’re trying your best to at least get to the point where you could be friends with Jennie.

“Right,” You concede, surprising yourself and the women around you. You quickly drop your hand, giving Jennie a tight smile as she stares at you.

Best behavior you think to yourself once the group starts walking again.

Best behavior, as you so called it, applied to you. It didn’t, however, apply to others.

You could not control the behaviors of other people, no matter how much you try.

It’s been ‘nice’ hanging out with the girls from the nearby campsite. You use ‘nice’ loosely because it’s been hell for you having to balance the woman on your lap and the woman across the fire glaring at you everytime you look up.

As soon as you sat down, one of the girls—Ryujin—beelined for you, taking most of your attention away from everyone else.

Ryujin’s pretty. You have eyes, and you’d think most people would agree. She seemed shy when you met her on the hike, but something was different by the time you arrived. You chalked it up to the few empty soju bottles you saw that they had already started drinking. She was a lot more forward, throwing your whole best behavior self-talk down the drain.

How she ended up in your lap? You have no idea. You tried to politely push her off, but you didn’t want to cause a scene.

“Wanna hang out in my tent?” Ryujin whispers, the faint scent of alcohol lingering in her breath.

The implication was there.

If it was any other situation where your ex-girlfriend wasn’t there, you would.

But said ex-girlfriend is there.

From the corner of your eye, Jennie stands, whispering something in Rosie’s ear that has her standing as well.

“I’ll walk back with you,” Your ears perk up.

“It’s really fine, Chaengie. I’m just tired from today,” Jennie forces a smile, but you sensed something else was off.

“Are you sure?” Which Jennie nods before bidding farewell to the others.

Jennie, however, doesn’t say anything to you and leaves before you could ask if she was okay.

“So…what do you say?” Ryujin’s voice tears your gaze away from Jennie’s retreating figure.

“I’m sorry, I should go with her,” You gently tap at her shoulder, which she begrudgingly stands.

It catches the attention of the others, prompting Lisa to ask what you’re doing when you fold the blanket, handing it to Ryujin.

“I’m going,” You shrug as if it’s no big deal. You don’t miss the way Lisa and Rosie’s head tilt. Jisoo rolls her eyes while Alice just drinks, oblivious.

“What a gentleman,” Yuna comments, her friends nodding in agreement.

You tell the girls that it was nice meeting them, that maybe you’ll see them in Seoul because Lisa will definitely want to see them again. Ryujin gives you a longer-than-necessary hug, which Jisoo snickers because your friends know the exact reason why you’re leaving so abruptly.

Jennie walks fast.

For someone who’s one of the smallest in the group, she gained some distance from the campsite before you finally caught up.

“Jennie,” You call out a couple meters away. She stops, but doesn’t turn around. It gives you enough time to meet her.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Like in Ryujin’s tent?” Her voice is cold, distant, detached even. It immediately takes you back to that night.

When you don’t respond, Jennie walks away.

You won’t make the same mistake again and if it leaves you with a black eye, it is what it is.

You don’t let her get that far, reaching for her shoulder that she shrugs you off before turning around so fast that you almost lose your balance.

“Don’t touch me,” Jennie says sharply.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You ask. She’s starting to actually piss you off. You’re sure that if you weren’t a bottle of soju in, you wouldn’t get this upset. You’d rather blame it on the alcohol than unresolved feelings.

Jennie scoffs, rolling her eyes, “My problem? You’re seriously asking me what my problem is?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Her next move has your cheek stinging.

“Jennie, what the fuck,” You rub your face. She’s slapped you before, but there was actual force behind that one.

“You’re my fucking problem. To this fucking day, you’re still my fucking problem,” Jennie suddenly invades your space, chest against yours as she looks up at you.

“I’m not even doing anything,” You sigh, dejected and tired. If there’s one thing you don’t want to do right now is to argue with her.

“You are. Just being around you is so fucking hard,” Loose fists hit your chest three times before she collapses into you. “Do you not understand how hard it is to watch some girl throw herself at you and you fucking entertain it?”

Her confession catches you off guard because you always wondered what she thought when you were around girls. You gently place your hands on her waist, and her body freezes.

“Jen,” You say quietly.

“No, I can’t do this,” Jennie’s out of your hold, walking away.

It takes you a minute because there’s a lot for you to process, but you act quickly, following after her.

Thankfully the fire you lit still burns bright, and you see Jennie’s near the tent.

You call her name out before she could unzip the tent. When she doesn’t face you, you jog toward her, refusing to let this go.

“Can you just talk to me? You’re getting mad at me for doing something I can’t control,” You almost reach for her again, but experience has taught you to tread lightly.

“What’s there to talk about? We’re not together so if you want to fuck Ryujin, be my guest,” Jennie says lowly.

“Did you want me to?” Your temper flares, words cutting right through you. “Did you want to hear me fuck someone? Rosie was right, you are a masochist.”

Jennie turns suddenly, her arm winding back but you’re quicker this time, grabbing her arm.

“Let fucking go of me,” Jennie struggles in your grasp, but you’ve always been stronger.

“No,” You pull her body flush against yours before wrapping an arm around her waist, securing her tightly. Her head falls back, eyes narrowing. “You’re being a fucking brat.”

“And what’re you going to do about it?” You watch her expression darken, a look you haven’t seen in years.

“This,” You slam your lips on hers, swallowing the gasp she lets out once your teeth meet.

You feel everything.

The way her arms try to break free from your hold.

The way her hips fold, but can’t go anywhere.

The way her breath hits you as you move your mouth, granting you access before her body relaxes.

The way she presses herself against you.

“This good enough?” You murmur in between kisses, her arms snaking around your neck as she melts into the kiss.

“I’ve had better,” Jennie taunts, slightly panting as you gently bite her lip.

“Then you don’t need me,” You move your tongue in her mouth swiftly before pulling away.

“Wait, what’re you doing? Come back,” Jennie stands on her tiptoes as she tries to bring you back.

“You said you had better,” Raising an eyebrow as you loosen your grip, but Jennie’s arms are ironclad around you. “So…” You shrug.

“No no,” Jennie shakes her head, biting her lip as she stares at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Off Jen,” You say simply and she complies, hands at her side has you stepping back.

It’s a dynamic you’re familiar with.

It’s toxic at the minimum.

Degrading at its absolute worst.

You and Jennie hardly argued. You could count on both hands the amount of blow ups you’ve had. It would get aggressive, but with what followed after, was so much better. It might not have been the healthiest way to deal with conflict, but you’d work through it—blissed out, hormones working in overdrive.

“Please,” Jennie says quietly.

“Please what?” You cross your arms, gaze never breaking as you watch the internal war she’s having with herself.

It’s a bit risky to do this right here, right now, but you’re hyper-aware of the effect she’s having on your body. If she responds the way you want her to, you’ll be sent into overdrive.

“Please,” She shakes her head, eyes casting down.

“Say it,” You gently cup her chin, tilting her head backwards as your lips ghost against hers, “Say it, princess.”

Jennie lets out a moan, a breathy one at that before she says what you’ve missed so much.

“Please, daddy.”

“Good girl,” You kiss her sweetly this time, an almost tender kiss that has her sneaking a hand underneath your hoodie. “Ah, ah, did I say you could touch me?”

Jennie’s head shakes, her lips never leaving only to say, “No.”

“If you want to get fucked, behave,” She immediately pulls her hand out from underneath, wrinkling your clothes as she waits in anticipation. You’re at the point of no return.

She’s the only one that could bring this side out of you.

“Yes sir,” Jennie says, voice shaking.

Without a word, you let her go. You smirk at the whine she lets out.

You unzip the tent and grab her hand, fingers interlaced before dragging her inside. You ask her to sit while you rearrange the sleeping bags. She offers to help, but you shake your head since it won’t take long. It helps that the sleeping bags are a matching set, allowing you to easily make one giant sleeping bag.

When you finish, it’s obvious that Jennie’s doubting this, the etch of concern on her face says it all. It forces you to switch into the side you’ve always been when it came to her because she was the most important, her comfort was your top priority—still is.

“Jen,” You say softly, scooting over to her before stretching your legs around her. She looks up, and something scratches at your ribcage, “We don’t have to. Swear. We can forget this happened.”

Like you could.

The thought of asking for a transfer abroad crosses your mind so you wouldn’t have to see her.

“I couldn’t do that,” Her voice is quiet, the slight tremble you’d hear whenever she’d whisper her fears, on top of the pillow, head tucked under your chin. “It did happen. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Jen-” She shakes her head.

“I… Don’t laugh okay,” Jennie swings her legs around, crossing them as she takes your hands. “It’s just confusing right now. Yes, Tae broke up with me, but not for the reason you think. It’s actually stupid.”

“Okay I won’t laugh, so shoot.”

Jennie starts playing with your fingers, tickling the skin that has your back shivering, as she tells you what happened. They were fooling around—you really didn’t want to hear that—and Tae asked her to call him daddy. She thought he was joking because she never got the impression he was into that. She described their sex life as vanilla, not that she minded. Her desires weren’t strong enough to make him do them, and she liked him enough to let that go.

The part that had your eyes open like saucers was when she said she wouldn’t. She opened her mouth to say it, but her voice got caught in her throat. She couldn’t say it, it felt wrong to.

“Uh so what you’re saying is—”

“Shh,” Jennie pinches your palm, “I’m not finished.”

Taehyung took offense when she shook her head. He stood, demanding why not. She really couldn’t think of a reason. She tried to play it off like she wasn’t into that, but he didn’t believe her.

Then he brought you into the conversation. By his logic, you were the last boyfriend so it had to be because of you. You were also Jennie’s first serious relationship.

She denied that because there was no reason as to why it would. They argued, going back and forth about why you were still in her life. It ended with him leaving her apartment, needing to cool off.

There were a couple days in between before they spoke again. He had his clarity, realizing he overreacted and didn’t want to push her if that wasn’t something she was into.

On her end, Jennie was confused. It struck something in her when he said that she never got over you. In the heat of the moment, she didn’t pay it any mind. As soon as he left, it came barreling back.

She thought it was because he was jealous. He always sighed whenever she mentioned you’d be at the same events. He would be more affectionate whenever you were around. It didn’t cross her mind, but that was the only thing that made sense.

Then the idea of calling Taehyung, her current boyfriend, daddy has her stomach in knots. It didn’t feel right at the mental image of him and that word together. Her mind drifted to yours and she shot up from the bed when she she slipped her hand underneath her shorts.

“So again, for my understanding, is that—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jennie rolls her eyes, slapping your thigh.

When you chuckle, she glares.

“Sorry sorry, continue.”

Jennie couldn’t believe it. She had no way to explain the visceral response her body had at the thought of you. She admitted that she actively pushed down any thoughts of you as soon as you broke up, adding that no other guy ever made her feel the way you did.

(That comment went straight to your head, which she must have seen the way your face lit up because she punched your inner thigh.)

When it was Jennie’s turn to speak, what she originally wanted to say was not what actually came out. She wanted to break up. In that short time apart, her attraction for him dipped and she didn’t want to be with him anymore. She called it a change of heart and that the relationship ran its course. He wasn’t expecting that, pleading that he’ll be better, but she was firm in her decision.

She took the break-up as it was. She expected to be sad, which she was. She explains she gave herself time to think and process what she actually felt. It didn’t help that she saw you frequently, confusing her feelings. She wanted you, but at the same time, she didn’t think she could trust you.

“Then, you fucking wrap your coat around me one night after dinner and when I asked you what the hell you were doing, you just shrugged, saying I looked cold,” You remember that night. She was running late and forgot to bring a jacket. She cursed you out in front of everyone, but you didn’t care. You were used to that. You did, however, care if she was cold. “And it was obvious you still cared about me.”

“Well yeah,” You say pointedly. “Nothing physical happened between Chaewon and me. Yeah she might’ve been all over me, but I never kissed her.”

“But you would’ve, right? If I wasn’t there,” Jennie lets go of your hands.

“I don’t know, probably,” You shrug. That night still haunts you, and it’s not the most pleasant thing for you to think about. She gives you a look, but doesn’t say anything else.

“So yeah, that’s why we broke up,” Jennie’s hands fold onto her lap.

“All I’m getting is that you belong to me,” You smirk as she rolls her eyes. You act as if you completely missed the point of the story. You didn’t, but it went straight to your cock finding out Jennie touched herself because of you.

“I’m not your fucking property,” Jennie deadpans.

“I’m not saying you are. What I am saying, however,” You scoot closer to her, moving her hands out of the way before reaching for her hips, easily lifting her on top of you, “Is that your body wants me.”

“Not true,” Jennie’s voice shakes when your lips ghost along her neck.

“We don’t have to decide what this is right now. You know, deep down, I want to be together. I was–still am–serious about marrying you, that hasn’t changed,” You press your lips underneath her jaw, head tilting back to give you more access, “I’m sure you won’t make it easy for me.”

“Who said we’re getting back together?” Jennie sighs as her hands rest on your neck, hair threading through her fingers.

“Me,” You murmur, sucking slightly on her skin. “So let me start now, okay?”

“Fine,” You smile against her skin, tongue soothing the mark you know everyone will tease her if they see it. She tugs you off, a pout forming on your face, “Slow?”

“Whatever you want, princess,” You tease, sucking in a breath when her body rolls, hands gripping her waist a little tighter. “Your call tonight.”

Jennie stares at you for a moment, and you don’t waver, keeping her gaze to show you’re serious.

“Mine?”

“Yours.”

A double entendre.

Jennie slips her hands underneath your sweater, pulling it off you, exposing your bare torso, before bringing you in for a heated kiss. Your body quickly reacts, cock stiff as she grounds her hips over you. You’re fighting for dominance as your tongues wrestle, swallowing all the airy pants and gasps falling from her mouth.

“Fuck,” You moan as she bites hard on your bottom lip. “I thought you wanted slow.”

“You talk too much,” Jennie gets out in between kisses.

“I thought you liked it when I talk,” You detach your lips, trailing them along her jawline. Sweet kisses have her body shivering.

“I preferred it when your mouth did other things,” Jennie breathes out, head falling back as you nip on her skin.

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it,” You say lowly as you continue your onslaught all over her neck. She’ll probably have to wear your hoodie to cover all the love bites, and she’ll definitely yell at you in the morning.

You do not care.

“You know what I want.”

You do, but you won’t make it this easy for her.

“Probably,” Your hands guide her movement, applying delicious friction over your sweats. It garners you a deep moan as she grabs your shoulders to steady herself. “But you know I like hearing you princess.”

Jennie loudly moans after a particularly hard suck, fingers pulling on your hair as her hips circle over you. She mumbles something that you can’t quite hear, sneaking a hand underneath her hoodie. Her body shivers at your touch.

“What’d you say?” Thumb rubbing gentle circles over her back.

“Fuck me.”

“Be more specific,” You taunt, the warmth emanating in between your bodies, and you just know she’s fucking soaked.

“You’re being a fucking tease,” Jennie groans once your lips meet her collarbone, “We don’t have that much time.”

She has a point. You’re not sure when the others will return, but Alice will make everyone leave if they get too much.

“You know I can’t just fuck you,” You murmur, burying your face into her neck. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Jennie whimpers, grinding herself over you, the ache in your cock has you groaning. “I can take you.”

“I have to stretch you out, princess.” Not that you’re bragging, but you know you’re well above the average. The amount of shock through the years said enough.

Jennie shakes her head as her hips lift from her position. You whine, in an attempt to pull her back, but she stands, untying her sweats before it falls down her legs.

Your mouth waters at the site of Jennie’s pussy right above you. The dim lighting of the tent lamp shines a slick dripping down her inner thighs. She’s absolutely gushing and it turns you on that it was all because of you. You quickly slip the waistband of your sweats down, freeing your cock. It slaps against your stomach, and you notice your tip weeping leaking.

“You want my mouth, baby?” You stare up at her, uncaring as you lick your lips. You could almost taste her. Your hand encloses around your length, slowly stroking yourself as you imagine your face in between her legs.

Jennie shakes her head once again, gently tilting your head back to give her a better view of you touching yourself, “Lay back.”

You don’t hesitate. You follow her command, keeping a steady pace with your hand as you watch Jennie step over you, feet falling on the outsides of your legs.

Jennie lowers herself, shutting the lights off and keeping her gaze on yours. You sharply inhale as the apex of her thighs get closer to your cock, increasing your movement that your forearm starts to burn.

The moment her slick touches the tip of your cock, Jennie squeals, biting her lip to muffle the sound. You groan, dropping your hand as your length slides in between her lips.

“Jen,” You pant, hands shooting to her hips to steady her, but it ends up dragging her wetness all over your cock. “I need to prep—”

“No, no,” Jennie’s eyes roll back as her hips rock over yours. “I can handle you. I’m so fucking wet for you. Let me, please daddy please.”

It’s like a switch went off as she moans, rolling her body in a wave as she rubs herself over you.

“Princess,” The nickname has her mewling, hips stuttering as your cock hits her clit. “Tonight’s about you.”

“I want your cock, daddy.” She falls forward, arms resting on your chest as her hair covers your face. She kisses your neck, heavy breaths, as her hips swirl. “It’s been so long. I need to be filled.”

Her filthy words have you blindly thrusting up, brushing through her lower lips as she moans into your skin.

“Good ahead, baby.”

Jennie reaches her hand backwards, fingers delicately wrapping along your girth. You buck into her hand, groaning as she rubs it around her hole. Once she guides your tip into her entrance, her hips seductively roll down to take you in.

You swear you see stars the moment her pussy wraps around the head, her walls squeezing you tightly. Her hands press hard into your chest, pushing her body upright as you watch her head fall back. When your eyes glance down, you groan at the sight of your cock in between her legs.

“Daddy,” Jennie’s eyes open slowly, breaking your gaze to her eyes low, lust taking over as she lowers herself more.

“Yes princess?” You suck in a breath as her slick drips down your cock.

“Tell me I’m good,” Jennie circles her hips, knees spreading slightly as her body adjusts to your size. “I’m being good right?”

“Good girls take all of me,” You watch, hypnotized as she continues her movement, your length gradually disappearing more and more. Her body recoils before dropping even lower that your hands tightly grip her waist.

“Daddy,” Her nails dig into your skin, hips shaking side to side. “Please, I’ll be good. Let me be good.” She trembles in your hold, walls accommodating your size.

Your resolve’s slipping. Fast.

With Jennie moaning and the sight of her struggling to take you in has your hands dropping. You mutter a fuck as the pressure around your cock increases tenfold, her body tensing as nails raking down your chest. The pain is short-lived as the warmth from her walls spurs you on, causing an involuntary thrust up as gravity pushes her down.

“Holy shit, Jen.” Your eyes snap to see your length gone, fully sheathed inside her as her pussy tightens.

Jennie freezes, hands gripping your sides, before letting out a filthy moan.

“Daddy, am I being good?” She leans back, her hands on your knees before slowly rolling her hips up.

“So fucking good,” You don’t recognize your voice, eyes locked on watching your cock appear in between her legs.

“I missed you,” Her body shivers as she takes you in again.

It’s a confession, something she’s been holding in for a while based on how she rides you slowly, intently, purposefully—to remind you just what you’ve been missing since.

All you can do is moan because she feels too good wrapped around you, the overstimulation of her walls hugging your cock in the best kind of way. Sex has always felt good, but with her, it just feels like more.

Your hand slips underneath her hoodie, gently palming her breasts as she moves above you. She’s always been reactive to your touch, and you couldn’t forget the spots that always have her begging for more.

“Such a good girl,” You watch her hips gyrate into figure eights, hypnotizing you as she mewls with every roll. Her walls tighten at the praise, her slick getting slicker.

Jennie’s mouth is suddenly on your lips, attacking with such gusto as her pace increases. Her clit brushes against your public bone and you can feel her impending orgasm from her pussy’s death-like grip.

If this is how you go, what a way to die.

Your hands find hers, interlacing your fingers together. She never breaks away, shoving her tongue into your mouth as she pants and moans like the good girl she is. She brings your arms overhead, hips grounding on top of yours.

“I’m gonna cum daddy,” Jennie mumbles weakly against you, her hips stutter, pace erratic as she fucks herself all over your cock.

You snap your waist upward, leaving no spot in between her walls untouched, and she loses it. She lets go of your hands, arms wrapping tightly around your neck as she holds on.

All you can focus on is getting her to cum because time is running out. You continue thrusting, hands easily finding her hips as you guide her movements, the sound of your bodies spurring you on.

“Baby,” You grit out, hips erratically pounding up into her. The change in nickname meant you were close, too close that you might release inside of her.

“Do it daddy,” Jennie raises her head slightly, eyes locked onto yours. “You know you want to,” She whispers, breath ghosting over your lips as her body slams against yours.

“Princess wants me to cum inside her?” You breathe out, hands trailing down to cup her buttocks, massaging the flesh.

“Yes,” Jennie whines, “Please.”

You’re getting closer and closer, and it’s helping almost too well that Jennie mumbles the dirtiest things, too explicit that if it was anyone else, they’d run away.

It’s you though, too turned on by her body and her words that as soon as the words breed me daddy fall from her lips you lose it. Your orgasm crashes through your body. You sit up as Jennie continues working herself over your cock, feeling you release, wailing, whimpering as it floods her.

Jennie’s body seizes in your hold, back arching as her walls suddenly spasm around your length, prolonging your orgasm. You swear her pussy’s pulsing and your vision goes white, holding her tightly against your chest as you rut into her.

Her teeth sink into your shoulder, the pain adding to the pleasure, as she fails miserably to muffle her scream. You pray to whatever higher beings there are that the others aren’t on their way back yet because she’s loud.

You gasp for air as her chest heaves on top of yours.

You weren’t expecting to have sex this weekend, let alone Jennie of all people. You’ve toned down on the nights with random women, something Rosie and Lisa commend you for. It wasn’t without question, which you were honest that you wanted to at least try to have another relationship.

You rub soothingly over Jennie’s skin, body slightly shivering at the contact as goosebumps form underneath your touch.

“Hi,” Jennie mumbles against your neck, still a bit breathy as she catches her breath.

“Hi yourself,” You squeeze the pliable muscle, molding against your hand. “You’re okay, right?” You’re concerned because you both went a little—a lot—rough on each other’s bodies.

“Yes,” Jennie taps your nose playfully. “I forgot how big you were.”

The thing is, her position hasn’t changed. The comment goes straight to your head and your cock throbs, already overly sensitive, along Jennie’s warm, snug walls.

Naturally, she feels it, letting out a surprised moan that has her burying her face back into your neck.

“Sorry,” You breathe out, the only word you could properly form.

“You’re such a guy,” Jennie chuckles. “Immediately reacting to hearing anything related to your dick size.”

You apologize again, which she tells you it’s okay. Casually mentioning that you’re the biggest she’s ever had anyways. You lift her off you, hissing as your cock feels like it can breathe after suffocating inside Jennie.

“Ass,” Jennie says simply, rolling off you to perfectly slot her head on your shoulder.

Maybe it’s the hormones. Or maybe it’s the denial.

Reality soon sets in as you just had sex with your ex-girlfriend. You even had the nerve to play into your favorite dynamic.

“Jen-” Two fingers are on your lips.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” Jennie says quietly.

“But-” You try to say something, but the gentle press stops you.

“I know we have to talk, but I’m sore and exhausted,” Jennie sighs. The crack of twigs and leaves alerts your brain. “We’ll talk. We obviously have to, but later okay?” Rosie’s singing something off tune, and it’s louder than it was a few moments ago.

“Okay,” Is all you can say, as her fingers trail along your jawline. It’s an intimate move, turning your head the slightest to feel the gentle pressure of Jennie’s lips against yours.

You wake up alone in the tent, the sound of the girls laughing disrupts your sleep. You rub your eyes as soon as you walk out, the conversation falling quiet.

“Good morning, oppa,” Alice greets as you yawn.

You send a lazy wave, searching for a seat, which ironically was in between Jennie and Lisa. You notice Jennie’s wearing one of the sweaters you packed. You also notice how it’s zipped to the top, completely covering her neck.

“You missed out last night,” Rosie picks up where the conversation left off. “We were just telling Jennie how Lisa unintentionally walked away with Lia’s phone number.”

“I didn’t know she was into girls,” Lisa defends, shaking her head.

“It’s okay,” Jisoo pats her on the head. “The one time you don’t try to get a girl’s number, you do. Take it for what it is.”

It earns you a chuckle as Alice hands you a plate, a grateful smile sent her way as you realize how hungry you are.

“Well, at least I can take oppa with me,” Lisa shrugs.

“Uh what? I’m not going to be some third wheel,” You say after taking a bite.

“No, dumb dumb,” Rosie scoffs. “Ryujin. She was totally into you.”

From the corner of your eye, Jennie’s body tenses.

It goes unnoticed by the others, too engrossed with the conversation, but you’ve always been acutely aware of how Jennie feels. She acts cold and distant with most people, but it’s all part of a façade. It especially breaks down when it involves you. Everyone knew when she was upset with you because she wore it on her face.

“Oh well-”

“You seemed pretty interested,” Alice comments behind her mug.

“I was just being nice,” You weren’t interested to an extent. Under different circumstances, the probability of something happening was high. You cared more about how Jennie, and that paid off.

“You’re always being nice,” Lisa raises her hands, both sets of index and middle fingers bending flexing twice.

Jennie’s standing again, which you don’t understand why this woman can’t just sit still. You sense her irritation rolling in your direction. You internally sigh as her attitude, this early in the morning, was more a nuisance than anything.

You don’t say anything when Jennie tells the group that she’s going to take a shower at the community center. For what it’s worth, it’s like a spa with private baths and showers the size of your tiny one-bedroom apartment. She hardly glances your way, but there’s something in your gut telling you to go with her.

After you finish eating, of course.

Your head snaps back, groaning as it hits the bathroom tile. You watch how Jennie’s eyes never leave yours and it’s taking everything in you not to cum right then and there.

Her mouth is dangerous and she knows it.

“Daddy,” Jennie sucks in a breath, keeping her hand wrapped tightly around your cock. “I have a question for you.”

Her innocent expression pales in comparison to what her hand’s actually doing. She languidly strokes your cock. Too lost in the sensation that you almost don’t hear her question.

“What?” You ask.

“Are you going to go on a date with Ryujin?” Jennie asks, leaning ever so slight to run her tongue along your length.

It clicks why Jennie suddenly appeared in your private shower. There’s a somewhat strict policy about men and women showers, but when you heard a knock on your door, you weren’t expecting her to be on the other side.

Jennie didn’t answer why she was there when you asked, but her dropping to her knees as soon as you shut the door, it was obvious she had a plan in mind.

“Staking your claim on me already?” You quip, hand cupping her face. It’s not the smartest move to taunt her, especially with her hand wrapped around you.

Jennie clicks her tongue, rolling her eyes, “Like there’s anything to claim.”

“And if I do?” You trail your finger along her jawline, watching her eyes narrow in the process. “What’re you going to do about it?”

The thing with Jennie, that she’ll deny to you and swear up and down to anyone else, is that she gets jealous. You learned that very quickly when you started dating. She wouldn’t say anything if a girl spoke to you, but afterwards when you were alone, she’d remind you that you were hers.

She’s naturally possessive of you, and you reaped the benefits in some sick power play she’d try to carry out.

“You won’t,” Jennie’s mouth wraps around your cock, her tongue doing things that need to be studied because it feels too good.

“Why is that princess?” You ask as she takes you in deeper.

Instead of answering, Jennie goes lower, your tip hitting the back of her throat. She fucking swallows around your cock and it has your muscles tensing. You have to make sure you don’t go too far, as much as you want to, because it’s still been a while. She repeats the movement, letting off the slightest before taking more of you in. She keeps her mouth tight around your girth, hollowing out her cheeks that has you feel lightheaded.

“I bet Ryujin could take all of me,” You goad, watching as her pace increases, fucking your cock down her throat. “She could be my princess next.”

It’s a dirty move, but an empty threat. Jennie knows at her core that only she’s deemed worthy of that name.

But it has the best results as she takes all of you. Her lips press against your pubic bone, staring up at you and it’s a beautiful sight to see your ex-girlfriend’s face stuffed with your cock.

Jennie holds it for what feels like a lifetime before slowly bobbing her head up. “Don’t be a fucking ass.”

“Then prove me wrong.”

(She does, exploding on her face a minute later.)

“You two are being weird,” Rosie comments as you grill the meat.

“What?” You ask distractedly to make sure the bulgogi doesn’t burn unevenly.

“You and Jennie.”

“What are you talking about?” You set the tongs down after flipping the pieces.

“I can’t put my finger on it yet, but there’s something different about you two.”

You don’t respond, feigning being busy by unwrapping the other meats.

Sure, you had sex last night. And sure, Jennie made a mess of you in the showers, but you couldn’t exactly tell your friends that. Their reaction is something you’re not prepared for yet.

“But you two aren’t fighting right? I know that you were already reluctant about this whole trip, and the sleeping arrangements were a bust, but it isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, right?”

Definitely not is what you want to say, but you know Rosie wouldn’t let you get away with saying that.

“No, not fighting. We’re making it work,” You answer vaguely.

It is the last night of the trip, which thankfully the group decided on having a calmer night since you have to trek back to the city in the morning.

“Good,” Rosie nods approvingly. “Hopefully everything will still be okay when we get back.”

You have a nice buzz going as you settle in your sleeping bag. Jennie slips herself next to you, slotting a leg over yours before curling into your side. You smell the alcohol from her breath as she sighs contentedly.

She’s a bit drunk compared to you, thanks to Lisa offering shots with dinner. She practically sat on your lap in front of everyone that it surprised you, but the others even more. Rosie gave you a pointed look, realizing that something did happen between you two, but thankfully doesn’t comment.

“I want you,” Jennie murmurs against your neck, breathing warm air against your skin. It sends a shiver down your spine, but you know now is not the time. She drives a hard bargain to not take her right then and there when she says, “I’m so wet for you. Having you cum all over me earlier left me wanting more.”

“Princess not now,” You gulp, cock stirring at the words. “There’s people here.”

“So? You don’t want them to hear how well you fuck me?” Jennie’s hand sneaks over your crotch, palming you gently. “They always wanted to know, but I wouldn’t say. I didn’t want them to know the things you’d do to me.”

Your cock rises at the thought. She smiles against your neck, slipping a hand underneath your sweats as the contrast of her cold hand against your throbbing length has you suck in a breath.

“Remember how I’d beg, offering my body to you to do whatever you want?” She whispers seductively. “I’d do it again. You know how much I love the stretch of you taking what’s yours. You know how much I love when you cum in me, on me, making a fucking mess of me.”

You clear your throat, trying to keep some semblance of control. You feel lightheaded at the thought of doing all those things to her. “Jen, you’re drunk.”

“So?” Jennie’s hand wraps around you, slowly stroking your cock. “Drunk or sober. It’s never stopped us before. Drunk sex was especially good. Remember when you fucked me in the ass? The only person to ever do that. I was fucking ruined after.”

“Jesus fuck,” You grit out as her grip gets tighter. That night was fun. She let you have her however you wanted, and you’ve always had a thing for her sweet bottom. Those little cheeks made beautiful sounds as you pounded away. “Behave.”

“Fine,” Jennie huffs, pulling her hand away. She places her hand on your chest, curling into you more.

“I’ll make it up to you when we get back,” You offer, kissing her forehead.

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

One you very much intend to keep.

Jennie squirms in your hold, hips shaking, pussy quivering along your cock as you steady her.

“Daddy come on,” She moans out, head falling on your sheets as she tries to get you to move. “You promised you’d make it up to me.”

You did. You will. Just not right now. You’re just taking in the moment of her wrapped oh so tightly around you that you want to enjoy it before you absolutely ruin her.

Jennie was over your place an hour after you dropped off the siblings. Rosie grilled you on what the hell happened, but you remained strong and did not say a word. She wouldn’t drop it, which annoyed you, but you knew you wouldn’t say anything unless you spoke with Jennie first.

And you were actually able to have a somewhat productive conversation about what you were doing. She didn’t want to be made a fool again, which you swore nothing like would happen. You’re both older, more settled into your careers, that this—whatever this was—was more stable. She saw how much the break-up affected you, but ego got in the way to want to reconcile. You understood, the thought of her walking in with someone that wasn’t you, would’ve scarred you for life.

“I’m not going to make it easy for you,” Jennie said, standing over you, pulling you up.

“I don’t expect anything less,” You whispered, a quiet promise made to whatever higher being there was that you were absolutely not going to fuck this up.

“Good,” And she dragged you towards your room.

Jennie’s getting antsy, but the sight of your cock in between her legs is one you could never tire of. You wish your phone was nearby, capturing this to save for later.

But you’ll do that later.

“Daddy,” Jennie huffs, arching her back to get you deeper, but you press your body weight into her, keeping your cock snug within her walls. “You promised.”

“I know princess,” You trail a hand down her spine, watching her body shiver from the contact. “You just look so good,” Her pussy tightens.

“I’ll look better once you move,” Jennie gasps as you roll your hips. “Do you want me to beg? I will if that’s what’ll get you to fuck—”

You don’t let her finish her sentence, thrusting your hips deeper that her body jolts at the sudden movement. You lean forward, just enough to kiss the top of her head, hair pressed against your lips as you murmur, “Oh princess, you’ll be begging me to stop.”

You stand up straight, slowly pulling your hips back, and watch, entranced, as your cock slides out. It’s slick from Jennie, and you’ve never seen anything hotter. You let out a sigh as you feel her contract around the tip. She moans and something snaps inside you that you suddenly thrust back in.

Jennie squeals at the pressure, letting out a filthy moan that has you groaning. Your body moves on its own accord, slowly pumping your cock in and out of her pussy that has you seeing stars.

“You’re so fucking big,” Jennie moans, pants, as she starts to babble nonsense as her walls accommodate to your girth. “I need it daddy. I’ve been so fucking wet.”

Her walls rhythmically squeeze every time you bottom out. It doesn’t stop you. It makes you chase the feeling, an addiction that you wouldn’t mind having.

You lose yourself in her body, watching her bite her lip and lose her breath as she grabs onto the sheets. Hearing your name fall from her lips wakes something up in you.The sounds she makes drive you to thrust into her, and when you hit a certain spot inside, she demands you don’t stop. You don’t break rhythm as she squirms. You grab her hips, letting out groans of your own as you feel your orgasm coming.

Her hands grip the sheet, wrinkling the fabric as your pace quickens, hitting every single nerve inside her has your body on fire. She lets you fuck her at whatever pace you want. Slow then fast then grind before it has her hips meeting yours perfectly in sync.

“Fucking hell, princess,” You groan, ceasing your movement as you watch Jennie’s hips roll and grind on your cock, finding every which angle to take you. “You’re being so fucking good. Are you trying to make me cum?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jennie chants like a prayer, turning her head so her cheek rests against the fabric. “I want it. Cum in me daddy, breed me like the good girl I am.”

You’re close to the point of no return, especially with the way her pussy contracts at every thrust. She’s doing everything to suck you in and it’s working. You plant your foot on the edge of your bed, increasing your tempo tenfold as the sound of skin hitting gets louder. You’re fucking into her, nailing her onto your bed as her knees slide, opening her up as you jack hammer through her walls.

“Oh shit, baby,” The nickname falls from her lips, “Baby, I’m going to fucking cum.”

It was a short warning because after three thrusts, Jennie’s body tenses, back wildly arching as her pussy tightens, knocking the wind out of you. Your body falls on top of hers, hips erratically snapping before you meet your end.

Jennie growls, pushing her hips up into yours to take everything you have to offer. She does a nasty move by humping back onto your cock, short small thrusts that have you pushing your cum deeper inside her pussy.

“More, daddy,” She keeps moving, hips never ceasing. Her words of I want you to ruin me keeps you hard.

With a sudden burst of energy, you push yourself up, pulling out of her. You ignore the small whine she lets out, flipping her body over. She’s almost too responsive with your touch by the way she spreads her legs wide, knees falling open.

You grab your cock, aiming your tip at her opening before flicking the head on top of her clit. She mewls, eyes rolling back. You can’t wait anymore. In one swift movement, your cock enters her without warning. Her eyes shoot back to yours, letting out a scream as you pound into her.

Your hands perch on her knees, holding her open as her tits bounce with every thrust. One hand sneaks in between, rapidly rubbing her clit that her eyes shoot open wide.

“Baby,” Her voice comes out hoarse. “I-It’s too much.”

Jennie’s all fucked out, hands gripping your forearms as her legs flail out. You’re hardly paying her any attention, too focused on your cock splitting her open.

“Your pussy’s too good,” You don’t care how crass it sounds. Your thoughts are wild right now, and you can’t help but say all of them out loud. “I can’t get enough. How the hell did you keep this from me? I missed this.”

“I missed you,” Jennie says affectionately, scratching lightly.

“God, keep squeezing me like that princess,” You’re thrusting wildly, applying more pressure on her clit as you rub.

Her orgasm catches both of you off guard, her eyes widening as she screams, her walls forcing you out before a sudden gush of liquid sprays your cock. You react fast, forcing your way through your walls as the hot, tight feeling has you hitting your peak again.

You’re greedy though so once you start to release, you pull out, quickly jerking your shaft as ropes of cum shoot out. You aim for her quivering pussy, before painting her stomach. White droplets spraying over her skin has you easing your cock back inside for a moment. Her walls milk whatever’s left before you collapse next to her.

You’re trying to catch your breath that you don’t even feel her move, but your cock’s suddenly enveloped by something warm and wet that your head snaps back. Your hand easily threads through her hair, guiding her gently as she licks around and over your cock.

“Princess,” You pant, the stimulation being too much even for you. “What’re you doing?”

“Cleaning up the mess on daddy’s cock,” Jennie answers simply, tongue lapping your tip.

Once Jennie’s satisfied, she pecks the top of your cock, humming to herself before kissing your stomach. She crawls above you, swinging a leg over your body before resting her head in the crook of your neck.

“I’m still horny,” Jennie whines, kissing underneath your jaw.

“Jennie,” You sigh, bone dead as your thumb gently rubs her inner thigh.

“This is your fault, you know,” Jennie says out of the blue.

“What did I do?”

“If you didn’t know how to fuck me, I wouldn’t be in this position,” Jennie mumbles shyly.

“Well, I’m sorry?” You offer, even though you’re not.

“Whatever,” Jennie huffs as your eyes close. “I’m still not going out with you.”

“I haven’t even asked yet.”

“You’re going to, and my answer will be no,” Jennie states matter-of-factly.

You roll your eyes, chuckling, “I’m sure it will be, but I could probably get a yes sooner if I withhold sex—ow!”

Jennie pinches you.

“Don’t you dare.”

“You’re so demanding.”

“Yeah, well,” Jennie pushes herself up, face in front of yours, “You’ll have no choice but to deal with it.”

Deal.

(kinda left it at where there could be a prequel and/or sequel, but meh, we'll see.

serious thanks to everyone who read and enjoyed my previous stories. i'll see ya in the next one, whenever that may be.)

#blackpink smut #blackpink jennie #blackpink kim jennie #blackpink jennie kim #jennie smut #kim jennie smut #kim jennie

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astrophileous · 7 months

Note

Also the thought of Derek holding up readers bump once she’s farther along? The Tik Tok couples who do it and the immediate relief on their partners face is so sweet 😭🖤

wait omg this is actually a rlly cute concept. I'd like to imagine that it was JJ who shared this trick with him and he couldn't wait to test it out as soon as he found out about it askkjdsk

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek looked up from the plate of chicken in front of him at the sound of your whimper. It was quiet, but it was the fifth one Derek had heard since you sat down for dinner. You were quick to school your expression after that, smiling at him as if nothing was wrong.

As the clock ticked nearer towards your due date, Derek noticed that your stamina was rapidly decreasing as well. He would hear muffled groans and tiny moans slipping past your lips several times throughout the day, but as soon as he went to ask you what's wrong, you'd put on your perfectly crafted smile and wave him off. Derek made sure to soothe your ache and fatigue in any way you allowed him--feet massages before bed were becoming a routine that he was looking forward to do every single night--but Derek kept thinking that there must be something more he could do.

"Are you finished?" Derek asked as he began stacking all of the dirty dishes together.

"I can do the dishes," you offered.

"Nice try, Bug." Derek made a swift work to grab your empty plate, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead in the process. "I got this. You go rest somewhere, 'aight?"

"That's all I seem to be doing these days," you grumbled. "Resting."

"As you should be."

Once the dishwasher was loaded and started, Derek checked to see if the message he had sent promptly before dinner had been answered. He smiled when he saw the respond that the other person had sent. Exiting the kitchen, Derek put himself in an urgent mission to find you.

"Bug? Sweetheart?"

"In here!"

He followed your voice all the way to the laundry room. "I thought I told you to rest."

"You did."

Derek raised an eyebrow at your answer.

You continued to sort through the laundry as you glanced up at his face. "Do you need something?"

"Yes, actually." Derek moved closer until your whole body was caged between him and the washer. "I wanted to try something."

"Try what?"

He kissed your shoulder. "Do you trust me?"

"Should I?"

He chuckled. "You should."

Derek's hands sneaked around you then, from your waist and all the way to the underside of your belly. He told you to take a deep breath, which you obliged, before he slowly and carefully lifted your bump.

"Oh."

You were practically melting in Derek's arms, with the tension gone in your shoulders and the stiffness dissolved from your back. He watched with a fond smile as a relieved sigh fell from your lips.

"Does that feel good?" Derek asked.

"Very."

Derek laughed at the blissful expression that had taken over your face.

"Where did you even learn about this?"

"I consulted an expert." When your curious eyes searched his, Derek simply said, "JJ."

"Hm. That makes sense."

"I'm gonna let go now, okay?"

As careful as he had been when he lifted your bump, Derek slid his hands out from underneath your belly, kissing your temple when they finally secured themselves on your hips.

"That was amazing. Thank you." You turned around in his arms before wrapping your own around his neck. "You do know that you're obligated to do this for me at least once a day from now on, right?"

Derek's responding grin couldn't be any bigger. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

#derek morgan #criminal minds #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fluff #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #shemar moore #love bugs

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hanibalistic · 6 months

Text

DRUNKEN WITH A SENSE OF LOVE | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | romance / drunken confessions / fake dating au

synopsis | you and hyunjin got drunk at different times, and you two took care of each other similarly.

word count | 7.1k+

warning | mentions of insecurity / brief allusion to sexual themes / alcohol and drunkenness

note | i changed almost everything about this.

Hyunjin has gotten himself etched to the back of your mind, and you genuinely did not like that.

You didn't blame him, though. If anything, you blame yourself for falling so head over heels for him.

For one, Hyunjin couldn’t help who falls in love with him. He couldn’t suppress his overwhelmingly good looks if he tried, which he never did. He enjoyed the positive attention, however shallow they often were. He also couldn’t put a pause on his decent personality, which came as a genuine surprise to you after you got to know him better through this fake dating scheme. You always thought beautiful people harbored the ugliest heart, out of envy and bitterness. Hyunjin wasn’t like that. You didn’t think he was, at least.

For two, you should have known better than to fall in love with a man leagues above your selection pool. People called it self-degradation, a lack of self-esteem, having no self-worth, and whatnot. You considered it a down-to-earth trait, a reality check, understanding your limits, and whatnot. Hyunjin was a boy you should fall in love with in moderation but never utterly, ardently, absolutely. You were, unfortunately, the latter.

For three, and this was the stupidest part, you two were temporarily dating. Hyunjin was honest when he approached you and said that his friends, at the ripe age of twenties and pursuing higher education, thought you were good enough to be the butt of a romantic joke. They had challenged him to chase you, get you into a relationship, and break your heart. It was a heinous and, frankly, childish game, but you agreed to it with him for the prize money.

It was worth it at that time. It was easy money! Who wouldn’t want that? You didn’t feel that way now. Pretending to be in a loving relationship with him has short-term perks but long-term losses.

Hyunjin was practically in you, etched to the back of your mind, tattooed on the inside of your skin, taken by your bloodied hands to the bottom of your grave. The degree to which your heart dropped for him was unexplainable by yourself. Therefore, having the excuse to go on dates and hold his hands in public, snuggle with him during outings with his friends, and maintain a pleasant friendship with him behind closed doors were great experiences. But when the time comes for separation, you will hurt, not merely over the breakup, but the reminder that he has never felt more for you, that your wonderful experience with him was just an experience.

Clumsy stumbling could be heard outside his apartment, and not a second later came a round of demanding knocks. Hyunjin's head perked up at the noise, his eyes wide in alert at the sudden banging. He looked at the door momentarily before finally looking over to the clock, his brows furrowing slightly at the late time. He waited to check if it could be a drunken stranger approaching the wrong door, but soon enough, another round of aggressive knocks sounded.

Holding the thought that it could just be his roommate, Han Jisung, coming back home late for yet another odd reason, and also praying inwardly that he wouldn't have to spend the night taking care of a loud, obnoxious, and very drunk Jisung, he made his way up and approached the door.

Flinging the door open, Hyunjin did a double-take before his annoyed expression morphed into one of surprise. His arm went slack against the wooden frame of the door, and he took an instinctive step forward when he saw your drunken state—your features were scrunched up in discomfort, your eyes squinted because astigmatism had taken over on your walk to the apartment building, and you were hunched over. You were not at all the way you used to look, not the way he was used to seeing you, which was always so presentable and well put together.

An amused smile appeared on his face as he eyed you up and down, wanting nothing more than to make fun of and tease you even without your ability to form the perfect retorts he has grown to be highly fond of. But you sniffed for a moment and took a step forward. In that exact second, you had Hyunjin doubling over to catch you before you could fall to the floor, concern lining up the crinkles of his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Woah, alright! Let’s stand slowly, okay?" he commanded gently, cooing at your side as if talking to a child.

His arms curled around your shoulder and waist with a protective grip, and he hoisted your weight by supporting you with his own. Pulling you into the apartment, he shut the door slowly with his feet before returning his attention to you, hoping to bring you to the couch where you could lie down and rest.

“Jeez, babe, how much did you drink?” he laughed, dragging your unresponsive body along with him.

You groaned lowly, trying your best to hold down the acidic taste rushing at the back of your mouth. You wouldn’t know it, but this was not what you had planned for the night. Your friends did their job sending you home safely. Who would have thought you’d leave your apartment shortly after just to stumble to Hyunjin’s home? It was a short distance from your place, but what a miracle you made it without any major accidents! And what a disaster you made it to his home while being high on alcoholic honesty!

You snapped your head up. You were at the perfect angle to stare at his side profile, allowing you the premium shot of his perfect jawline, luscious locks, beautiful lashes, button tip of his nose, and just the most kissable lips you have ever seen. A grimace reached your face. It was an instinctive response. His good looks indeed couldn’t hide even behind the blurriest of eyes. You thought if you lied to your body enough, your mind would follow, so you grimaced whenever you looked at him, hoping to start disliking him. It hasn’t worked.

"Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “Yes. That is me."

You gulped, still staring at him. Then, as you lowered your eyes to the floor, you leisurely suggested what’s been on your mind recently, “We should break up."

Of all the things you have done within these few months of him meeting you, including you agreeing to help him lie to his friends about this fake dating challenge to punching someone in the face for shaming his impulsive sex life, which you weren’t surprised he has, this one caught him off guard the most. This one also made him panic. It was fear, like sweaty hands and dry lips, like his mind racing with terrible thoughts, racing with made-up reasons as to why you would want that, racing with every single action he has done that could be counted as a mistake.

"Wh–what? Why do you–why? Why are we breaking up? We are fine. I didn't do anything–did I do something?" Hyunjin stuttered, unconsciously tightening his grip on your body before he let out a gentle but firm whisper, "No."

“I know, I am sorry. I don’t know–I’m just sorry,” you slurred, long stopped looking at him and instead was now leaning your entire weight against him like a wall. Your hands waved about in the air. "You are mad at me, aren't you? Of course–“ you snorted obnoxiously–“it’s a lot of money! I’ll pay you. Break up with me, don’t be mad.”

Hyunjin stared at you as you laughed manically. It sounded choked up, like you’ve got wet coughs prepared in your throat, but he could tell you were far from shedding tears, unlike good ol’ sensitive him, who remained in a state of anxiety and was still trying to process why you brought up separation. It wasn’t time for the fake dating to end. It was nowhere near it! To suggest breaking up so early must mean something was wrong with him, but what was? He couldn’t tell! To think he was just losing his mind over what to do once it was time for this fake relationship to end.

“Hyunjin,” you called him once when you noticed his silence. Looking up at him, you furrowed your brows and reached up to brush his face clumsily with your hand, pushing your fingertips against his skull. “Hyunjin? Hey. Answer me. Hey. Hello. Hyunjin!”

He leaned away from your aggressive touch, his shoulders relaxing at your playful antics. A smile formed uncontrollably on his lips when you doubled down on smearing your hands all over his face after his dodges. He was left haplessly struggling between missing your direct eyeball pokes and keeping you from falling to the ground. You grinned out loud; he mirrored it, and he didn’t hear the sound of your laughs mixing together because he hears it all the time.

“You are very drunk, [Name],” he managed to comment after grabbing both of your hands and keeping them at his face level. His tight-lipped smile sparkled when you attempted a struggle, like a parent reprimanding their child, then he moved your hands to your face and squeezed your cheeks together. Your lip jutted out in response. He leaned in to kiss your cupid’s bow. “You’re being silly. Let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed.”

The frown on your face made him nervous. His hands slowly slipped from your face, and your hands fell to your sides. You remained silent, and he let the clogs in your brain move. Your thoughts weren’t clear. The only thing you were sure of was that the man standing before you was Hwang Hyunjin, your temporary boyfriend, and you’d spent the whole night trying to drink your feelings for him away. You came to his apartment for a reason—you needed to break up with him for your own good.

“No, I can’t go to bed yet. I have something to do.” You yawned and waved an arm dismissively. You spoke before you finished yawning, leaving your words hanging in the air in slow motion. “I came to tell you something.”

Hyunjin’s hands curled into fists. He let go, tightened them, and let go again to alleviate the sweat gathering at his palms. You were surprisingly hell-bent on the topic, which led him to believe it went beyond a moment of drunkenness. It must have been a conclusion formed long ago, and you have just now mustered the courage to let him know. But why? What did he do? What did he not do?

He was more than nervous, if there was a word to describe the state of his heart. This was more than a personal problem, which he admittedly still has to work through, but far more significant than himself was you—his feelings for you, his immense affection for you, the fact that he loved you the way you warned yourself not to love him but did anyway. It wasn’t your fault. Your observant eyes, your sincerity, your care for him. It wasn’t your fault. He fell in love with you of his own accord.

If you left him, he would be like a dog without a leash, a dog without an owner. He would wander aimlessly, filled with rage and dread, sniffing every darkened corner for a whiff of your scent.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked meekly.

You sucked in a deep breath to counter your congested chest, then you shook your head in agreement. “Yes.”

You were very drunk. He shouldn’t take your words into consideration. “That’s fine,” he said as he stepped toward you, “can we get cleaned up and go to bed anyway? It’s very late.”

“No, I don’t want you touching me anymore.” You stepped back dramatically and hugged yourself into a protective stance. “It’s for the better.”

He wondered what that meant. Were you repulsed by him? Did you finally realize how disgusting his inability to stay away from sexual and romantic validation was? Were you ashamed to be associated with him because of his impulsive behavior? He was only good for a short time; did you come to that realization? You were too good for him. He always knew that.

Hyunjin retreated his hand from mid-air. His hands met before his abdomen, his fingers immediately picking at each other as he uncomfortably shifted his weight. The corner of his lips arched downward at your rejection, but he tried to keep them neutral so he wouldn’t be influenced into crying. There wasn’t much else he could do with himself if being near you was no longer an option. He looked lost and wronged; he felt so.

“[Name], did I do something?” he asked, rubbing his elbow awkwardly. “Why do you suddenly want to break up with me?”

You blinked at a random space on the wall. Sitting below your sight was a messy square table with unwashed cups, scattered papers, and a closed laptop. Even in a state of haze, you knew they didn’t belong to him. Hyunjin was more organized than that. He told you once it made his school experience much easier to have everything in one place: his computer, which you knew he often kept in his school bag. You sniffed; you knew him like the back of your hand.

“I can’t tell you,” you replied slowly, not looking at him. “It’s a secret.”

Hyunjin tilted his head. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He sounded convincing, so you gradually moved your eyes to access him. Standing in front of you, timid as a mouse, was Hwang Hyunjin. You knew that, and you knew that your secret was to be kept from him. Yet, somehow, all that did not register once you were engaged in a conversation with him. He was Hyunjin, just a person you were talking to. If he promised not to tell, then it should be fine.

“You promise?” you asked.

Hyunjin nodded. “I promise.”

You pouted with a glare, willing him to waver and show any sign of deception, but he stood his ground and waited for you to expose your deepest and darkest feelings to him. A faint grumble sounded from your mouth. You looked around briefly to check for any eavesdroppers before you walked a few tentative steps toward him, and you confessed, “I’m in love with you.”

It was like a shot through the heart, and the shot was aimed so successfully that the organ tore off its hinges and fell to his abdomen where his hands fiddled nervously with each other. It may be asking for an exit out of his body, it may be seeking its new owner, or it may come knocking boldly at your mouth and ask to fit inside you. Hyunjin remained perplexed at your confession. The confession had a bitter taste; he wasn’t sure what to make of it or if he deserved it from someone like you.

“[Name]…”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I am very in love with you. It’s stupid.”

He couldn’t tell, but you understood, despite a fogged mind, that letting him know your affection for him was a cause for your demise. Your emotions were in a whirlwind, collecting up the fragments of all the heart pieces you've broken because of Hyunjin and how you had confronted yourself multiple times with your own delusions that this wouldn't be like the movies. He would never fall in love with you just because you two got closer from months of fake dating.

Even then, he was empathetic to your body language, especially how much they mirrored his. His shoulders slumped at how you turned away from him to trail your attention off somewhere safer, where he wasn’t in your sight. Registering his beautiful face was hard for you because you couldn’t have him; processing his existence and your proximity to him was difficult because you could never have him. You turned away from him to further signify to yourself the assumed truth, your trembling fingers pulling at each other to avoid an awkward standstill.

Hyunjin was etched to the back of your brain. He was overwhelming, and he was far away. Unable to contain the sudden reminder that you were never going to get over him, a rush of tears started to tremble their way up to your eyes. Your face scrunched without remorse, and your head dropped near your shoulders alarmingly quickly that it startled him.

“I love you, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. It made him panic. “Please break up with me.”

“Why are we breaking up if you love me, silly?” he forced a laugh once he approached you.

His lanky arms were clumsy and gentle after he pulled at his sweater sleeves to wipe your tears. They hovered awkwardly over your face, gauging how much strength to use to effectively dry your eyes but not push you any further away from him. He cooed a bunch of nonsense, but they were sweet like sleepy kisses on your hands. Eventually, he cupped your face and wiped your eyes with his thumbs. You let him; he made you laugh when he apologized for using too much force, even though he never did.

“You don’t love me, Hyunjin,” you muttered.

“Nonsense,” he retorted within a second, “who said that?”

You didn’t reply, so he stood with his arms raised for a whole minute while you leaned the weight of your head against his palms. He thought it terribly horrific that he ought to remember the shape of your face with his slender fingers because of his inability to sew his skin into yours. If his hands were like superglue, he could be attached to you forever—your face, your features, you, his most favorite thing in the world. His hands would burn, but what of it? Better you scorch him than to never be touched by you at all.

“Hyunjin,” you called when you were finished zoning out.

“Mhm?”

“I love you. I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m so ugly.”

Growing up being valued for his beautiful features taught him to devalue it. He didn’t care for it. He wouldn't cry about it if he were to earn a permanent scar across his face. Yet, even then, if he were to have one, he was sure people would rave about how the scar ruined his face rather than talk about how he obtained it. Except for you. You’d ask about it, like you always asked everything about him.

The kind of person you were, his most favorite person in the world—you were detailed like that, and you made him feel an essence of humanity others didn’t. With you, he wasn’t ethereal, he wasn’t a God, he wasn’t an angel fallen to Earth. He didn’t have to be because you never put him on some miraculous pedestal. He was just Hwang Hyunjin; his favorite food is his mother’s cooking, he makes clumsy mistakes and looks funny when he does, and he enjoys making art.

Not a model, not God’s favorite, not pretty. Just a boy, and he’s in love with you.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m ugly too.”

He didn’t deny your false claims; you were the prettiest he had ever known, but only he needed to know that. When there comes a time for him to praise and worship your physical body, he will. For now, there wasn’t anything much he wanted to say in return. Just that he was the same as you.

Your souls didn’t collide that way, obviously. You two were completely different people with varying hobbies and friend groups. However, Hyunjin was willing to chase you like Hell to meet where you were. There wasn’t anything he wanted to be if he couldn’t be it with you. Whatever you are, he is.

There was another long pause. Hyunjin patiently waited, tender eyes concentrated on each crevice of your face as he stroked your stained cheeks with his thumb. You didn’t say anything more, only slapping your hands over his and pulling them from your face. He thought you were moving away, but you took a step forward instead and dove into his arms. You hugged him around his neck, hanging off him like a sloth. He chuckled, swaying you side to side. You were tired, he knew.

“It’s getting late, baby,” he whispered, leaning back to watch your closed eyes and laughing. He ran a hand through your hair multiple times, getting a clearer view of your face. “Let’s clean up and go to bed, okay?”

You groaned and muttered in response. He didn’t hear what you said. He kept sweeping your hair back. Supporting you with his weight, you were heavy, but he didn’t mind. You wouldn’t be able to change your clothes by yourself, so he would help you. It’d be sloppy and slow, and he wouldn’t mind. You would take up most of the bed, sprawled out without a clue that you weren’t sleeping in your apartment. Your body heat would scratch up a fever in him, and he wouldn’t mind. He enjoyed taking care of you.

Staring at him as he stroked your hair, you pouted before uttering three familiar words, “I love you.”

Hyunjin smiled. Whatever you are, he is. He kissed your nose and your eyes. He told you he loves you too.

It was one of those nights when Hyunjin couldn’t spend time with you, and you were unreasonably disappointed about it.

You slouched atop the couch you got at a flea market, which Hyunjin had to convince you to get after repeatedly reassuring you that there wouldn’t be any actual fleas hiding in the creases. This uncomfortable position resulted from five hours of continuous mumbling about how you should not be upset that Hyunjin didn’t choose to spend the night with you, which he had done the past few weeks. He has been somewhat clingy lately, and you couldn’t imagine why. You thought your act was good. There was no way his friends doubted you.

This could be the calm before the storm. Even though you two had concocted a detailed timeline for your fake dating, you wouldn’t be surprised if Hyunjin abruptly cut it short. If that was true, his current sweetness was nothing more than a buildup to a dramatic and convincing breakup.

Pouting in dismay, you rolled up the bag of chips and reached for the tea table beside you, your fingertips wiggling to graze past the black binder clip you used to keep the plastic bag sealed. Amid your frustrated groaning, still refusing to get your ass off the couch even after more than ten seconds of struggling, the doorbell suddenly rang, and coming after that were loud bangs at your door.

A shiver ran down your spine as you snapped your head toward the direction of the noise, your brows rising abruptly at the fearful intrusion. Slowly throwing your chip bag on the table, you stood up and tip-toed your way over to the door where you pressed your hands to the wooden surface and carefully looked through the peephole.

A gasp caught in your throat when you saw Hyunjin’s face standing just a few inches away from the circle as if leaning against the door for support. You immediately moved out and unlocked your door, swinging it open to reveal him fully. Taking a good look at his face before he started to throw his little drunken tantrum—messy hair, concentrated brows, droopy eyelids, and a general look of discomfort—you concluded that he definitely has been downing more shots than he could handle.

“What happened to you?”

You stepped up to put your hands on either side of his arm, carefully bringing him into your apartment. He stumbled with most of his weight straining on your shoulder. There were so many stutters in his steps that you almost dragged him into a fall with you on your way to the couch. After setting him down, he snorted at the cushy feeling of your couch. It took him a while to process the new environment, and then he arched his neck to find you.

Hyunjin could barely make out your face. He couldn’t even be sure if he went to your apartment, but subconsciously, he could tell he was at your place. He felt it in your timid touches just now, and whatever scent he whiffed out of the air, it smelt like you. Licking his lower lip as his worries slowly faded away and his attention—as much as he could muster—returned, he mumbled a string of incoherent noises under his breath before he, much to your palpitating heart’s dismay, pulled you onto the couch next to him.

He got on top of you; his legs had to bend in weird ways to accommodate the small couch, and he placed his palms on either side of your head to trap you under him. You felt heat forming on your cheeks as you shrunk beneath his shadow, your eyes widening at the proximity. Hyunjin has never done this before. The closeness wasn’t new, but the position of it was. Being under him was an unbelievable feeling. He looked beautiful, and his toned muscles became more visible by supporting his own weight. How your thoughts were smeared! You doubted your body would forget how well he could cage you in.

Hyunjin stared at you with a low, drunken hum. Then, suddenly, he leaned down to meet your face.

“[Name],” he started, lowering his head tiredly to your shoulder, “you wanted to break up with me?”

You blinked up at the ceiling, confused, but you figured it could be the alcohol talking for him, so you chose to disregard all the questions that popped into your head. Holding out your arms to push against his chest, you attempted to sit up. “I don’t want to break up with you, Hyunjin.”

He seemed to be processing your answer as he allowed you to set him aside and give yourself more space. You sat quietly next to him, letting him have the time to think over what he wanted to say. The thoughtful pout on his face told you it was difficult for him to use his brain, but it looked cute enough that you almost took a picture to tease him about it once he got sober. You wondered if his response would be nonsense as well.

“Why do you want to break up with me?” he whispered, causing you to sigh. He hasn’t heard you, after all. His lips were pursed into a frown, and his eyes were squinted to show that he was very close to leaking a few tears down his cheeks, but you couldn’t read between the lines and realize what his despair meant. Hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he abruptly turned to you and sniffed. “You can’t do that to me. I won’t–I won’t let you do that to me.”

You tilted your head to the side, your brows constantly furrowed. Where was he getting this idea from? You tried to recall any off-handed comments you made. Still, they were primarily directed elsewhere and never at your fake relationship. You’ve never said anything bad about him, not to him, and never behind his back. There wasn’t anything outstandingly mean to say anyway, so what sprung this on?

Returning to reality, your head faintly shook as you looked up at Hyunjin to ask his drunken state about the reason behind this outburst. Your eyes widened instead when you saw he had taken his shirt off, the lump of fabric discarded on the floor carelessly. Heat blossomed at the base of your neck, and you felt your joints sour in panic; seriously, what sprung this on! This was a much bigger issue than drunkenness!

When you noticed his hands reaching to the belt of his jeans, you immediately lunged toward him and circled his wrists to stop his movements. Your panic became a surprised concern at his need to strip naked in your apartment. You doubted he wanted to show you his body. Even if he did, this wasn’t how you wanted to do it.

Moving his hands away, you urged, “No. We’re not doing that.”

“No, I have to! I have to!”

He snatched his hands away from yours and dove to unbuckle his belt again. His movements grew increasingly frustrated the more you blocked his attempt to remove his pants. You were annoying, but he wasn’t angry at you. He was scared. He wasn’t getting what he wanted, and he thought you might leave him if he didn’t show you what he could offer. It scared him that you didn’t want to see him whole, so eventually, he began to sob.

“I have to show you, [Name]. Please let me!” Hyunjin whined, hands tugging harshly at each other by his chest.

“You don’t have to show me anything,” you assured as you grabbed a few tissues from the tea table. You dabbled softly at his eyes. “Come on, let’s put your clothes back on.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks like knives against your skin. He felt uncomfortable at this unfamiliar sequence. Things usually go smoothly after he reveals himself. Nobody has ever refused to see him, so why did you? What about himself was so repulsive that you couldn’t take one look at his bare skin? Why didn’t you love him back?

“No.” he slurred, then paused to catch his breath.

The moment of calm was gone too soon. His hands reached up to ruffle his hair in a frenzy. His heart hammering against his chest, yet his brain wasn’t sane enough to understand what the sudden panic was about, just that it had something to do with you. That obliviousness, as a result, was making him even more agitated.

“You need to love me again!” he exclaimed, eyes brimming with unknown tears. “People love me when I take my clothes off. You need to love me again!”

A puff of air slowly made its way out of your half-parted lips. You could feel the stretching of your heartstrings. Hyunjin cried as he shrank into himself, his arms going around his cold body for a sense of comfort, and the sight toyed with your head by sending waves of deep anguish like mere laps of the ocean. The feeling deranged you—to realize Hyunjin experiences such a level of hopelessness and loneliness was heartbreaking. More importantly, you felt ignorant of his problems. You should have been a better friend, perhaps even a better lover.

“Hey,” you called out gently as you scooted toward him. You brought one hand up to his face to direct his eyes to you. You smiled softly when you found that he was opening his squinted eyes to stare back. “I’m going to get something, so wait here for me, okay?”

He sniffed, tasting the tears rolling down his mouth, and nodded. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, ever so gingerly placing a hand at the small of his back, hoping to calm him down, but it turned out Hyunjin had a thought of his own. After feeling the warmth of your hand, he took it as a sign that you wanted to hug him, so he obliged immediately by wrapping his arms around your torso and putting his head on your shoulder.

You breathed a small chuckle when he made weird noises after finding a space at the crook of your neck. The transition from him throwing a tantrum to having a mini panic attack to being the clingiest person you have ever met was amusing. As was the transition from your mind being filled with annoyance and confusion to having your feelings torn into shreds to breathing out a chuckle. It was entertaining, and the fact that Hyunjin could bring out so many different aspects of your emotions was undeniably endearing.

He was that kind of person. He has always been. More than beautiful, he was expressive, selfless, and tender-minded. Watching him allowed you to live an emotional life vicariously. All the things you ignored in the past because of mental stress were repainted in colors by his hands. The movie you never watched, the ice cream you never tried, the districts you never visited, and the fireworks show you never stayed for—everything meant something to Hyunjin, so everything meant something to you.

To him, love was a grave of sacrifices. Of his time, his space, his body, and his mind. He was willing to give, and he has given you all except one. You wouldn’t know any of it.

You moved to the back of the couch, cautiously pressing your back up against the edge. Hyunjin followed you, shifting his position so he lay stuffed against your chest with your arms around his shoulders. His fingers played with each other shyly on top of his bare chest as he looked around your apartment absentmindedly. He couldn’t register anything but the fabric of your clothes and how small you made him feel.

He finally looked at you after a moment. His cries had long ceased and left only trails of dry tears on his dearest cheeks. With his eyelashes still wet, glittering beautifully in the air, he blinked, his eyes widening after he found out you had been looking down at him. Suddenly, he grinned childishly with a hint of sun hidden in his smile. “What are you looking at?”

You hummed, finding Hyunjin utterly irresistible even with his tear-stained cheeks and slurred laughter. He was all messy and puzzling, but your heart pushed against itself to give him space to stay inside. “I’m looking at you, silly.”

“Oh, you’re looking at me.” He giggled, covering half his face with his hands and shutting his eyes shyly. He squirmed around in your arms, but not once did he move far enough to not feel you against him. When he was done, he returned back to the original position, and he peeked an eye through the gap between his fingers. He laughed. “ I am looking at you too.”

“I know you are,” you said, fingers threading through his feathery locks with serenity, and a smile so heartwarming that Hyunjin couldn’t help but focus his sight on it.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes shaky.

You pursed your lips together and shrugged. “I can’t tell you. It is a secret.”

Hyunjin’s gaze hardened naively, a gasp ripping through his throat as he leaned back against your hand. “Tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

“You promise?”

“I promise!” he exclaimed, sitting up slightly and bumping his forehead against your chin. He burst into a fit of giggles then, rubbing his forehead for a while before reaching the same hand out to touch your chin sloppily. “I’m sorry, I hit your face.”

“It's okay,” you said, your thumb soothing against the spot he had bumped into you. “But you promise me you can keep a secret? It’s very important!”

He nodded eagerly. “I promise!”

“Okay,” you said as you looked up at the sky, pretending to think. “The reason why I am looking at you is really simple. It is because I love you.”

You glanced back down at him to find him looking at you in astonishment. He licked his lower lip. His mind cleared a little for the first time, and he felt all of the universe that was your body pressed close to him. Beyond that, there were more minor things. Your heart beat faster than his, making him chase after you like a madman; the warmth of your skin equated to the warmth he manually cultivated in his bed by stacking multiple blankets together, an attempt to replicate your presence at night; your soft voice, going through his blurry ears, sounded like the subconscious voice he hears all the time. Maybe his subconscious was all just you.

Those were all fragments of proof of how much he loved you. To think you returned his feelings—he didn’t know what to think.

“Really?” He sounded so surprised. It was almost heartbreaking.

“Yes,” you nodded, “even when we both have clothes on.”

He looked down and touched your shirt. “Oh, you are wearing a shirt.”

“Yes, I am.”

He gazed at it briefly before, with an invisible shrug, leaned his cheek against your chest. “You’re warm. I like it.”

You smiled, feeling like your lips were about to extend out of your cheeks to become wider. “You’re cold because you took your shirt off!”

He scoffed and said nothing. Hyunjin was unguarded and half-stripped before you, chastely snuggling up against your chest while slurred words spilled out of his mouth like a mantra. You didn’t try to understand him; he wasn’t looking to have a conversation. You just wanted to lay together without a thought or a worry. Occasionally, he would sit up just to look at your face, then hum and lay back down, continuing to rot.

It was such a wondrous thing.

“Do you want to wash up and go to bed?” you asked. “Are you tired?”

“No. I want to stay here. I like it here.”

Hyunjin let out a dreamy sigh. He threw his head back with a smile, his hair hitting your jaw and sprawled over the crook of your neck. He tilted his head then, letting it fall along your shoulder. His eyes were closed with bliss, and he laughed to himself. When he opened his eyes, there was only the shadow of your side profile, which was good for him. He wanted to kiss the skin, filled with close-up bumps and blemishes. It was a side profile he’ll know for the rest of his life, and he’ll whisper ‘I love you’ to a million times.

“I have a secret to tell you,” he mentioned.

You raised a brow, intrigued, and urged him to continue, “What is it?”

He bit his lower lip and scurried off your body. You sat up straighter then, watching as he stumbled over to the front door for the bag he discarded on the ground. He crouched to pull a small notebook out easily before returning to you. He stopped by the couch, his eyes concentrated as he stared at the notebook's cover. Then, without another word, he dropped back onto your body and made you wrap your arms around him like before.

“I draw you all the time. In my sketchbook.”

He grinned out loud in the same way you would grin at him. His fingers played with the blank pages before, finally, he arrived at one filled with traces of his pencil. You gasped. He wasn’t spilling nonsense. The page was filled with beautiful sketches of your face, and so was the next one and the next. He kept flipping his notebook, and everywhere you could find pieces of yourself dotted out sincerely by his hand.

They didn’t look to come from memories, but they were definitely from moments not even you could remember. But Hyunjin remembered everything because he detailed it all in the lines. His inability to not consume all of you tied his hands together and made you his ultimate muse. Almost unconsciously, for a while, the only thing he knew to draw was you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t know how else to pour you out of his mind.

It was overwhelming, and you could see that. He was showing you all his blood work: mornings spent missing you with the tip of a crooked pencil, afternoons spent recalling your features in his head, nights spent tracing your face with his lead-filled fingers under a desk lamp. If he could inhale these sketches of you into his bloodstream and poison himself with those images, leaving an organ tattoo of your presence, he would.

“I love this one,” he said, pointing at a full-body sketch of you. “I was waiting for you at the coffee shop, and you were walking towards me. I love it. I was so excited to see you. I memorized what you wore.”

This sketchbook stayed with him all the time; he felt like he was bringing you with him, like a kid refusing to let go of their blanket. You wouldn’t know anything about that. The beautiful boy in your arms admired you constantly, from the farthest corner of his soul to the tip of his button nose, and you wouldn’t know anything about it.

“I draw you all the time,” he added. “I will never forget what you look like, but I always want to remember.”

The implications of that didn’t fly over your head. His addition to telling you the truth disabled your ability to attribute the fact that he draws you in his free time to him being artistic. But more than being afraid of rejection, you feared a mutual connection. The only thing worse than you finding Hyunjin loveable was him finding that you were as well.

“Do you know why?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

You wavered. You hadn’t spoken since he showed you his sketches. “Why?”

Hyunjin stared at you. Within the drunken fog of his eyes, there was earnestness. “Because I love you too.”

You didn’t know what to say, and you wouldn’t. There was solace in choosing to believe that he didn’t mean it. When tomorrow arrives, and he returns sober, you wouldn’t speak of this conversation at all. When night comes tomorrow, and he’s had a full day of rest, Hyunjin would vividly recall how you took care of him and told him you loved him, and he would draw you again.

“Do you like them?”

His question snapped you out of your trance. Your sight blurred through a sudden quake before it focused on his face. Hyunjin pouted, his fingers tapping patiently at his notebook for your response. You softened with love and squeezed him in a hug, a smile blooming on your face.

“I’ve never liked anything more,” you complimented, “except for you!”

His legs kicked when you nuzzled your face to the back of his neck. His heart filled, like the sun could fill up a piece of land and the moon could fill up a river, and in return for his joy, he let out a boisterous laugh. He didn’t hear how it sounded with yours. Still, it was such a wondrous thing. Your love was such a wondrous thing.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz x y/n #skz x oc #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x oc #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x gender neutral reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you

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madelynraemunson · 1 month

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲) 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✨ — a steve harrington one shot fic

modern!sperm donor!steve x modern!pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: It’s hard to find ‘forever’ in a world that glorifies hook-up culture. After multiple failed relationships, you start to believe that your dream of having a family someday will only be just that — a DREAM. That is until you stumble across The Baby Gate Foundation, a family planning organization that helps qualifying Strangers start families with one another.

disclaimers — fluff overload, strangers to friends to lovers, some angst, reader goes by “Honey”,

NSFW — very brief smut, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, cream pie, soft!dom steve

word count — 6.0k words

“So… what’s your favorite color?”

It’s the most aggravating question to ask when wading in the Dating Pool — and unfortunately the most frequent. But you figure at least asking about Steve Harrington’s favorite color is a good ‘precursor question’ when trying to get to know him. After all, you are the one carrying his child.

“Cerulean,” the handsome stranger from across the table replies.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue.”

“You could’ve just said blue.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You issue him a touché type nod as you gently place your folded hands over your growing bump…a bump that was a byproduct of an ordeal that he wasn’t even present to participate in.

Before you knew him as Steve Harrington, he was just Stranger #021 whose sperm donation gave you the gift of life. The gift of having a little one of your own.

And it was about time you started a family. It has been a dream of yours — once you bagged your dream job and got to travel the world — to get married and have kids. But apparently the person you spent 6 years with did not share that dream, despite having told you he did in the beginning stages of your partnership.

Are you crazy? How dare you think your ex wanted a family after he explicitly told you he wanted you to marry him and have his kids? Silly lady. You actually thought he meant what he said.

And Steve Harrington’s baby daddy application seemed impossible to resist. The Baby Gate Foundation disclosed to you that Stranger #021 has no physical ailments, was a star athlete in high school, isn’t a carrier for any chronic illnesses, and passed a mental health and drug clearance.

Your baby is very likely to come out healthy and, now that you’ve gotten a good general idea of the guy, will hopefully inherit Steve’s luscious chestnut brown hair, his radiant smile, sparkling eyes, and kind nature. A healthy baby. A healthy family. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I just like touching it sometimes. It still doesn’t feel real.”

When selected, Steve jumped for joy. And you bet he started doing cartwheels when your pregnancy test came out positive. My dick still works! he remembers saying.

Having been a foster parent to many teenagers in the past, Steve also felt ready to have a kid of his own. But then his first long term girlfriend of three years cheated on him, and then his next long term girlfriend left him when she realized a family with him was not what she wanted. Steve was practically on the same boat as you. And the stars aligned…

“So I was thinking…when you’re in what’s considered a ‘safe’ point in your pregnancy, say second trimester… we can do cute pregnancy announcements,” Steve suggests.

Your eyes glimmer at the thought.

“As coparents of course!” Steve makes sure to add. “A-and then we can have a gender reveal. We can choose the theme and ideas for it later but I’m just thinking of an intimate cake cutting thing….pink frosting, obviously for girl…”

“And cerulean for boy,” you smirk at him, finishing his thought.

He chuckles at your comment. “Yes, cerulean for boy.”

You two then begin to brainstorm the minor details. Signing up for parenting classes. Check-up appointments. Your baby registry. Ironing out the details so that you both can relish in the pregnancy as much as possible.

When you’re done, Steve then pays for your lunch and you two go separate ways. But not before a long, grateful hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “You’ve made my dream come true.”

“I am just as indebted,” Steve insists, giving your back a loving rub. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

You decide to not let go until Steve breaks the hug. But little did you know that was Steve’s plan too. So you both stand there, in the middle of the mall food court swaying back and forth, waiting patiently for the other to let go because to be honest, you never know what a simple ‘I see you’ hug can do for somebody.

Finally, Steve pulls away.

“Listen, uh, Honey,” he says. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird because technically we don’t really know each other…but I already care about you so deeply. You’re the mother of my child. I want to be as involved as possible.”

“I care about you too Steve,” you beam at him. “And I feel like our healing journeys are coming to an end. I’m so excited to come together with another person who has the same goals in life.”

And that is all that’s said during that exchange. You hope that throughout your pregnancy, you and Steve can have more coparent dates to really get to know each other. You love that he feels safe and trustworthy, willing to put his all into the child that he, and many many medical experts helped you create. And you hope that as your baby grows up, you will find a lifelong partner like Steve someday.

“So how’d it go?”

You’re over at your best friend, Eddie’s apartment talking to him about your day. Eddie has been your best friend since middle school, bearing witness to every wonderful milestone — and tragedy — that has plagued your life ever since. Your decision to become a mother on your own, and coparenting with a stranger is no exception.

“I like him!” you exclaim. “He’s very sweet.”

“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”

“If I didn’t, it’d be a little too late for that I’m afraid.”

Eddie would’ve been more than happy to be your donor, and without a doubt, you’d trust him in being fully present in the child’s life. However Eddie comes from a home with a turbulent family dynamic, and unfortunately is a carrier of the addiction gene along with many other illnesses. Eddie didn’t want to risk doing that to you or your family. So it works out that he and his boyfriend Henry are the ‘Fun Uncles’ or as he calls them “Funcles” instead, and Steve is the dad.

“But yeah I like Steve,” you circle back. “He’s funny, sweet, looks like he takes care of himself. Even paid for my food. Oh, and as a bonus, he uses big words.”

Eddie snorts as he strides over to the fridge. “He uses big words.”

“Yeah, like cerulean.”

Your bestie cocks an eyebrow and smirks at you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue,” you smirk back at him.

He releases a theatrical gasp. “Ground-breaking.”

Your banter is cut short when Eddie’s partner Henry walks through the door.

“Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Henry!”

You watch as the quiet, tall blonde dressed in dark-denim-tailored-to-fit struts in with a grocery bag, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Hi, darlings.”

“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.

“I thought I was Number One.”

“You are,” Eddie shrugs. “In my heart. If you have an issue with your title and rank, I’d talk it up with Honey.”

“You can be Number One,” you grant him permission, eliciting a betrayed gasp from Eddie.

“Thank you, Honey,” Henry smirks, shooting a sassy look at Eddie.

Eddie issues a sour variation of that smirk to Henry, only to be met with a rough nudge to the ribcage. The two black cats then assemble to unload the groceries, all while focusing their attention back to you, their appointed ‘golden retriever’ of the bunch.

“Speaking of titles,” Henry adds. “How was your meeting with Daddy Steve?”

“It was wonderful,” you respond. “Was just telling Eddie how much I like him.”

Henry grimaces, understandably so. Your taste and judgment in men throughout the years have been nothing short of concerning. But because you didn’t willingly seek Steve out on a shady online dating app, at a dive bar at 2 AM, or on the dance floor of a sweaty small town nightclub, you figured you were in the clear.

“We’re gonna make it work no matter what,” you insist to your seemingly doubtful friends. “Even if there are discrepancies, we agreed it’s our kid before anything. And I’m ready. I told you guys myself that if I don't meet the love of my life by the time I'm 29, I'm having a baby by myself."

Aside from the two "Funcles", you have been the only consistent person in your life. And in this day and age, two people don't need to 'be together' to bring life into this world. And even if they are together, it’s not a happy home sometimes.

All that matters in this arrangement is that both of Baby Harrington’s parents are involved. That was Steve's promise to you.

Let's just hope he keeps it.

“That’s the head… and those…are your baby’s feet.”

You and Steve watch the monitor in awe as the sonographer scans your belly. You are now 20 weeks along, and doing a routine ultrasound check up.

First trimester was a nightmare. Constant nausea and vomiting so you’re not even sure that you’re stomaching those pre-natals, intense mood swings, and breast tenderness so bad you essentially begged Steve to just chop your tits off.

Regardless, you are healthy, and the baby is healthy. And now your camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of every frame of every ultrasound you get done, as well as audio recordings of Baby Harrington’s heartbeat. You and Steve even share your content amongst each other, just in case the other missed something that the other captured. It’s a wholesome exchange, really.

“Baby’s kicking a lot. Almost looks like they’re swimming in place,” the tech comments.

“I did swim and water polo in high school, could be why,” Steve explains.

You bat your eyes in adoration at your friend. He gives you a warm look back.

“Just like Daddy,” you say. And then Steve rests his palm atop your hand.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels complete.

“So, would you like to know the gender?” the sonographer inquires.

Immediately you and Steve bombard her with anxious-filled “No no no no”s. You decided to go with the cake gender reveal idea, and Henry and Eddie were in charge of having it made.

“We’d like for it to be a surprise,” Steve smiles. “But we sure would like an envelope with the gender in it. Honey’s gonna give it to her friends to give the baker.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” the tech grins widely. “I will have it printed out for you shortly.”

She wipes your belly down so that there is no more ultrasound jelly on your stomach before leaving. Meanwhile, you and Steve are absolutely giddy. You are now halfway through your pregnancy and couldn’t wait to hold Baby Harrington in your arms.

But as exciting as everything is, it is also anxiety-inducing. No parenting book could ever prepare you for bringing a kid into the world. There was so much more that needed to be done. So much to do. And it seems like there was so very little time to do it.

Steve has another question for you. “When does the baby usually wake you up?”

“Baby’s a night owl, strangely,” you reply. “I’ll feel some moving and stuff at night.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.

“Man, I hope kid doesn’t wake you up at night too much when they’re born. That’d be god awful.”

“I know, I’ve been thinking of that too,” you groan. “And all the diaper changes I’ll probably have to do before putting them back to sleep. Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about diapers.”

You didn’t want to think about post-partum shit. So far, you’ve only been focused on pregnancy shit, and that shit is already overwhelming. While you seem well-equipped for pregnancy itself, the thought of actually being a fully-functioning parenting unit alongside Steve brings on a new set of fear.

Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.

“Oh shit!” you shriek. “A crib! We need a crib! A stroller.”

“And a whole nursery,” he gulps. “And a baby monitor… A swaddle! A carrier!”

———

You and Steve are moved in together by the end of the month. Platonically, of course. With a capital P.

You both figured that raising the baby under one roof would be the healthiest way to approach your parenting situation. Both of you already get along really well and have similar communication styles. You two also have the same expectations from each other. And not every child is blessed with two parents living together in a happy home. It’s a luxury you both refused to take for granted.

So eventually the non-traditional-housewarming-slash-baby-shower-party rolls around, in efforts to help prepare for Baby Harrington’s arrival. It ends up being a huge success. Additionally, the party gave everyone a chance to mingle with one another, your friends meeting Steve’s friends and jokingly calling each other "in-laws". Robin and Eddie immediately grow very fond of each other, having deemed each other best friends after their third time meeting.

“How long do you give it?” Robin asks Eddie as they watch you and Steve work together to build the crib. “You know till they…”

They observe as you and Steve bicker back and forth about whether or not a section of the crib was installed the wrong way. You argue that it was, and Steve, still firm in his masculinity that he felt like was slowly chipping away (he can’t help it sometimes) insisted that it wasn’t.

“I know how to read, Honey. And besides, if it’s the wrong part, how did I screw it on perfectly?”

“I don’t know, Bob the Builder,” you fire back at him. “You didn’t have to 'screw it on perfectly' to get me pregnant.”

“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.

Eddie chuckles at this. He’s been with Henry for many years, but you two have beat him at the argue-like-a-married couple thing. Slyly, he sips his beer.

“…The very latest.”

“Steve, I’m hungry. Wanna go to Rally’s?”

The cravings have officially kicked in (finally). But of course, it’s at the least convenient of times.

“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”

“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”

You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.

Now that you two live together, sleeping in the same bed was bound to happen eventually. But it is the least of your concerns. In a world where people go ‘ghost’ after getting what they want, laying your head down in the same bed as Steve is the farthest thing from intimacy. You’re also afraid of the dark, and being in his light calms your nerves.

Except for tonight. Where the only thing that’ll calm those nerves is a Wild West burger and some fries.

Steve huffs, clearly too tired to argue with your hungry ass. But also, you’re the mother of his child. You have the hardest job, and having a late night snack when you felt like it is the bare minimum of what you deserve.

“Let’s go.”

You smirk to yourself as you dance your way out of bed. Anything Baby Mama wants, Baby Mama gets.

Rally’s sure did the trick. When you and Steve return, you find yourself skipping back to the bedroom while Harrington fights to urge to plop onto the floor right by the entry way, his body’s natural response to a food coma, and the state of lethargy he was in from being stirred awake.

But as much as he valued his beauty sleep, he knows deep down he’d still do it again for you. Your little food dance was also pretty damn cute, anyways.

———

THE NEXT WEEK

You and Steve have been ordering way too much takeout. So tonight you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked meal. So while he’s at work, you’re searching Pinterest for healthy, savory dishes to cook. Chinese food it is. One can never go wrong with some chicken fried rice.

Steve comes home right when you finish.

“Oh my god,” Steve gawks as he enters the kitchen. “What smells so damn good?”

“I made dinner,” you smile gleefully, and with pride. “I have so much energy second trimester it’s insane. Hope you like Chinese.”

Steve slows down. Glancing around the chaotic kitchen, he takes in the array of sauces, the cutting board, and the multiple plates and bowls that most likely harbored the. Then he looks at you — a sweaty mess with stains on her apron from all the rice tossing. And he can tell, by your slightly labored breathing, that you’re gathering up all the energy you possibly can to powerwash all the dishes.

“You…made this for me?”

“Yeah! For us, actually. And the baby. I hope you’re okay with onions and scallions.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine with those,” he insists. “It’s just that…I have a date tonight.”

Suddenly the pots and pans feel so much heavier. The air, hotter. The onions, stronger judging by how tears start pooling at the base of your eyes. At least you want to blame it on those.

“Oh,” you sniff.

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I should’ve told you so you didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s fine.”

Why do you feel this way? It’s not like you two are together anyway. This pregnancy is a partnership… platonic with a capital P. So why are you upset? And more importantly, why are you jealous?

“I-I’m sorry…” Steve panics. “I-it’s just that we’ve been getting takeout all week and I thought it’d be the same toni-”

“It’s okay, Steve.”

“That came out so bad, I…”

“I know what you mean,” you shake your head shutting him down immediately. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

“You’re crying…”

“I was chopping onions,” you point out.

You nod to the bag of onions that were yet to be put away. There was a lot left to be put away actually, and you were kind of hoping Steve would help. But clearly he’s a busy man.

“And it’s probably just the stupid pregnancy hormones too,” you add.

“They’re NOT stupid,” Steve insists. “And you just said you have so much energy. You were bursting with light just a moment ago…before I killed it.”

“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.

You head over to the wok and scoop out a serving for two: one serving for you, and one for the baby. Dad will get the leftovers, you suppose.

Steve watches you intently. You can feel his stare even with your back turned. Suddenly, you hear the faint dial tone of his cell phone ringing a couple of times before someone answers.

“Hey…Lacey, I can’t come tonight,” Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry for being so last minute. A family emergency came up.”

You look back over at him. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says ‘family’.

The two of them talk some more before Steve hangs up the phone. Awkwardly now, you chew softly at the rice you made.

“Well she definitely hates me,” Steve chuckles. “But I don’t care.”

“Steve…” you speak. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re carrying my kid,” Steve looks at you with glimmering eyes. “I can’t be running through the town in the arms of another woman. This pregnancy is a team effort.”

He glides over you and stops right where your hips meet. You timidly manage to look up at him, tear-jerked, all sweaty, and very very pregnant. And after Steve tucks a loose strand of hair behind the blushing cartilage of your ear, he presses his tender lips against your forehead.

“For the baby,” he whispers to you.

“For the baby,” you repeat after him.

The day is here.

The gender reveal, that is. You didn’t expect finding out something as simple as having a boy or girl was going to be this nerve wracking. And to think some people do this in front of a huge audience.

“Okay…” you exhale unevenly. “You ready?”

“Only if you are,” Steve nods, but his trembling hands betray him.

“Hand me a glass.”

Steve hands you one of the two wine glasses you brought for the intimate picnic you had planned for today. On the count of three, you two were to dig those very glasses into the cake and scoop out the long awaited answer.

SWEET CHILD O MINE, the cake reads. Boy or girl?

Henry and Eddie settled for a Rock-N-Roll inspired cake, with self-indulgent black and red buttercream on the outside, and the pre-determined blue or pink on the inside. You were afraid that it was going to be a little too edgy for Steve, but he assures you the aesthetic of a cake is the least of his priorities.

Drawing out an uneven breath now, you decide to start counting down.

“One…” you gulp.

“Two…” Steve joins in.

But you can't bring yourself to say ‘three’. Shutting your eyes closed in a bout of nervousness, you mutter softly,

"Two and a half..."

It earns you a chuckle from Steve. Knowing just how to calm you down, like he had been doing all pregnancy, he offers you his available hand to squeeze if you needed.

“Three!” you two finally say together.

Plunging your wine glasses into the cake, you and Steve gather one big scoop each while your eyes drift elsewhere.

“I can’t look,” you choke, sniffing back a tear or two.

“I can’t either,” Steve exhales, evidently nervous. “You can look first though.”

“No, I’ll look when you do.”

You’re met with messy dough and frosting in the glass at first. But after trailing after the inside part of the cake, you catch sight of the fluffy frosting that was buried beneath. A bright, eye-catching, pastel....

...cerulean blue. A baby boy.

“Oh…my…god,” your hand trembles in complete shock. “It’s a boy…”

“Oh my god, baby!” Steve sniffs going in to hug you. “We’re having a boy…”

And then it happens. Unable to contain himself from his joy any longer, Steve cups your face with his frosting-laced fingers, connecting his lips passionately to yours, and you with him.

It’s the best day of Steve’s life. You are the reason that he gets to live out his dream of becoming a dad. And now that you two are having a son, all he can imagine is teaching the kid how to throw a football in the backyard, signing him up for T-Ball and Boy Scouts (just like his dad once did with him), and taking him and his buddies out on silly, fun-filled rag-tag group adventures.

And knowing how strange and daunting the world can be, Steve already maps out how to raise your child morally, encouraging him to always treat others with kindness, to be a friend to all, to always lend a helping hand whenever the situation calls on it. And to respect women…because after all, everybody came from one. And Steve knows that he struck gold, considering the fact that he views you as an absolute queen.

You kiss King Steve back, humming in awe because of how natural his energy feels against yours.

It all feels very natural. Makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

Your eyes widen in shock as you two look at each other, both stunned that a kiss was both of your initial, seemingly ‘platonic’, response to the news.

"Is it just me or is it just now hitting?" Steve questions. "We're having a kid together."

"It's just now hitting me too," you agree, the double meaning tugging aggressively at your heartstrings. "We're really doing this, Stevie."

“Our son.”

———

“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”

It’s a talk you and Steve were due for eventually. But Steve is just as unsure, looking over at your pregnant silhouette standing at the foot of the doorway.

But with how beautiful you looked standing at the doorway, your silk, maternity night gown hugging all the beautiful curves of your body while you rubbed your belly that housed your very active kicker, Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d ever want to find somebody else.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he ends up saying.

He makes his way over to you, wrapping his gentle arms around your waistline, emitting his ever-growing love for you and the baby you two share.

“But if one thing's for sure, it's our son. Baby Harrington first. Before anything.”

“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.

Steve’s lips graze your skin once again, an invitation and incentive to join him in bed — nuzzled up in the sheets and his warmth — so the two of you can soak in all the rest you possibly can before Baby Boy makes his entrance into the world.

Some bridges aren’t meant for crossing. Sometimes settling is the best option. And you don’t mind settling down. Because here, in Steve’s arms, it feels like home.

WEEK 38

An involuntary rush in your lower extremity stirs you awake. When you feel around to push the sheets aside and hobble to the bathroom, you’re stunned to discover your nightgown had become a raft, and that you’re laying atop your own unscented secretions. And you know it’s not piss. So if you didn’t pee…

Oh no, it’s happening.

You begin to panic.

“Steve!” you hiss, sitting up and pushing your partner awake. “HEY! Harrington!”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.

“Get the hospital bag.”

“What?”

“Get the hospital bag, dingus. My water just broke.”

He shoots up. Still relatively disoriented, but now also horrified.

“W-what? Are you sure?! Does this… A-are you about to…”

“Yes! Grab the bag and start the car. He’s coming RIGHT NOW.”

While you slowly sit up to get your shoes and a robe on, Steve scurries to the car with your overnight L&D bag and purse in his arms. You reach over to grab your phone and charger, dialing up Eddie in the process.

It rings for a long time before he picks up.

“Honey, it’s 4 AM, what do you want?” Eddie grumbles.

“It’s time, Eds,” you sniff happily. “The baby is coming.”

The line is silent for a couple seconds, and for a while it’s like you can hear Eddie connecting the dots in his head. Alas, he speaks.

“HO-LY SHIT!”

*Click*. The line disconnects.

Steve holds your hand through it all. From checking into Labor and Delivery, to moving to your room, to breathing exercises with your bedside doula, check-ins with your midwife, and throughout the entire birthing process.

Not only is he nervous out of his mind, but he thinks you’re so beautiful.

"You know," Steve says in attempts to soothe you. "When I came out the womb, the nurse yelled "Oh my gosh! That's a lot of hair on a baby!"

You're too fixated on your breathing exercises to fully appreciate Steve's story. But you understand his sweet gesture, so you stroke his thumb with your thumb to let him know you're listening.

“I guess I had double the amount of hair than a usual newborn,” he continues. “And all the nurses were crowding around to get a good— OW OW OW! Watch the hand, watch the hand.”

The sudden level 9 contraction that shot through your entire stomach, causing you to scream in agony and beg for the epidural.

"JESUS, FUCK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" you plead desperately.

Steve kisses you softly on the forehead before going in to stroke your, very sweaty, hair. He was not going to leave your side. Not now, not ever. This baby — and you — are the best things to ever happen to him.

Thanks to yours and Steve's mindful prep, the birthing process was a smooth one compared to others.

But still pretty painful, nonetheless. For you, for Steve, for everybody involved.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Eddie sputters as he and Henry rush onto the unit with the baby's carseat and other miscellaneous belongings in their hands. "It's happening, it's happening. He's almost here!"

"I wonder," Henry pants, doing his best to keep up with his boyfriend. "If she experienced the Ring of Fire yet."

"What's the Ring of Fire?" Eddie questions him.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" your tumultuous screams sound down the hall directly from your room. Anyone would've thought someone was getting murdered in there, had it not been a hospital unit strictly for childbirth.

"That," Henry answers him.

---

"You're almost there, baby," Steve encourages you. "Keep pushing."

The epidural had finally kicked in and now all you had to focus on was pushing.

“I see the head, Mama,” your midwife announces, rubbing your knee as you’re struggling to push. “Keep going, keep going! Couple more for me.”

“FUCK!” you cry out doing your best to contract those muscles.

“There we go…” Steve soothes you as he strokes your hair. “Doing AMAZING, baby. That’s it…”

He strokes your thumb with his, a helpless look in his eyes as he watches you struggle. It’s clear that Steve doesn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, but he attempts to mask that belief. He couldn’t wait to spoil you afterwards. It’s what you deserve.

“Few more pushes, Honey,” your nurse says again. “He’s almost out. We got his shoulders now.”

“Oh god I’m gonna faint,” Steve says, evidently growing dizzy.

“Can someone get a wet towel for Dad?!” another nurse calls out. “And maybe some juice?”

“PUSH, PUSH!”

“PUSH, Honey!”

“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”

“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t anymore.”

“You can do it, baby,” Steve encourages you, pelting the back of your hand with endearing kisses. “You’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you…”

Before you know it, the air of the hospital room fills with tiny belted cries, followed by relieved and adorn coos as the nurse catches your baby.

“0507, time of birth!"

“Oh my god,” Steve wails in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s here he’s out. We have a baby! You did it, Honey!”

Too exhausted to say anything you simply fall back, taking a few deep breaths in relief. It’s over, the baby is here. And he is healthy.

You feel a sloppy kiss land on your cheek. Steve ruffles your hair when you look his way.

“You did it, Honey.”

Everything happens so fast after that.

From what you hear, Steve was the one who cut the umbilical cord — and he was very adamant about having the pictures to prove it. The baby was then weighed and bathed, all the hospital data was gathered with permission granted by Steve.

And soon, after an eternity, your son is swaddled and soon returned back to you and ‘Dad’.

"Oh wow!" a nurse remarks. "This baby has a whole lotta hair!"

You and Steve immediately look to each other and burst out laughing. Just like his Daddy...

———

“How does that feel, Steve?” you ask him, eyes fixated on the absolute DILF in front of you.

“Amazing,” he coos. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

When all needs were attended to, it was finally time for ‘skin to skin’. You didn’t think it’d be possible to be both sexy and wholesome at the same time — until you saw Steve cradling your newborn, pressing him tenderly against his exposed chest so that their hearts can beat as one.

“Hi little man,” he sniffs. “I’m your daddy.”

A single tear falls from his face and splashes onto the blanket that your son was cocooned in. Steve pulls him in closer and kisses him softly on the forehead.

“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. Steve’s legacy is about to begin and it’s all thanks to you. And from your hospital bed as you recover, you are able to snap some pictures of the two loves of your life, the first photos of many, of the family photo albums.

“Ugh, when did Steve get so hairy?” Lucas wonders as he sneaks a gaze into the hospital room.

“Right?” Dustin agrees, joining him beside the doorway. “I told him he needs to tame that jungle but he claims the ladies dig it.”

“I mean, look at Honey,” Lucas points out. She seems to like it and Steve knocked her up.”

“True but it wasn’t organic, you idiot,” Max mutters.

Love pours in from every wing of the unit. Soon all your family and friends start to arrive, as well as Steve’s family and friends. You’re spoiled with ‘congratulations’ signs, and postpartum care packages, and an array of foods that you couldn’t eat while pregnant (i.e. sushi, deli sandwiches).

And with your approval, Steve comes out of the hospital room, ready — and proud — to showcase your baby to the entire world.

“Everyone, there’s someone we’d like for you to meet,” Steve says, keeping his voice at a low murmur. “This is Benjamin Dean Harrington. Benny for short.”

You and Steve end up taking parental leave at the same time.

Your entire day-to-day consists of loving on and spending quality time with Benny. The diaper changes, the cuddles, the nursery rhymes, and everything in between. It’s impossible to think you’ll ever get tired of it. You and Steve have officially transitioned to Mom & Dad Mode.

Until Benny goes to sleep.

As the golden sun peaks in through the cream colored blinds, you feel Steve’s hand trail down your back and down to your ass to grab it. Releasing a soft moan, you lean into his touch, shifting your weight to one side of the mattress.

“Baby…” he moans into you.

“Should we?” your eyes twinkle. “The baby’s asleep…”

He chuckles into your neck, raspy voice sure to be the end of you if he kept teasing you any longer.

“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you barter. “I feel ready.”

———

“Fuck, right there, Steve…”

You grip the sheets tightly as Steve rolls his hips into you, his strokes a delicious mix of pleasure and a challenging stretch. And as you bite into your pillow, your eyes rolling up towards the sky, he maintains the pace you love so much, drilling you in, simultaneously massaging your clit while his quenched lips tenderly suction themselves to the crook of you neck.

It’s your first time together, but it feels like you two have done this before. Your bodies are naturally in sync, knowing where your boundaries lie without needing any cues, and knowing exactly how far you both can take it. Daddy Steve, being the gentleman he is, has your entire body mapped out.

“God I love it,” your overstimulated self whimpers, chest to your chin, ankles dangling off of Steve’s broad shoulders as he rails you.

“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”

His large hand encloses around your neck, thumb hovering over your lips as he fawns over your mewling, vulnerable body.

“You want my cum, baby?” Steve asks. “Want me to fill you to the brim huh? You wanna have my babies?”

“Yes, I want your babies, Steve,” you moan. “Want all of them.”

And as an orgasm spills out of you, Steve’s spills in, coating you with his warm release as you both unravel in the sheets.

“Holy shit, that felt so good,” you whisper, nuzzling your head against his chest. Steve grins from ear to ear when you kiss him on the chin. “Thank you for making me feel so safe and loved.”

“Well when you’re you Honey, you make it so easy,” he blushes.

Steve rests his hands on your ass again, giving it a faint smack. You bite your lip as he pulls you even closer to him. And as the sun sets, you know round two is on the horizon.

“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”

———

author’s note: i’m noticing some themes with the way i write eddie smut vs steve smut. i totally write eddie as a rough dom and steve is def a soft dom. not complaining tho, those are my headcannons for them 🤭

divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby

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laughing-with-god · 7 months

Text

These Things Take Time (Yandere! Supernatural! Taehyung x Reader)

Synopsis: There's something wrong with your boyfriend Taehyung. At least, you think it's him.

16.5k

Trigger warnings: yandere behavior, psychological gaslighting, violence, gore, some heavy making out, strong language, AFAB reader (she/her) I'm sure I'm missing some but you know me and what I write lol

Authors note: just a real quick thank you to @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop for having beta read and brainstormed with me literally a year ago about this fic that I never published until now.

-----

He passionately thrusted her against the wall, mouthing at her neck while muttering disgusting things that he was going to do to her.

It was foul…

It was taboo…

It was…..

Your fingers paused and hovered over the keyboard, the constant clicking of your writing coming to a sudden halt.

Your eyes scanned the last few lines, lips instinctively mouthing the words and checking the overall flow of the plot.

Your two main characters were about to fuck each other’s brains out after a long ‘will they or won’t they’ that spanned well over a dozen chapters.

There should be a feeling of torture, a feeling of relief, a feeling of frenzied lust that just couldn’t contain itself anymore and combusted within the contents of these pages.

That is what you desperately wanted your loyal readers to experience when they get to this scene.

Yet when reading the long-awaited buildup, you felt nothing.

You cared for every character you created like a mother does their child, them getting their happy endings was just as important to you as it was to them. So why did you feel so numb and dissociated from everything you’ve been typing the past hour?

You released a disillusioned sigh and leaned back into your chair. Your eyes stung from staring at a screen for so long and your limbs ached to be stretched with hours of immobility.

Writer’s block was a bitch.

Unlike other skills, writing was one of the few expertise that working harder at it won’t guarantee a better outcome. You could type away until your fingers were bruised and bloody, but it doesn’t mean anything you wrote would be worth shit. Writing was a talent and it came and went as it pleased. And right now it was gone.

Which left you very depressed and your editor very pissed.

You gave up the fight and reluctantly closed your laptop. Then stood to your full height, to give your back a much-needed stretch.

‘I tried today. And that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.’ You thought to yourself, half heartedly taking your therapist’s advice to acknowledge your efforts and not just the outcomes.

When in a creative slump, it has been said that reading other works can be a source of inspiration. Can’t be a good writer yourself, then go out and read a good writer. With this thought in mind, you slowly exited your office and descended down the stairs.

Last week your mom sent you a book she recommended, and you’ve been so busy trying to finish your own novel that you just tossed it somewhere and haven’t touched or looked for it since. Though, you were almost certain you caught sight of it on the coffee table yesterday.

When you stepped into the living room, you spotted a familiar figure standing by the large bay window.

The sight tugged a small fond smile onto your face.

Taehyung was your boyfriend of six months.

He was strikingly attractive, tall, kind and clearly didn’t know his own worth because not only was he dating you, but he also agreed to move into this secluded farmhouse while you tried to finish your book. He assured that he could use this time and space to focus on his paintings as well, but you knew deep down he just didn’t want to leave you alone out in the middle of nowhere.

Right now only his profile was facing you, his alluring feline eyes staring at the raining scene outside, dark brows furrowed in heavy thought. He looked to be biting on his lower lip, a habit you’ve never seen before, but you supposed you two have only been dating for a few months so there was probably a whole world of little quirks you didn’t know of yet.

The scene was a bit intense, as you weren’t used to your usually cheerful boyfriend looking so ponderous. Yet you shrugged it off and just assumed he was most likely brainstorming his next painting. Taehyung was your first artist boyfriend and your friends did warn you that they could be a bit dramatic.

You quickly surveyed the room and indeed located the book on the coffee table. While reaching for it you called out, “Hey love?”

Taehyung snapped his neck at a speed too fast for your liking, instantly facing you with eyes wide and blown out in what you could only assume was shock.

You giggled, thinking he was too absorbed in his own world that he probably just now noticed your presence.

“I know I said I wanted pasta for dinner but how about we order some chinese instead?” You asked. Taehyung didn’t say anything, eyes still wide in unknown revelation, entirely unmoving. You continued, “This weather makes me not want to do anything, and I know you complain about the delivery time but we could just reheat the food if it gets here cold.”

It seemed like forever but Taehyung eventually nodded.

He then turned to face the window again.

You inwardly sighed and guessed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of chinese. He always complained that you didn’t take care of yourself and how you needed home cooked meals rather than greasy takeout. But when creatively burnt out like this, you tended to just reach for the doordash because the act of cooking seemed entirely too much for you.

Hoping to butter him up, you tipped toed from behind and wrapped your arms around him. You nuzzled your face into his back and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar scent of his outrageously expensive cologne. His body seemed to melt into your hold, tense posture suddenly limp and calm.

You reached up and pecked his cheek, grinning when you caught sight of his lips twitching upwards. Harmless manipulation complete, you trudged out the room with a lukewarm “Thanks honey!”

You skipped up the stairs and made a left into a hallway, quickly getting into the bedroom and preparing to plop into the heavenly crumpled mess of sheets and blankets, when an unexpected sound caused you to still.

The front door was opening.

Afraid of a possible home invasion, you rushed out to see what was happening.

The door was wide open and emerging into the home…was Taehyung.

His hair and jacket was drenched from the rain, four or so heaping grocery bags in his hold as he looked up the stairs at you with a tired smile.

“Hey baby, can you give me a hand with some of this? I got some sauce for the pasta and picked up some other stuff we were running low on.”

Time stood still.

Your jaw dropped in bewilderment.

Your mind struggling to process this odd collapse of reality.

The nearest grocery store was, at its quickest, still a twenty-minute drive into town.

There was just no way Taehyung was able to leave and get back in the same time it took for you to get up the stairs and into your room.

No one can be in two places at once.

What the fuck was going on?

You just saw him. You just talked to him. You just smelled him. You just touched him.

Taehyung’s gaze worriedly ran up and down your face, correctly detecting that something was dreadfully wrong. He kicked the door closed behind him and rather ungracefully dropped the bags, hastily stepping over some of the falling items to race up the steps and take you in his hold.

“Y/n? Baby what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did something happen while I was gone?” He fretted.

“I-w-what-you-j-just-living room…” You stammered, not even being able to bring yourself to voice what was happening.

“What? What about the living room? You’re not making any sense.”

You gulped, looking up at him with fear. “T-Tae, I could’ve sworn I just saw you in the living room. I talked to you.”

Your boyfriend’s face dropped.

“Y/n, get in the bedroom and lock the door behind you.”

You irritably huffed while blinking away oncoming tears, realizing Taehyung didn’t quite understand what you were saying. “No! Not like an intruder! It was you.”

“I’m right here Y/n. I just got back from the market. I haven’t been home in the past hour. There’s no way you just saw me in this house.” He slowly explained, as if you were having some mental breakdown and needed to be talked off the ledge.

Your temper rose. “No shit Kim Taehyung! That’s why I’m scared! Do you have a twin brother or something? Or did you come into the living room before going back to the car to get the groceries?”

Taehyung backed away from you, clearly put off by your outburst. “No? First off, you know I’m an only child. Secondly, why would I come in and let you talk to me before going back out in the pouring rain, bring in groceries and then pretend I have no idea what you’re talking about when you said you saw me in the house just now?”

You glared up at him, now feeling foolish for even being scared in the first place of something that most definitely had a logical explanation.

Your boyfriend always had a more playful side than you and this was most likely the first trick he was trying to play in your very young relationship.

“I told you I don’t like pranks, Taehyung. You can pull them on your friends all you want but you promised to never pull one on me.”

He threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’m not pranking you! It probably was an intruder who looked kinda like me and instead of letting me go and investigate, you're arguing with me?”

“It wasn’t an intruder! He didn’t take anything!”

Taehyung laughed incredulously, “Great, you're defending some robber over your own boyfriend now? I almost feel jealous.”

“There’s nothing to be jealous over because the guy was you!” You exploded.

“Which isn’t possible!”

“Go look then!” You relented.

Taehyung didn’t need to be told twice. He swiftly ran down the stairs and went through the entire house, searching for an unseen man who managed to trick his girlfriend into thinking he was him.

He found no such person.

It was only while you both wordlessly unpacked the groceries while licking the wounds of your little spat did Taehyung make a point that chilled you to the bone.

“Y/n, when you saw me…how did I look?”

You raised a brow at him. “I don’t know? You looked just fine.”

“Okay…and your working theory is I parked outside and came in, talked to you, then went back out, just to enter through the front again like nothing happened?”

You meekly shrugged, “Yeah I guess that would be a good trick.”

Your clever boyfriend pointed at the window, where it was still raining heavily. “I would've been soaked then, Y/n.”

That was the first incident.

— Dinner that night was a tense affair.

At least until Taehyung solemnly apologized for being so bad at hiding his true identity.

He then fessed up to being the Korean version of The Flash.

Against yourself, you bursted out laughing.

Maybe it was all the anxiety of the day that made you loopy, or your desperate need to just return to normal but you apologized for snapping and blamed your overactive writer's imagination for everything.

Taehyung said it was okay and that you actually looked hot when angry, you knew for a fact you didn’t but took the compliment nonetheless and suggested an early night in.

And just like that your first couple fight was over.

Yet that night when you were in the arms of your slumbering boyfriend, with his peaceful snores rumbling in your ear, all you could think about was the other Taehyung.

You regretfully lied to your boyfriend.

You knew for a fact that it wasn’t your imagination.

You were never the type of writer who got so immersed in your work that you began imagining things and confusing them for reality. If anything, you were too grounded in reality. In addition to this, you highly doubted that multiple weeks of writer’s block would even allow for such a vivid mirage to occur.

And the most damning evidence of all, if it was your imagination…why would your mind conjure up the exact replica of your boyfriend? The very man you live with and see everyday for hours on end? Wouldn’t it be a character from your book? Or at least someone you haven’t seen in a while?

It all didn’t make sense, but you didn’t have enough information to say what it was, you just knew what it wasn’t.

You rolled over and buried your face into Taehyung’s chest, practically praying for the mystery to soon be over and solve itself quickly.

It was most likely the overthinking and looming dark corners of the bedroom, but you began to feel like someone was watching you through the small gap in your ajar bedroom door.

– A few days passed and you have almost forgotten about the incident.

I mean, maybe not entirely but you were at least willing to chalk it up to a freak incident.

Scrolling through some discussion boards online showed that your story was actually pretty tame to what other unexplainable experiences some people have had. At least the other Taehyung didn’t try to scare or hurt you. It just seemed like he was doing his own thing really, like he was lost in his own world staring out that window. Thus you concluded that you weren’t in danger, and it therefore wasn’t worth freaking out about.

Mainly because your editor was on your ass and there was nothing productive about thinking of him when you were already so late on a deadline.

Naturally, you attempted to throw yourself into your writing, which was proving to be as fruitless as ever. Yet you knew giving your editor anything was better than nothing, leading you to sending half-assed drafts to him and enduring long calls about how your writing was okay, but not great.

You and Taehyung have been off too.

There was no more fighting or even words exchanged about the fiasco. However there still was an uneasiness between you two. You doubted that Taehyung believed your imagination excuse, but you also knew that he didn’t trust your original recollection of events either. Your boyfriend sort of walked on eggshells around you, almost as if you’d somehow think he was the imposter whenever he’d step into the room. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little offended by it.

Luckily, Taehyung was currently immersed with his art, rarely leaving his little workspace. You wished you could say the same but you felt like you were simply writing in circles without actually getting anywhere. It was hard to not be jealous, but at least you were given some space away from him after a rather unresolved fight.

Meanwhile, you were planning to take a day or two off of writing, to just let your mind wander and relax so that maybe the next time you sat behind a laptop you could actually produce something worthwhile.

Of course it would just so happen that it would fall on the very day you get sick.

Waking up that morning you felt feverish and lightheaded, telling yourself that you could just use fifteen more minutes of sleep and you’d probably feel better.

You woke up five hours later; feeling even more feverish, lightheaded, and now nauseous.

You trudged downstairs to the kitchen and popped back some painkillers with a glass of water, already fantasizing about getting back into your warm and comfy bed once again.

Except what could make your bed even warmer and comfier? Taehyung.

Your boyfriend was always the more affectionate one between you two, you often practically had to push him away when you were trying to get work done. But now that you were willingly going to ask for his affection, there was no way he’d let you go uncuddled.

Any awkwardness in the relationship was long forgotten as you stomped towards his workspace, a demand to be held heavy on your tongue. You were too sick and exhausted to try to navigate relationship politics, but the whole point of a boyfriend was that he was supposed to provide attention on demand, right?

You reached his door and feebly knocked, trying to be polite to his artistic process and not just barge in.

You heard some shuffling on the other side and soon enough your boyfriend was in front of you. Taehyung hadn’t shaved his face in days, a faint goatee gracing his already intimidatingly handsome face. His black hair was messy and fluffy, a gold chain gracing his neck and drawing attention to his lack of shirt and gray sweatpants.

He grinned at you, “What’s up baby?”

You pouted up at him, momentarily not even ashamed to resort to such cheap tricks, “I feel sick and want to be cuddled back to sleep.”

“Aww poor thing.” He crooned while leaning against the doorframe. “Why don’t you head back up to bed and I’ll be up as soon as I can? I just finished a sketch and really need to focus on the next few steps before I can quit for the day.”

You huffed, kind of annoyed that he wouldn’t even take a break to hold you.

He rolled his eyes at your reaction, “Don’t look at me like that, honey. When the muse strikes, I gotta paint. Otherwise I don’t know when I’ll get the next chance for inspiration. You understand, right?”

“Yeah, I’m just really crabby and being held sounded really good.”

Taehyung chucked, muttering to himself a “cute” before leaning forward and pecking your lips. “I promise I’ll try to be quick. Go drink some water and wait for me. I’ll bring you some soup when I’m done.”

You just nodded and left him to his work. Instead of the bedroom, your feet somehow led you to the living room.

Maybe you should watch some tv while Taehyung worked? You already slept a lot today and if Taehyung was gonna be in bed with you later, perhaps it was a good idea to stay up for a little bit. Besides, you’ve been avoiding this part of the house ever since the incident and you needed to get comfortable in your own living room eventually.

Such a reminder of that rainy day caused you to cast a wary glance at the bay window, oddly feeling both relief and annoyance that nothing was there.

You plunked down onto the couch and wrapped a throw blanket around you, searching your usual streaming services for some comfort show to watch.

It was halfway through an episode of some show you’ve already watched countless times, when you heard footsteps approaching.

You looked up and saw your boyfriend, looking as cute and messy as before. Except now he held a sheepish smile on his face as he held up a steaming mug of something.

“What’s that?”

He took a seat next to you and gently handed the drink over. “Hot chocolate. I know protocol is tea whenever someone is sick, but I know how much you hate the taste.”

You fondly smiled and took the mug, flustered that he remembered such a minor detail about you. “Thank you love but you didn’t have to. You should be focusing on your work. Don’t let me distract you!”

Taehyung shook his head and threw an arm around you, holding you tight against him. He craned his neck and looked down to you, almost meeting you nose-to nose to connect his gaze with yours. Suddenly a serious expression replaced his formerly sheepish one.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.” He said, taking a deep breath before continuing, “I-I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

He licked his lips, “I know we’ve been kinda out-of-sync ever since you said you saw someone and I didn’t believe you. But, it just didn’t make sense. Like, how is that possible? Whatever the case though, I shouldn’t have made you feel like you were going crazy or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, “So you believe me then?”

“Yes. I know you wouldn’t lie. I don’t know what happened but…I know you know what you saw.”

A warm feeling spread across your chest, temporarily putting your sickness on the back burner. In truth, you weren't sure if the situation even called for an apology but you felt so pampered that your boyfriend cared enough to. “I-I’m sorry too, Tae. I shouldn’t have assumed you were being mean and pranking me. Snapping at you wasn’t cool.”

Taehyung just shrugged. “Nah, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

You secretly agreed that you were in the right but still, if he was being a big enough person to say sorry so should you. You turned your attention back to the drink in your hands, taking a sip.

You nearly moaned in pleasure when the flavor graced your taste buds.

“What did you put in this?”

“Oh just some cinnamon and-”

“Ginger.” You interrupted, knowing without a doubt that it was the other spice.

“Yup. Why? Is something wrong?” He asked, probably worried you didn’t like it.

“No! It’s perfect.” You said before gulping down more of the nostalgic hot chocolate. “When I was a kid, I had a babysitter who would make her hot chocolate with cinnamon and ginger. Mrs Fritz was her name, a really kind old lady from down the street. I was her favorite so she made hot chocolate for me all the time and watched me for free whenever my parents went out.”

Taehyung hummed, a small smile on his face as you fondly recalled one of the biggest figures of your childhood. “She must’ve had great taste.”

“Mrs. Fritz had impeccable taste.” You good-naturedly corrected with a giggle. “I miss her. When other kids wouldn’t play with me she would stay inside with me and color or read me these cool stories.”

“I would’ve played with you.” Taehyung grumbled, in all likelihood noting how you grimaced at the memory of not being all too popular as a kid.

“Haha, you definitely wouldn’t have! I was such a dork and actually hated playing outside. Kid me much rather be at home watching some old movies or something. Not to mention I was quite an ugly little girl.” You laughed.

Tae gasped dramatically, “That’s not true! You were adorable!”

“You saw like one picture of me at eight! And my mom did me all up for that picture! Trust me, I didn’t look that good at all.”

Taehyung looked like he wanted to argue further, but realizing you were right he just dropped it with an unconvincing, “Whatever you say.”

“But anyway babe, you really can go back to painting. I don’t want to keep you. If I had any inspiration right now, you wouldn’t be able to tear me away from my laptop.”

His arm tugged you even closer. “Nope, I’m alright where I’m at right now. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left my sick girlfriend all alone?”

You blushed, logically aware that you could handle yourself but emotionally over the moon that this beautiful man didn’t want you to. Selfishly, you wanted to take advantage of his presence even if it came at the expense of his art progress. So you placed the mostly empty mug on the coffee table, fishing out your phone from your sweatpant pocket and setting it there too.

You then curled up into his side, suddenly feeling so drowsy.

Taehyung held you closer, even playing with your hair as you lost the battle with your increasingly heavy eyelids.

You felt him press his lips against your forehead in a drawn out peck, as his nose ticked the crown of your head. He inhaled deeply, his everlasting love for your shampoo revealing itself once more.

“You okay?” His baritone voice whispered.

“Yeah. I just took some medicine that’s probably making me all sleepy.” You mumbled back.

You didn’t hear anything else, just felt as he rested his head on top of yours, presumably also closing his eyes to rest.

Slowly but surely feeling the mechanisms of your brain shut down, the darkness steadily taking over as the sound of the tv became more and more distant.

A notification from your phone caused you to open a single eye, quickly scanning the screen on the coffee table.

Taebear: Hey almost done over here! Do you mind turning down the TV a bit tho? Kinda distracting :(

Before you can even gasp, the medicine-induced darkness consumed you completely, effectively and brutally knocking you out.

That was the second incident.

–

“So like I was saying, I dumped his ass because what the fuck do you mean you ‘don’t know what we are’? I met his damn parents, Y/n!”

The voice blarred over the phone speaker, as you hummed rather noncommittally. “What a jerk. You can do a whole lot better, Lisa.”

You were in the laundry room, slowly taking clothes out of the dryer and folding them as you spoke on the phone with one of your closest friends. About once a week you two would have a call and catch each other up with your lives. Although, Lisa led a much more interesting life than you and usually had a crazy story to share every week, while you just reacted to it. It was kinda like a one listener podcast, but you didn’t mind as you were always very entertained with her.

“Thank you! I don’t know where I keep finding these guys. You really got lucky with Taehyung, all the other men our age are such assholes.” She groaned.

You wanted to laugh, but at the mention of your boyfriend’s name you froze.

Not catching your silence, Lisa continued, “Anyway, how are you and Taehyung doing? What’s it like to live together only six months into a relationship?”

“Actually…we had our first fight.” You told her. “Maybe. I don’t know. It may not even be considered a fight so much as a disagreement but I’ve been feeling a little awkward.”

“Oooh, what happened?” She didn’t even try to mask her excitement.

“It…I…Something happened and he didnt…I don’t know, Lisa. I’m going to sound crazy but I feel like I’m experiencing a glitch in the matrix or some shit.”

She pushed, “Try me. Remember when I used to be a flat earther? I’ll believe anything.”

Lisa made a good point, she was always down for conspiracies and even proclaimed herself a supernatural expert. So you relented, “Okay. Look, I don’t want you to laugh at me or anything because I’m being completely honest. I’m telling you this because I desperately need theories.”

“I promise I’ll give you a theory! Just get to it!” She barked over the phone, anxiously awaiting your story.

“Um, so earlier this week I went downstairs and saw Taehyung. I talked to him about ordering out instead of cooking, hugged him then went up the stairs. Then not even a second later Taehyung came home with groceries, telling me he wasn’t in the house at all when I said I saw him.” You paused, waiting for her to interject.

“Huh…” She trailed off, stumped herself with what that could mean.

“And yesterday, I went to Tae’s workspace to try to cuddle but he said he needed a bit more time with his painting and then he’d meet me upstairs. I went to the couch to wait and he suddenly came in and apologized for not believing me earlier. We cuddled and talked then…I got a text from Taehyung asking me to turn the tv down because it was distracting him.”

You took a deep breath to calm your rising nerves, not liking how you were managing to scare yourself all over again. “Lisa, how was I in Taehyung's arms when Taehyung wasn’t even in the room with me?”

“How did this other Taehyung act? Was he any different than your actual boyfriend?”

“I mean, the first time he didn’t say a word and I left the room quickly. The second time he was so sweet and…I don’t know. Maybe even nicer than my actual boyfriend but not like suspiciously so.”

“And there’s no difference between him and Taehyung? Same height, voice, birthmarks, everything?”

“Yes.”

A brief silence as she no doubt was working with a theory. “And you’ve never had experiences like this before you moved into that farmhouse?”

“None.”

“Ah-ha! It’s probably a ghost then!” She assured triumphantly.

You, however, weren’t so sure she solved the case. “A ghost that looks exactly like my boyfriend?”

“Well, crazier things have happened. You know, scientists say that each person has around six doppelgangers out there somewhere. What if this ghost was your boyfriend's doppelganger?”

“Still, why would he act like he was my boyfriend? Like, this ghost must have a different name and background than my Taehyung so why does he go along with it whenever I call him Taehyung and treat him like a boyfriend?” You questioned.

“The afterlife can get pretty dull. The ghost is probably just bored and noticed that Taehyung looks alot like him, so he’s using that to his advantage to mess around.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” You grumbled, pissed at the prospect of you being a little plaything to a bored spirit.

“I know babe but ghosts are mostly harmless. If it really starts to bother you, maybe get a medium to move him along or whatever.” Lisa advised.

“Yeah, maybe.” – Mom: Look what I found!

The text came with a video attached, and you clicked it without thinking much.

A chubby little girl of about three to five years of age was badly hiding in a school cubby. Her mini feet sticking out and wiggling as the rest of her body was covered by a hung up winter coat. The cameraman sighed dramatically from behind the scenes, asking loudly, “Oh where could Y/n possibly be?!”

The girl giggled and a new figure slowly snuck into frame, approaching the cubby with a large grin.

The preschool teacher suddenly reached into the cubby and snatched the girl up, holding her up in the air as if the toddler was a prize of some sort. “Gotcha!”

The mini version of you laughed in her hold, kicking the air in glee. “Miss Addison you found me! You’ll find me anywhere, right?”

The young teacher nodded as she placed you on your feet. “Of course! I have a really good Y/n sense! I’ll find you anywhere.”

“Even the moon?” Innocent you asked, most likely just having learned about the star.

“Yes, I’ll find you on the moon if I have to!” Miss Addison chuckled.

The video ended and you went to type your mom a half-hearted reply, mostly inquiring how she still even had that clip after all these years.

While doing so, you caught yourself wishing that you could show this to Taehyung and prove that you were indeed not the best company as a child, your teacher had to play hide-and-seek with you because no one else would.

Yet, it wasn’t Taehyung you had that particular conversation with. Rather other Taehyung.

Or as you and Lisa had nicknamed; ghost Taehyung.

You failed to tell your boyfriend about the second incident. He woke you up an hour or so later with his promised bowl of soup, softly scolding you for never turning down the tv.

Deep inside you were sure that he was already convinced you were crazy from the first time his replica showed up. You didn’t seek to push that theory even further. Mostly because you didn’t want him to admit you to a psych ward, but also because of another glaring reason. The first time you were sure that Taehyung himself was messing with you somehow, which prompted you to accuse him, but this time around you knew for a fact he was innocent.

Instinctively, you didn’t feel threatened by the doppelganger spirit. If anything you sorta wished he’d pop up again with a ginger-cinnamon hot chocolate. It was kinda weird that he was acting like your boyfriend when he wasn’t, but he didn’t try to be too intimate with you or anything. The lease on the farmhouse was only twelve months so you could put up with a friendly ghost for a while if need be.

The only creepy thing was that you weren’t sure how you were going to tell if you were talking to the real Taehyung or not. Thankfully, the sick day incident seemed to be the last one, the last few days being almost eerily mundane.

The door to your bedroom suddenly slammed open, revealing your beaming boyfriend.

He held up a champagne bottle with one hand and two glasses in the other. “Guess what just happened!”

You sat up in bed and placed your phone on the nightstand as he giddily approached you. “What? Are we celebrating something?”

“Only the Bauhaus Gallery agreeing to schedule a showing for my latest collection!”

You jumped up in surprise, instantly wrapping your arms around him and plastering his face with kisses. “Oh my god! Tae! That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! When is it?!”

“Next Friday at eight.” He chuckled through your kisses, fully basking in your attention.

The Bauhaus gallery was an uppity German gallery in town that apparently served as a who's who in the world of painting. Personally, you didn’t get what the big deal was, but Taehyung made it one of his career goals to have a show there. He always said that his career would really take off if he could showcase his work at such a place.

You pulled back and began thinking out loud as Taehyung worked on the bottle, “Wow, okay! I need to get a dress. And we should invite some friends to support you. Oh! Namjoon and his wife would probably try to buy a painting so we should see if they’re free-”

Taehyung cut you off with the resounding pop of the bottle, “Yeah yeah, we can plan that all out later. Right now I just wanna celebrate with my pretty girlfriend please.”

You quieted down and held the glasses as he poured. He then placed the bottle aside, took a glass and held it up for you to clink. You did so while your boyfriend declared, “To my collection and girlfriend; both beautiful and priceless!”

“You better announce that again at the afterparty!” You laughed, covering your blush.

You both finished the drinks rather quickly, him with a refreshing “ahh” and you with a cringe. Champagne really was overrated in your opinion, having no idea why it was the token celebratory drink. The glasses were then shoved somewhere aside, courtesy of Tae.

You laid back down in the bed, Taehyung unhurriedly following suit and even climbing on top of you at a leisurely pace.

Taehyung’s face was now inches away from yours, his every breath tickling your skin. His previous mood of joy shifted into something more…sultry. Cat eyes darkened, fully taking you in with a steadily growing smirk. The artist licked this bottom lip in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it speed, before quirking one brow up in faux inquiry. His voice was low and husky, purring into your ears, “You know, it’s been a while since we’ve fucked.”

You snorted, “Gee, that’s hard to believe when you put me in the mood like that.”

“You like a man who's upfront.” He shrugged, not wasting a second more as he leaned down to slowly melt his lips against yours.

The intimate sensation felt almost foreign, the last few days having only been filled with obligatory pecks due to you two being so caught up in your work. You almost forgot how talented he was at making you feel special.

You kissed back just as slowly, feeling the intensity of his lips and taking the time to reacquaint yourself with them. It was gentle, deep, and meaningful. He kissed you gingerly, carefully, but that’s not what you wanted. Not after all this time. Pent-up sexual frustration caused you to knot your fists in his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

Taehyung groaned softly, low in his throat while encircling you in his arms to gather you against him. You two rolled over in the bed, tangled in the sheets, still locked at the lips.

His tongue slips into your mouth, tender but demanding. You swirl your tongue against his, moaning into his mouth as his hands snuck up to twist in your hair and grip you impossibly closer. Taehyung’s slight stubble prickles you, but somehow the extra sensation just excites you even more. Your boyfriend's lips pull back and meet their ultimate home at your neck, him now mouthing fervently at the sensitive nerves there as you gasped for air.

As you felt hotter and hotter, Taehyung answered your unsaid prayer and positioned his thigh between your legs, obscenely brushing against the place you needed him most. Knowing you like the back of his hand, he purposefully tensed his thigh as you not-so-subtly grinded against it, all the while he sucked and nibbled at the spot just below your ear.

A tug at your clothes.

Softly biting your earlobe, he whispered, “Be a good girl for me and take this shit off.”

Just when you were about to oblige, an unexpected sound cut through all the haze and caused you both to freeze.

It sounded like a…bang?

From somewhere deep within the house.

It was so loud and shrill, it effortlessly echoed off the walls of your humble bedroom. If you had to describe it, it was as if someone had just thrown a bowling ball with all their might.

Undoubtedly snapping into protector mode, Taehyung immediately jumped off of you and reached under the bed to retrieve a metal baseball bat.

“Stay here.” He ordered, already marching out the door before you could even protest.

You fearfully obeyed, reaching for your phone in case 911 had to be called.

Your once warm and flushed body was now icy with panic. Sitting upright in the bed, you strained your ears for any idea of what was occurring downstairs.

But alas, the house remained freakily silent. Almost as if that brutal sound was in your head and nothing more.

This did nothing to help your anxiety, a cold sweat quickly forming.

Minutes passed, you waited with bated breath for something. Anything.

But nothing ever came.

Your worry grew tenfold.

The longer Taehyung was away, the more you felt weighed down with dread, heart nearly in your throat.

‘What was happening downstairs? Was Taehyung okay? Did he find something? If there was a struggle, surely you would’ve heard it by now, right?’

Then ultimately, as the seconds ticked on, ‘Was your boyfriend going to come back?’

At the ten-minute mark, you made your decision.

Now concerned for your boyfriend’s safety, you sprung out of bed and ran out of the room. Your body purposefully moving too fast for your mind to catch up and halt your movements in the name of self-preservation.

“Taehyung?!” You desperately called out as you practically plummeted down the stairs.

“In here!” A croaky voice answered, sounding like your boyfriend but oddly…defeated?

You correctly traced the voice to his workroom, stepping into the space and seeing a scene that swiftly broke your heart, effectively replacing all your fright with woe.

Taehyung was on his knees in front of an easel, head bowed down.

The easel held a half-done canvas.

It was a sketch of two people, a man and a woman that closely resembled you and Taehyung.

It was partly painted, the scene depicting a warm sunny day at the park that looked alot like where Taehyung had taken you for a picnic and officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You were in Taehyung’s arms, kissing his cheek as he smiled his signature box-smile. You could recall that precise moment easily, you had just said yes to being his and sheepishly pecked his cheek, embarrassed by the old man on the bench a few feet away that eyed you two like a hawk.

It was a wonderful piece of unfinished art, not only due to the sentimental value but also the artistry and time that clearly went into it.

If only there weren't angry red sloshes of paint that cut through it, ruining the picture and turning it into something that looked like a horrible bloody mess of goo and not the romantic day it was.

“I-I was going to gift this to you….on our seventh month.” Taehyung’s voice was watery.

You didn’t even know what to say.

All of his hard work and thought was simply…gone. Erased. Ruined.

It would’ve been the equivalent of someone breaking into your laptop and deleting your entire novel’s draft. What would you even do? If roles were reversed, would there even be a way for Taehyung to console you? To make matters worse, it was his gift of love to you. He didn’t make that painting for himself, a buyer, or a collection…he made it for you.

Your empathy made you almost cry for him, but you knew that would be the last thing he’d want to see right now. His guilt would only grow.

You walked further into the room and got on your knees beside him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you cradled his head in the nook between your head and shoulder while rocking the two of you. “Tae baby, I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while, although you felt wet teardrops on your skin.

“Who would do this? It doesn’t make sense why someone would break in, take nothing and just destroy my gift?”

You didn’t know either, but you wanted to make him feel better. “Listen, I think it was the perfect gift. It’s really the thought that counts and I’m just happy that you even thought to make me something like that. Especially in the middle of working on your own collection, it must’ve been hard.”

Taehyung pulled back, regarding you with a tearful but hopeful gaze. “Really?”

“Of course! I was literally going to just get you a watch or something. That gift kinda would have made me look bad.” You attempted to joke.

He shakily smiled, even chuckling a bit before pulling back entirely and standing to his full height. Tae then held a hand out for you, pulling you up as well.

Not wanting to be in the room anymore with that awful mess, you gradually pushed him towards the door, eventually up the stairs and into your bedroom.

You both sat on the bed, him with his head in his hands and you awkwardly suggesting yet another early night in.

But instead of agreeing and attempting to join you under the covers, Taehyung continued to sit almost painfully still at the edge of your bed.

Then, he spoke.

“Y/n, you were lying when you said that guy was probably just a figment of your imagination.”

It wasn’t a question.

He knew.

He believed you now.

–

It was now the official opinion of the house that a ghost was indeed roaming around somewhere.

You wanted to pat yourself on the back because truly, your taste in men was superior.

Taehyung wasn’t one of those horror movie boyfriends that was convinced every unexplainable occurrence must’ve had a logical explanation. It only took that one experience for the artist to admit that something weird was going on, and although he never saw the ghost himself, Taehyung believed you when you said it looked exactly like him.

You were happy that you two were on the same page…well, mostly.

Taehyung reasoned that the lookalike ghost must’ve been the one to ruin his painting.

You don’t know why, but somewhere deep within, that accusation just didn’t feel right. Without thinking much, you had told your boyfriend that destroying his gift didn’t seem like something ghost Tae would do.

Obviously Taehyung was bewildered at your sudden defense of the spirit’s character and demanded to know how you could be so sure that it wasn’t him.

Feeling that your hand was forced, you fessed up to the second incident in which you ran into the other Taehyung. You explained that he was sweet, brought you hot chocolate and even held you as you fell asleep. It was only after the real Taehyung texted you that you realized it wasn’t your boyfriend, but by then it was too late.

Your boyfriend was understandably furious.

For one, you never told him that you were cuddled and taken care of by another man, dead or otherwise. And secondly, this spirit seemed to be taking too much of a liking to you. The artist was a weird mixture of jealous and protective, following you around the house and barely leaving you alone in fear that his replica would show up and snatch you away.

You thought he was overreacting, but Taehyung's determination to get rid of the ghost only grew as the days passed.

One day you took a break from writing and went downstairs to refresh your coffee, when you paused at the sight of your boyfriend waving an odd burning stick around the living room in a fashion that somehow made sense to him.

“Sage cleanses the home of negative energy and basically tells unwanted spirits to fuck off.” He told you as if you were the idiot and not him- wildly thrashing his arm around in a puff of smoke and demanding that his evil ghost twin left the premises immediately.

You shrugged, “Just don’t set off the smoke detector, please.”

The next day, Taehyung informed you over dinner that he called a security camera company and had ordered a set to be installed in your home.

“Don’t you think that’s kinda a big fucking thing to not run by me?”

“I’m sorry baby, but I knew you wouldn’t have agreed.” He apologized without seeming even the tiniest bit apologetic.

“If you knew I wouldn’t have wanted it then why do it anyway?!”

“Because as the man of the house it’s my job to protect us and I would like to witness everything that’s going on. Next time he comes out and tries to touch you, I will be able to see it from my phone and confront him.” He then reached for his water and took a self righteous sip before muttering under his breath, “That is if the sage didn’t kick him out already.”

“Man of the house?!” You echoed incredulously. “You call twirling around with some burning twigs and yelling at a harmless ghost being the man of the house?”

“He’s not harmless! Why are you so convinced that it’s just a casper that we’re dealing with?!”

You opened your mouth to retort, but snapped it shut when you realized you didn’t really have any reason to believe he wasn’t dangerous. So you just focused on the main glaring issue, “Nevermind that. I just don’t like how you made a big decision without telling me. Are we not equal in this relationship? It wasn’t even worth consulting me about?”

Taehyung didn’t say anything.

It would seem that he understood your point, but was stubbornly holding onto his just a tad more.

Appetite ruined, you stormed away in a display of vexation.

Not wanting to go to sleep beside him either, you stayed all night in your office and tried to just focus on editing the latest version of your draft.

Somewhere along the way, you managed to fall asleep on the keyboard.

You blearily awoke hours later to the sound of the door firmly shutting.

Groggily you sat up and twisted to see if anyone else was in the room with you, all the while rubbing off the key imprints on your cheek and leftover drool.

No one was there.

When you turned your attention back to the desk, you softly gasped in surprise.

A plate of grilled cheese sat there, still hot.

Alongside it was a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

One sip and you instantly recognized the ginger-cinnamon.

It wasn’t your boyfriend who left this.

The sage didn’t work.

–

Ralph was a man of about fifty years of age.

Tall, lumbering, calloused and not necessarily easy on the eyes, he shifted awkwardly at the entrance of your delicate farmhouse as Taehyung listed off the places in the home that he’d like covered.

Ralph was to set up the cameras while you and your boyfriend went out for a quick errand.

The gallery showing was tomorrow, and so was the little afterparty that you had arranged to take place. You did so without really realizing all that you would need for hosting. The guest list was an intimate circle of seven, but given you and Taehyung were running out of groceries for even just the two of you, you figured a trip to the market was needed to properly prepare.

You rolled your eyes and waited for your boyfriend to finish his little pep talk, sighing in relief when Ralph was finally free to disappear into the living room with his bag of tools.

“Ready?” You asked Taehyung, not really waiting for an answer as you stomped past him and out the door.

He followed you wordlessly to the car.

The ride into town was stiff and awkward, neither one of you saying anything and music not even playing in the background as Taehyung drove.

You both were still angry at each other.

Well, more like you were angry at him and he was correctly trying to not poke the bear by instigating useless chatter.

The cameras were overkill in your opinion and a giant waste of money. You both were artists, which means a severe lack of steady income. You needed to be smart with what you threw cash at because no one knew if your next book or his next painting would even sell. Nothing was ever guaranteed.

You felt for him that his gift was wrecked, but you weren’t lying when you said that the thought was all that really mattered to you. You genuinely didn’t care either way, it would’ve been nice to have the painting, but it was just as nice to know that he was painting one for you.

If you were a betting woman, you would bet that this was more about Taehyung’s unfounded jealousy than anything else. Usually you would find harmless jealousy kind of attractive, but not when it went into installing cameras into your home at the “low” price of a couple hundred dollars.

You thought of this in a quiet rage as Taehyung pulled into the grocery store.

He parked, you both got out and walked inside before grabbing a cart.

“Let’s split up.” You said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

“Fine. What do you want me to get?”

“Get the drinks. They’re mainly your friends so you’d know what they’d like more than me. I’ll get some stuff for a charcuterie board.” You ordered, just wanting to get back home as soon as possible

He nodded and swiftly went over to the alcohol section as you made way into the food aisles.

You were looking at the different types of crackers and wondering what the fuck the difference was when a sudden call of your name took your attention.

“Y/n?”

The voice was light and airy, tone warm and nostalgic to the ears.

No way.

It can’t be…

You swirled around to face the owner, nearly choking on your spit when you realized your suspicions were correct.

Park Jimin was as gorgeous as ever. The cherub face was just as you recalled, somehow both ruggedly handsome and softly docile. His eyes crinkled behind a pearly smile, a small hand coming up to swiftly brush through his dyed blonde hair as he approached you.

“I thought that was you.” He chuckled. “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

You managed a wry smile.

Jimin was once your college boyfriend of one year, five months, and eight days.

But hey, who was counting?

“I’m doing okay.” You choked out, not liking how he quickly frowned at your strained tone. If there was one man you could never lie to, it was Jimin. “How about yourself? Did you open up that studio you always wanted?”

The truth was you knew he did. Before meeting and dating Taehyung, you were guilty of occasionally checking his social media. It simply couldn’t be helped. Jimin was the longest relationship you ever had. The first man you ever really loved. And your first ever heartbreak.

“Um, yeah I did! I heard you published your first book last year. I bought a few copies myself…” he trailed off sheepishly, suddenly avoiding eye contact. “It uh, was really well written. Are you um, working on anything now?”

You bit your lip, not sure how you felt about the man you were once wildly in love with reading your novel after years of not talking. Much less buying more than one copy to support you. “Y-Yes I’m writing my second book.”

He nodded, a proud expression on his face as he pursed his lips in thought.

“I’m sorry this is…weird.” He finally huffed. “I really didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

You sighed with some relief, thankful he felt the same way. “Same. After you said you wanted to date other people I really didn’t expect to say another word to you like, ever.”

Jimin laughed, “Haha, what? Your memory continues to suck, Y/n. If anything it was you who ghosted-”

“Y/n.”

A much deeper voice cut through the air, bringing all the attention to a new figure descending upon the scene.

Taehyung strode up from behind you, placing an arm around you and regarding the other man with a brooding look of regard.

“Whose this?” Your boyfriend asked, purposefully deepening his already deep voice.

You inwardly rolled your eyes, noting how the artist was practically puffing his chest and glowering at the much shorter man.

“Taehyung, this is my old friend Jimin. Jimin, this is my boyfriend Taehyung.”

The two stiffly nodded at each other, you dodging the questioning look Jimin secretly shot at you for being described as ‘an old friend’.

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

“So…how long have you two been together?”

Before either you or your boyfriend could answer, a pretty lady suddenly skipped into the aisle and grasped onto Jimin’s arm.

“Babe, I can’t find the oat milk! I thought you said- Oh hello!” She just now noticed you and Taehyung, smiling politely and not-so-subtly nudging at Jimin to introduce her.

“Oh, um, this is Molly.”

“His girlfriend! And you two are?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my boyfriend Taehyung.” You introduced. “Jimin and I went to school together.”

“Really? I never get to meet any of Jimin’s old friends! We should have a double date or something!” Molly was an over the top girl, your ears almost ringing at the volume she exuded. But she seemed nice, so you smiled warmly at her and vaguely agreed.

Another brief, awkward and only slightly painful silence.

“Actually…” You trailed off in thought, an idea forming in your head but you didn’t know if it was a good one. Yet it was too late. Before you could even backtrack, all three sets of eyes were on you, eagerly waiting for you to finish the thought. “…what are you two doing tomorrow night?”

“Was just gonna drag Jiminnie to see this new movie! We can totally blow it off though!”

“Well, my boyfriend is a really talented artist and he has a showing tomorrow night. We’d love it if you two could make it.”

You felt Taehyung stiffen beside you, but you paid it no mind.

From what you understood about showings the more people, the more eyes, the better. It was harmless, wasn’t it? Jimin bought multiple copies of your book, and you’d invite him to a gallery showing to please his over hyper girlfriend.

Even, right?

Molly beamed, asking for your number to exchange the details.

You did so, pretending not to notice how both Jimin and Taehyung bore their stares into you.

When finished, you waved goodbye to the couple as they made their way to the dairy section. You and Taehyung then continued your own shopping in a rushed manner- your boyfriend grumbling about having to get back in time for the cameras.

The ride home was a bit more talkative, with Taehyung asking how you knew of Jimin and what made you two friends. You answered the questions rather honestly, just leaving out the parts about how your friendship blossomed into something more.

You weren’t exactly trying to be deceitful. It was just that he was under a lot of stress and paranoia the last few days, you didn’t want to push his poor nerves any further. If he was willing to set up a bunch of cameras to keep some ghost away from you, you didn’t want to push your luck by mentioning that Jimin was your ex boyfriend and longest relationship.

Besides, it wasn’t like Jimin was any kind of threat. You would never entertain the idea of going back to the guy who dumped you. He also now had Molly, so clearly you both moved on.

Taehyung pulled the car into the driveway, asking if you could handle the few bags as he went in to talk to Ralph and sort out the last few steps of installation. You agreed, watching him jog into the home as you gathered all the groceries and took your time to get inside.

You beelined straight to the kitchen with the newly bought food, raising your brows when you saw Taehyung staring at something intently on the counter.

“What is it?”

Taehyung didn’t answer.

You walked up behind him and stood on your tippy toes to spot over his shoulder what he was looking at.

It was a note, in messy and hurried handwriting.

“Sorry but the cameras could not have been installed. It won’t work here. -Ralph.”

–

If there was any man on top of the world tonight- his name was Kim Taehyung.

The Bauhaus gallery was swarmed with countless people, all clamoring to gaze upon the latest Kim collection and ponder the intricate meanings behind each piece. They wore luxury clothes and drank fancy wine that you couldn’t even pronounce, their tax bracket clearly a couple pegs above yours. There was of course some idle chatter, almost every corner of the building being filled with some pretentious snob rambling about the brush strokes, artistic style and commentary your boyfriend was allegedly trying to make with his art.

Such a crowd was not something you were accustomed to.

Thus you clung to Lisa, both idly sipping at wine and watching your boyfriend from afar as he charmingly answered questions.

“You know, he’s going to make thousands of dollars tonight.” Lisa thought out loud. “These rich types will outbid each other like crazy.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. You were happy for him, and knew he deserved it but you would be lying if you said he wasn’t in the doghouse.

“Still mad huh?” Lisa correctly assumed, reading your expression. “What happened after the camera dude disappeared?”

“Taehyung was really upset and called the company to demand his money back. They refunded him entirely, apologized and even sent someone to get the company van. I guess the Ralph dude was an alcoholic and everyone just kinda accepts that he skipped town.” You explained. “I tried to calm him down but he sorta snapped at me about how I never even wanted the cameras so I was probably just loving it all.”

Lisa lowly whistled, “Damn. Well, he probably snapped about the cameras but I promise you it wasn’t just about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“You invited your ex to his showing.” Lisa lectured, as if you were a child who didn’t even understand what you did wrong.

You stuttered, “B-But he doesn’t know Jimin is an ex! I told him he was just an old friend.”

She rolled her eyes, “Y/n of course he would see right through that. There's always going to be chemistry between Jimin and you, he probably picked up on it and is aware you’re not telling the complete truth about what you two were.”

“He’s just overly jealous. He wants to fight our ghost too. At this point, every man is a threat to him.”

At the mention of your ghost, Lisa’s eyes practically sparkled. “Oh I can’t wait to go back to your place! I want to feel the haunted energy for myself.”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, “It’s just like any other home, Lisa.”

“That’s because you don’t have a psychic sense to save your life, Y/n.”

You didn’t know whether or not to be offended by that, so you decided to distract yourself by scanning the room for your boyfriend’s invited friends.

Kim Namjoon was an old boss of Taehyung that remained good friends with the artist even after he dumped his job to take up painting full time. Currently, he and his wife Jennifer were talking rather seriously to a thin-lipped curator, most likely about purchasing one of the artworks displayed.

Right across from where you and Lisa stood, Taehyung was conversing with his former coworkers; Jin and Hoseok. They appeared to be laughing about something, their lightheartedness standing out in the overly serious room of people.

If you craned your neck a little to the left, you could spot Yoongi and Jungkook hiding in a corner away from everyone else, almost perfectly mimicking you and your close friend. They both nursed their drinks quietly, occasionally sharing words but mainly just waiting out this event.

You always kind of thought that Lisa and Jungkook would make a good pairing if properly introduced and pushed. So you turned to your friend and was just about to suggest you guys walk over, when she made a face at something behind you.

“Uh oh, here comes the ex.” She mumbled.

You turned around to indeed see Jimin and Molly approaching.

Jimin wore a suit, dress shirt unbuttoned at the top to reveal some of his sun kissed chest. His blonde hair was properly done this time, brushed to the side and back to fully expose his forehead. He raised a hand and waved, rings catching the light and nearly blinding you in the process.

Beside him, Molly looked as pretty as ever in a blue sweetheart dress that complimented her figure. Yet, she looked rather irritated. She attempted to give you a smile in greeting, but it looked more like a grimace.

Jimin spoke first, “Hey, I’m so sorry we’re late. I’m hoping we didn’t miss too much?”

You wanted to be annoyed but without meaning to, a giggle escaped you.

“Things really don’t change.” You told Jimin, a knowing look simmering in your eyes. While dating, you guys were often the couple that showed up late to any event. Most people assumed that it was your doing because you were the girl, when in all actuality it was Jimin.

Jimin shamelessly grinned, “I’ve gotten better, I swear.”

You didn’t believe it for a second and he knew it.

You both shared a laugh, staring at each other fondly like old friends reliving the old times.

It was hard to believe that you were joking with the man you once thought you’d never get over or forgive. Countless nights were spent eating your feelings, hysterically crying and obsessing over all the videos or pictures you couldn’t bring yourself to delete.

But there are some people in life that as soon as they come back, it’s like they never left.

And it was almost as if Jimin never left.

You two continued to gaze into each other, lost in your own comfortable bubble when a sudden throat clearing broke the haze.

“Um, actually the showing is almost over.” Lisa informed, her and Molly visibly looking left out of the nostalgia.

Your ex had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! Maybe we can all just get drinks? There’s a nice bar two blocks down. I can buy a round for everyone?”

“That’s sweet but we have a little after party planned back at my place. I live kind of out of town though, so it’s okay if you can’t make it.”

“No! We can make it! What's the address?” Jimin seemed eager.

You told him, him pulling out his phone to save it into his gps system.

Molly was silent all this time, which was kind of worrying as your first meeting with her led you to believe she was the bubbly type. Now that you mentioned it, it looked like she was avoiding looking at either you or her boyfriend, focusing on a spot on the wall somewhere behind you.

You opened your mouth to maybe ask if she was alright, but quickly shut it when you realized that could be overstepping some boundary.

Fortunately, Lisa seemed to have enough of this entire interaction and grabbed your arm while saying, “Me and Y/n were just going to go to the restroom! Please take a good look around and enjoy her boyfriend’s work! See you guys at the after party!”

Your friend then swiftly dragged you away, barely leaving you enough time to smile apologetically at the couple.

When you both entered the restroom, Lisa simply marched up to the sink and began fixing invisible smudges in her makeup as you shifted awkwardly beside her.

“So…” She started, looking you up and down in the mirror. “Please tell me you know Jimin is still in love with you.”

“W-What?! No way!” You spluttered.

“Y/n it’s so obvious. I actually felt bad for his girlfriend. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She rolled her eyes, almost disappointed in your lack of awareness.

“It’s just been forever. It’s hard to not hyperfocus on eachother, we’ve both changed so much. Also, why would the guy who dumped me out of nowhere still be in love with me?”

She released a deep sigh, “He knows he made the shittiest mistake of his life and is now regretting it when seeing you and your talented boyfriend doing so well.”

You chuckled at the thought of someone looking at your relationship and being jealous.

“Listen, just remember tonight is Taehyung’s night and fighting or not, he’s still a wonderful boyfriend overall. And Jimin is your ex who broke your heart. Inviting him to your place after this might’ve been too much. I suggest you keep your distance.”

“Lisa, thanks for the advice but I honestly was just being friendly. He seemed sorry that he missed most of the showing. Besides, I’m going to be too busy hosting to have a deep heart to heart with him or anything.” You explained, a little offended that she thought you were going to play part in some dramatic reconciliation.

A sudden announcement echoed outside the restroom doors, your ears straining to hear a gallery worker asking everyone to gather on the main floor for the artist’s speech and thus the final part of the night.

Saying nothing more, Lisa and you made your exit to join the audience.

– The clock was nearing midnight.

Your usually quiet farmhouse of a home was not at all quiet.

Your boyfriend's friends were merrily talking and drinking, once in a while their masculine laughs would sync up and reverberate through the halls. They all conversed and lounged in the living room, the largest part of the house that could fit all of them comfortably. Yet, you and Lisa stayed in the kitchen, making the drinks and finger foods, as you indulged in harmless girl talk.

“The one with tattoos is so hot, Y/n. Please tell me he’s single!”

“Jungkook? I’m pretty sure he is. Taehyung told me that Namjoon is the only other one in the friend group that’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, so far so good.” She paused to pop a stuffed mushroom in her mouth, humming in thought. “What’s his type though? Like, would I have to make the first move? Does he like a straightforward girl? Because he hasn’t so much as looked at me tonight.”

“I’ve only met Taehyung’s friends once before so I don’t know their types or anything. I do think Jungkook looks a lot manlier than he actually is. He’s very kind but shy so you’ll have to talk to him first.” You explained while opening another bottle of wine for the two of you.

Lisa frowned at the thought, not used to being the one that had to chase.

You poured two glasses, handing her one with a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can introduce you two. It’s kind of a good thing he’s avoiding you like the plague, Tae once said he only acts like that with pretty girls.”

Your friend lit up like the fourth of july.

“Hey babe!” A familiar deep voice called out.

You looked around to see your boyfriend stepping into the kitchen, a buzzed smile on his face and a slightly glazed film over his eyes.

Moments like these made you realize how much of a lightweight your boyfriend was. It only took one or two drinks for him to get tipsy. But it was still his night and he was already home amongst loved ones, so all you could do is smile endearingly at his slightly intoxicated self.

“Yes, handsome?”

His boxy grin grew, “The boys want more beer.”

“Already?! I put out a twelve pack! People need to be able to drive home, ya know!”

He laughed, “Baby, my friends can drink a gallon each and still be able to drive home with their eyes closed if need be.”

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

He nodded in thanks, turning his back to presumably go to the basement and retrieve the drinks.

Lisa waited for him to get fully out of earshot before leaning over and dramatically whispering, “How is Jimin and that Molly girl doing?”

You shrugged, “Last time I was in there, Hoseok was making conversation with Jimin and Molly was all over Yoongi.”

“Damn, trouble in paradise?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t seem too bothered and she seemed a little drunk. She might just get overly friendly when she drinks.”

“And you’re still convinced that he’s over you?”

You rolled your eyes but ultimately stayed silent, aware that the couple was acting sorta strange but also not so sure that you were the cause. You took your wine in one hand and a plate of appetizers in the other, motioning for Lisa to grab the rest and follow you.

When you both entered the living room, you were thrilled to spot Jungkook sitting alone on one of the loveseats. You quickly set the food down and pulled Lisa along with you, approaching him with a friendly smile meant to put him at ease. Considering the way his eyes widened at the sight of your friend, you didn’t know how successful you were.

“Hey Jungkook, it’s been a while!” You greeted.

“Y-Yeah it has been. How’s your erm, book going?”

“It’s doing okay, thanks for asking. Have you met my friend, Lisa?”

He briefly scanned your friend, nervously gulping before saying quietly, “…No I haven't.”

“Oh well, Lisa was just saying how much she liked your tattoos.” You nudged her, prompting her to say something.

She just nodded in agreement, suddenly meek.

He blushed, “Thank you.”

“Actually, Lisa, weren't you saying that you were thinking of getting a tattoo?” You pretended to think out loud, as if you weren’t outright playing them. You didn’t wait for her to answer the rhetorical question, “Jungkook, don’t you do tattoos now?”

Now on a topic of interest he was for sure confident in, Jungkook practically jumped in his seat, “Yeah! I do! I’ve only tatted myself and some friends but I hope to work on more people.”

You watched with a smirk as Lisa moved to sit next to Jungkook, her now explaining what she’d like done and Jungkook asking questions about placement, size and color.

You felt sure enough in them to leave them alone, now inhabiting your little corner as you finished your wine while taking in the scene.

Yoongi and Molly stood by the window, and were obviously the most inebriated. He was the type to ramble pointlessly when tipsy, and she giggled at every little thing he said, playfully shoving his shoulder once in a while. You knew for a fact that Yoongi was too deep in his own self-epiphanes to notice her bad flirting, either that or he was just trying to talk to anyone who was willing to listen.

Namjoon and Jennifer were sitting on the couch and talking to Jin, laughing at whatever odd impression he was attempting. Beside them on the loveseat, Hoseok was politely nodding along to small talk from Jimin. Being one of the friendliest and most calming of the group, it made sense that Hoseok was the one trying to make your ex boyfriend feel included.

Content to just watch your guests for a while, you stood by your lonesome and slowly sipped at the remnants of your wine.

Playing host wasn’t exactly your forte, so you were enjoying the little lull while it lasted. Unlike your boyfriend, your social battery tended to max out at the two-hour mark when in group settings.

And as much as you loved the people in your home (with maybe the exception of your ex and his girlfriend), you couldn’t wait for them to get out so you could take a long, hot shower and head to bed.

The stress of the last few days was really tiring you, and you just knew that as soon as the excitement of the showing and sold paintings wore off, Taehyung was going to continue his spat with you about the cameras.

When you and Jimin dated, you two were always on the same page. Fights very rarely happened. And Jimin was such a people pleaser that if literally anything slightly upset you, he would practically fall over himself to make you smile again.

Taehyung was the first boyfriend to genuinely pick a fight with you, being more stubborn than you about matters you didn’t necessarily want to back down from either. Your relationship conflict resolution skills were being tested, and you just didn’t have the patience or experience to keep fighting much longer. You would call a truce or some type of compromise, if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to really keep both of you happy.

A few minutes passed as you pondered this to yourself.

Seemingly materializing out of nowhere, a mysterious arm wrapped around your waist.

The suddenness of it all caused you to jump and release a very unflattering squeak.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

A deep chuckle rumbled beside you, Taehyung smirking lazily before diving face first into your neck and nuzzling it in some sort of drunken stupor.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You groaned, trying to forcefully shove his face away from you. “Where’s the beer you went to fetch?”

Your boyfriend expertly dodged your shove and dove back into your neck, mumbling against the skin something about not being able to find more drinks.

The vibration of his lips on such a sensitive spot made you want to squirm, but his halfhearted mumbles took your attention a bit more.

“No beer? I could’ve sworn-”

“Hey Y/n!” Someone interrupted with a call across the room. You looked up to see Lisa trudging over with a determined look on her face and a fogged up look in her eyes, perhaps a bit more tipsy than you remember leaving her. “Aren’t you going to show me where exactly you saw the ghost?”

Your dear friend most likely thought she was being discreet and having a normal conversation at a perfectly appropriate tone. But no, she was actually speaking way above a conversational volume, causing everyone else in the room to halt their conversations and turn to look at you.

“Ghost?” Jin laughed.

“You saw something in this room?” Hoseok inquired with a trembling voice, most likely regretting having come over. Beside him, Jimin quietly shook his head to himself.

“No way, Y/n doesn’t believe in stuff like that.” Your ex confidently informed the group.

At the sound of your past lover’s voice, you felt Taehyung stiffen beside you. The artist untangled himself from you, standing to his full height and facing the guest with an unknown expression.

“We had a little bit of a ghost problem, but it’s taken care of now.” He paused, and you could nearly hear his smirk when he went on to declare, “I got rid of it.”

Yoongi laughed boisterously, having to hold himself up with the wall to prevent falling over. “I’m sorry, but the image of little Tae boxing a little sheet with two holes for eyes is really sending me.”

Half your guests laughed at the thought. The other more believing half still stared at you inquisitively.

An awkward silence.

“Ghosts are real.” Jennifer started, effortlessly drawing all eyes to her. “I used to live in a haunted house when I was a kid.”

She put her drink down and folded her hands across her lap, suddenly immersed in thought and careful about what she was about to share.

“In my childhood home, there was a garden in the backyard. Almost everyday, at sunset, I’d look out the window and see this lady circling the flowers and humming to herself. After ten minutes or so, she would disappear into thin air. I told my parents but they never believed me.”

She paused, either for dramatic effect or to recollect.

“Until one day, my mom saw her too. And when she went out to confront what she thought was an intruder, the lady disappeared before her eyes. My mom then did some digging about the history of the house and it turns out, the previous owner was outside gardening when she had a heart attack and died.”

A pregnant pause hung in the air as everyone silently digested the anecdote.

“That’s fucking terrifying, please tell me your parents moved houses after that.” Hoseok broke the silence first, pleading with watery eyes.

Namjoon’s wife laughed, reaching for her drink once more. “How is it scary? The lady was just checking on her garden in the afterlife. However, I then grew up really interested in supernatural stuff.” She turned to you. “There’s some tell-tale signs that a home has a spirit attached to it. Cold spots, shadow figures, whispers, scary dreams and the biggest of all: always feeling like you're being watched, even if there’s no one else in the room.”

You quietly thought to yourself. Were there any cold spots in the home? No. Any shadow figures? Nope. Whispers and nightmares? Nada.

But…the last one, being watched when no one is there.

If you really focused on your intuition, you faintly felt that even now amongst all these people, you were being watched by something unknown.

Goosebumps raised on the surface of your arms.

Chills ran down your spine and you shivered, the reaction causing Taehyung to grasp you tighter against him in what was supposed to be comfort.

You felt even more cold.

“We haven’t had any of that. Really guys, it’s taken care of.” Your boyfriend told the room, effectively shutting down the paranormal subject.

You assumed Taehyung felt a bit defensive of his ghost expelling skills, either that or he genuinely wanted another topic of discussion.

You then felt a little bad, it was still his night after all and here you were unintentionally ruining it with your little ghost stories. The focus of the room should be on him and his achievements, not everyone's supernatural beliefs and stories.

“Taehyung is right, it’s all resolved. But I’d like to ask all of you to fill up your glasses one last time, and raise them with me, ” While they did that you quickly scanned the room, “Um, except maybe you, Yoongi. Feel free to sit this one out, bud.” You laughed as the drunk man just grumbled at you, defiantly snatching another beer and holding it high while swaying on his feet.

Hopefully he wasn’t the one driving home.

You cleared your throat, “I'd like to propose a toast to our own Taehyung. Everyone in this room knows it was only a matter of time before your artistic genius was recognized by the world, but that doesn’t make us any less proud than we are of you tonight. To the first of many showings! To Taehyung!”

“To Taehyung!” the room loudly parroted back, everyone thrusting their drinks of choice in the air before knocking them back.

The artist beside you laughed and shook his head, “Really, guys it’s no big deal. Just a few paintings that I’m lucky even got sold. But thanks so much for making it. Most of you-” he snapped a side eye where Jimin sat, “have supported me so much, I’m just happy to have such a great group of friends.”

Said friends all smiled and nodded, although a few caught on to Taehyung’s subliminal dig and warily looked over at your ex.

Jimin pursed a tight smile, clearly trying to be nice and not make it obvious that he was the outsider at the party. You caught his eye and shot him a sorry look, but he shook his head in what was clearly meant to say “don’t worry about it.”

Your boyfriend continued, “However! ‘Friends’ don’t really beat ‘love of my life’. So without getting into all the lewd details of how I plan to spend my night celebrating, I’m going to need you all to start clearing out,” Taehyung smirked. “Y/n is a screamer.”

“Ew!” Lisa shouted, beside her Jungkook was suddenly unable to make eye contact with you.

The older men in the room just cackled. You slapped the artist's chest while trying to hide your blood red face.

Taehyung ducked and mouthed at your ear to whisper, “Sorry baby, but you know it’s true. And don’t act like you don’t want them out sooner rather than later.”

You wanted to be mad, but understood he was tipsy and riding on the high of his showing. So instead you played along and harshly whispered to him, “I doubt you can make me scream tonight. It’s not right to be misleading to your friends.”

He tiled your head to make you face him.

Taehyungs’ left brow twitched in vexation, his lips pulling back in a little growl. He looked around to make sure the guests were distracted with finishing their drinks or saying their goodbyes to each other. When he confirmed no eyes were on you two, he secretly placed his hand at the back of your head, running his long fingers through your hair and stopping right at the ends, to quickly form a fist and pull.

It was just one short tug, but the power of it made you gasp.

You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you a little wet too.

You had no idea where this came from. He never pulled your hair. Your boyfriend wasn’t rough and was one of those really progressive artists types that viewed any kind of manhandling in the bedroom as sort of sexist. But when you peered up at him, with the doe eyes he said he loved so much, and saw the clouded nature of his gaze, you just knew that inebriated Tae was very different from sober Tae.

Black and white, really.

‘I’m in for quite the night’ you thought to yourself while biting your lip, inwardly smug at how Taehyung transparently honed in on the action.

“Um, hey I think I’ll take my leave first.” You looked up to see Jimin awkwardly shifting in front of you two, a blacked out Molly in his hold.

“Oh god! Is she okay?” You exclaimed, noting the poor girl looked dead.

The dancer chuckled, “Yeah, she just gets really hyper when she's drunk then passes out after a bit. Ironically, sleep is all she needs I guess since she always wakes up good as new. No hangover.”

“Here let me show you out. I can help put her in the car.” You offered, already detangling yourself from Taehyung. He made a small sound of protest and made move to hold you tighter.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and consoled him with a smile, “You wanted people to leave, so we should help everyone get home safe. Can you check on Yoongi and maybe see if Namjoon and Jennifer can take him home?”

He looked conflicted, carefully sizing Jimin up through his peripheral. You wanted to roll your eyes. Although tipsy Taehyung was apparently a sexy beast, he was also an immature toddler who needed to be tricked.

You got on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear, “The quicker we get people out, the quicker you get me all to yourself.”

That seemed to convince him as he reluctantly stomped away in the direction of the couple, shooting one more guarded look at the dancer.

With that you led Jimin to the front door, even helping him put Molly’s heels back on before stepping out into the driveway and walking him to his car.

Silently, he opened the car and laid her in the backseat, tucking her in with his jacket. Then he shut the door, but instead of walking around to the driver spot, he turned to you and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

“So….”

“Look, I’m sorry about Taehyung. I didn’t even tell him you were an ex but he’s just been really possessive and weird lately. It’s not just you.” You informed him, hoping to make him feel better.

Jimin just waved it off with a chuckle, “No, I get it. You’re really gorgeous, kind and talented. I also struggled with jealousy when we were together. Can’t really blame him.”

You hoped your blush wasn’t too prominent as you said, “Yeah, but you were always nice to people regardless of feeling possessive. He was just rude. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Well, you can’t really date someone breathtaking if you’re going to be an insecure prick about it.”

You gaped like a fish at the implication you were still breathtaking in Jimin’s eyes. Words were suddenly hard to come by.

It was silent for a moment, the tension between you two as thick as it can possibly get for two past lovers.

“Y/n…why didn’t you tell him we dated?”

“L-Like I said, he’s already been acting jealous and I didn’t want him to focus on that when it was his night. Besides, It’s not like-”

“I broke up with Molly.”

“…What?”

“It happened on the way to your after party, she was upset that I still held a candle for you. And yeah, I couldn’t drag her along when I never felt half of what I felt for you, for her. I just said it without thinking, terrible timing of course. But that’s pretty on brand for me, I suppose.” He attempted a joke.

You smiled politely, although you had no idea how you should feel.

He continued, “I just thought I should say sorry because the reason she was such a drunk and sloppy mess in your home was because I carelessly dumped her on the way there.”

“It’s um, okay Jimin. She wasn’t the only drunken mess tonight. I hope you two manage to stay friends.” You said, then after a beat added, “And that you find what you’re looking for.”

“Listen, I know you're with Taehyung and happy but, I think there was some kind of misunderstanding about our breakup. I’m not trying to be a homewrecker or anything, but can we get a coffee sometime and just…talk?”

You smiled, finding no harm in the offer. “Sure-”

“No.”

You gasped and whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind you, arms crossed and hell in his eyes as he glowered down at Jimin.

How did he get there without being spotted or heard?

It's like he fabricated out of nowhere.

“I suggest you get in your car, leave and never speak to her again.”

Your ex held his hands up in surrender, “Look man, I wasn’t trying anything-”

“What kind of guy goes to their ex when she’s clearly in a happy and healthy relationship, and tries to drudge up the past in the name of closure? Fuck your closure. You lost her, and now I have her. And trust me, she has better things to do than getting coffee with the guy who broke her heart.”

“Please, Taehyung-”

You were cut off.

His voice was the lowest you’ve ever heard it, eyes pitch black and face blank as he calmly finished, “It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. And if I see you again I’m going to break your kneecaps and skin you alive, you little spineless boy. Run along now. While you still can.”

The threats were so visceral and promising, coupled with a man who looked downright murderous yet somehow calm. As if he had done it before and doing it again would be more so an inconvenience than a whole life-ending ordeal.

In this moment, you didn’t know your own boyfriend and you were terrified with this new persona.

No one moved or spoke, in fear one step or word would make Taehyung good on his promise.

You and Jimin were paralyzed, like two helpless deer in the presence of a blood thirsty wolf, the only hope was to stay still and go unnoticed. You met your ex’s eyes and while he did look afraid, he was focused only on you and your proximity to Taehyung.

Jimin was fearful. Not for himself, but for you.

And while you wanted your ex to run away, you were also scared to be left alone with someone so different from your usual Taehyung.

How could a few drinks and some jealousy cause such a behavior?

“Hey what’s going on here?”

Namjoon and Jennifer were babysitting a toddling Yoongi, the couple was also making way to their vehicle when they spotted the scene. The so-called ‘leader’ of the gang was quick to pick up on Taehyung’s aggressive stance, probably prompting him to get involved.

You felt your body lighten in relief.

Namjoon was always good at calming people down and taking control of situations.

Like a switch was turned on, your boyfriend grinned at the oncomers and nodded over at the dancer. Seemingly happy as a clam he chirped, “Nothing, hyung! Jimin here was just leaving. His poor girlfriend had too much, I think.”

Namjoon didn’t quite believe that, you and Jimin still looked rigid with alarm after all. Nonetheless, he played along for everyone’s sake. “Really? Maybe you should leave now then Jimin, get her in bed as soon as possible. It was nice meeting you.”

Jimin took the hint with grace and wordlessly ducked into his car, not acknowledging anyone else as he mouthed to you “call me”.

He started up the car, then slowly backed out of the driveway, and eventually down the road.

“Dude, are you sure you’re okay? It looked like you wanted to kill him.” Namjoon asked the artist.

Before hearing whatever bullshit was going to spew out of his mouth next, you promptly whipped around and stormed back into the house, making sure to purposefully shoulder-check your boyfriend as hard as you could in the process.

What the fuck was wrong with the bastard?!

Talking as though he was some offender or even a murder, just because your ex wanted to catch up?

You were so dreadfully embarrassed! Jimin must’ve thought you lost your mind after him and went off to date some real weirdos.

If you weren’t already on a lease with the man, this probably would’ve been the part where you blocked him and made it your personal mission to never see him again.

Instead, you busied yourself in the kitchen and washed most of the dirty dishes your guests left behind. You hoped Taehyung was wise enough to leave you alone, if the jerk knew what was good for him.

About 15 minutes had passed, and the kitchen was nearly as spotless as it was before the party had started, thanks to your furious cleaning and scrubbing. The house was now silent, and you were just debating putting all your spices in alphabetical order when you heard a shuffle behind you.

You snapped around and instantly scoffed at the sight.

Taehyung was leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets and fixing a sheepish look at you.

“So…that got a little out of hand.”

You barked a disbelieving laugh. “More like you got out of hand, Taehyung. Threatening people like you’re some felon! Wouldn't be a surprise if there’s a rumor spreading about me dating a serial killer now."

“Y/n, I’m sorry. But please let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up to me? Your actions cannot be undone Taehyung! I cooked and cleaned after your friends and tried to make this night special for you. I just wanted you to have a nice night and be nice, and you flip out over a platonic coffee date? Who do you think I am? A slut who will open her legs to any ex who talks to me?!”

“W-what? No- Of course not! Please don’t think-”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, asshole?! Even if Jimin still had feelings for me, it would take me reciprocating them for anything to happen! You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s the case, then what are we doing here? Should we just become roommates or something?”

A painful struck his face, watery eyes met yours when he choked out, “Do you even hear yourself? Why would I try to fight your ex if I truly didn’t love you? You’re mine, and I love you so much it’s just…I can act a little crazy sometimes.”

You sighed, turning your back on him to lean on the sink in exhaustion.

“I thought you were different from other guys, Tae. That caveman shit is extremely degrading to not only you, but especially me.”

“I’m sorry…it’s just a primal part of me that I can’t turn off. Give me a chance to make it up to you.”

You shot a look over your shoulder at him, still pissed.

He shot his hands up in the air, as if in defense. “You can still be mad at me all you want.”

“You’re sleeping on the couch for a week.”

“Done.”

“And….And you’re forgetting all about those stupid cameras.”

He quirked a grin, unknown mirth dancing in his eyes. “Sure.”

“At the end of the week, you will personally apologize to Jimin via a phone call or letter.”

His smile dropped, your glare sharpened, “Umm..fine okay. It won’t be sincere though.”

You rolled your eyes, “Doesn’t have to be, it’s the right thing to do so you’ll do it.”

“…anything else?”

“Not for now. I’m going to bed soon so if there’s anything you need from the room, get it now.”

He wordlessly turned around, and you then faintly heard him going up the stairs.

Biting your lip in deep thought, you proceed to wipe off the last of the counters.

Could you forgive him? When he was willing to do all that to appease you?

If you were being honest with yourself, you could feel the irritation already start to melt away a bit. You hadn’t expected such a 180 in his stance, he went from threatening Jimin with murder to begrudgingly agreeing to apologize within only a matter of half an hour or so. You thought you would have to at least give him the silent treatment for a bit before you could even bargain a “sorry” for your ex. Taehyung was usually much more stubborn…

Nonetheless though, you were still upset and embarrassed about the scene.

You hated when men got violent around you, it made you feel so unsafe and small. You thought Taehyung was different, him even poking fun at the meatheads who would pull stuff like that at the local bars you would frequent while dating. So what changed?

Footsteps slowly descended back down the stairs, telling you that Taehyung had returned from your bedroom and it was safe to go up.

You left the kitchen, turned off the lights and passed through the hallway. Briefly you stopped, just short of the stairs, to see your boyfriend grumbling to himself while arranging some blankets on the couch.

A sudden and chilling thought ripped from your lips before you could even quietly ponder it.

“Taehyung…how did you know Jimin was my ex?”

He stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face you with a blank look.

“Uh, Lisa might have slipped up and told me.”

You relaxed, unknowingly releasing a breath you had been holding. “Hmm, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight baby.”

“Oh! Let me get some water first, can you check that the doors were locked?” You asked while skipping back towards the kitchen. You hated waking up with a dry mouth and always kept a glass of water on your nightstand, restless bathroom trips be damned.

You didn’t hear any response to your request, but you paid it no mind, assuming Tae probably already double, if not triple, checked the locks being the worrywart that he was.

Right next to the kitchen entrance was the basement door, and it was shut.

Yet, something stopped you in your tracks.

The light under the basement door…it was on?

“Well I don’t have any more beer up here. Just wine. There might be some more in the basement, though.”

It couldn’t be….could it?

Your intuition was hollering at you from within.

A force greater than you pulled you to the door handle.

Against yourself, you opened the door to the basement…

And choked back a horrified scream.

At the bottom of the stairs lay Taehyung.

Unconscious, pale and bleeding horrifically from some head wound that was forming an inky pool under his crumpled form.

It wasn’t your Taehyung that returned upstairs.

So...this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year lol. I do have a dramatic ending in mind and some final scenes but yea, I don't think I could finish this unless people actually wanted it so let me know if this is a plot you kinda liked? I never tried flat-out supernatural horror like this. Anyway, happy October guys! Love you all. Luna :)

#yandere bts #yandere taehyung #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts fic #bts x reader #yandere au #bts #bangtan boys #male yandere #taehyung fanfic #yandere taehyung x reader #kpop fanfic #taehyung fluff #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction

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drabblesandimagines · 20 days

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Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.”

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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