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0alanasworld0 · 1 year

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Hidden connection (Yassine Bounou x reader) *request

Request: "Hey 👋, okay first of all I’ve saw your fics and they are brilliant, so I’ve would like to request you a fic on Yassine Bounou where the reader is the is the daughter of Walid Regragui and they met during the World Cup. Thanks in advance ❤️"

Warnings: none

“Please don’t take unnecessary holidays just for this tournament, habibi” your father says over the phone while looking over the team training. You’re not entirely sure why he’s so nonchalant about the whole ordeal. He’s the coach of your country’s team, the big reason for why so many retired players decided to make a return. A beacon of hope for Moroccan football with a glittering vision for the team that no other coach has had the courage to pursue.

“You can’t be serious, dad. It's your big moment and I’m coming. It's bad enough that you convinced me to miss out on the qualifiers.” you remind him, with a tut. You can miss a few weeks of work for this. Absolutely worth it. you can feel it in your bones that it's gonna go well. He hums with slight disapproval but is relieved internally. Should anything big come from this, he wants you there with him.

Thankfully, your bosses were only a small bump in the road. Being Moroccan themselves meant that a single implication of your father’s name had their ears perking up, when they realised anyway.

“Hmmm, we can’t just give out holidays Ms. Regragui” he states, not bothering to look up from his laptop.

“I understand that! Trust me, I do! but since my father is helping out, I would really like to be there to support him.” you reply, trying to hint at the reason without fully going down the nepotism route.

“Helping out? Ms. Regragui, that's hardly specif-” his eyes widen in realisation.

“You know what, maybe I'm being too hasty. 3 weeks is good, right?” Bingo.

“Thank you, sir I-”

“Yes yes it's fine! Great even! Just get a shirt signed for me, yeah?” He looks at you expectantly as you nod your head vigorously.

“I really appreciate it, sir!” You say, walking out of his office and sighing a big breath of relief.

The perks of your father’s status means that you’re in the stadium earlier. You have some time before the match as the team squeezes in a final training session, nervously awaiting their big debut. They're revived with a new sense of hope and excitement that they haven't felt in far too long. The weights of resentment and general discontent are lifted and there's a burning desire to make their big chance count, to make everyone proud.

You’re on the grass just daydreaming with your music, admiring the beautiful day, looking out at the team every once in a while. One of those glances, lands you on someone familiar. Sevilla vs Real Valladolid. March 2021, the 2nd ever goalkeeper in La Liga to score a goal himself. You also know that he has some impressive stats to match that goal. He’s practising some basic footwork with one of the younger players, stopping to give him some advice every once in a while. You zone back in to see him smile at you. You feel butterflies in your tummy already and you haven't even spoken to him. He has a gorgeous smile, in all fairness. The rest of him is gorgeous too so you shouldn't be too shocked at that: he’s got thick, dark hair that swoops over his forehead, dark brown eyes that are slightly obscured by his heavy brow, an adorable mole on his cheek, a small scar on the other and lord help you that dimple on the apple of his cheek- enough. you cut the rambling thoughts off short as you wave back with your brightest smile, hoping that the pause wasn’t as long as you were imagining. You don’t see it but as you’re scrolling through your phone he asks Hakim about you, gaze never leaving.

“Oh that's Walid’s daughter. Mashallah, she’s a sweetheart. So talented too!” he praises, eyes narrowing as he notices Yassine continuing to stare at her. He hums in vague acknowledgement with a smile on his face and soft eyes. Hakim rolls his eyes playfully, leaving Yassine to collect his thoughts.

You made it to your seat in the stadium with little fuss. You’re behind the Moroccan goal post and close enough to the pitch to discern some faces. Admittedly, you’re a little disgruntled that you can only see the keeper’s back but you can’t complain, It's still your father’s world cup debut.

The match has been frustrating, some clear opportunities that were just short of a goal for your home team and some close calls by Croatia to score. Yassine does well to hold them off. He certainly lives up to his legendary La Liga status, that's for sure.

The game ends after what feels like years, the score remaining at 0-0. It's not ideal but given the competition, you consider it to be quite impressive. Not a moment of celebration necessarily but your father brings you onto the pitch anyway so you catch up with some of the players. You have a good friendship with Achraf in particular.

“You were pretty impressive out there huh?” you smile at him, it's been a while since you both spoke. Both of your schedules are packed as ever. You know that his career has blossomed quite spectacularly over recent years and you couldn't be more proud.

“Could have been better, thank Allah that Yassine was okay for this match!” You both laugh together. His name makes your eyes light up a little bit, what is wrong with you?! You hug again as he leaves to talk to one of the coaches.

You make eye contact with Yassine again but this time, without the bounds of his training, he jogs up to you. Your heart starts beating quickly again as you try to come up with something to say. C'mon be cool be cool be cool be cool-

“You’re really living up to that Zamora trophy, huh?” you joke, wanting to kick yourself for being so forward but thankfully he chuckles.

“I try my best. Not easy when Luka Modric and co. are coming at you with full force.” you hum and giggle a bit in agreement. There were certainly some close calls and having to face such a strong attacking force must have been one of the most nerve-wracking moments of his career.

You both begin walking together as he continues to make you cackle with his corny jokes. You’re stood very close and he goes to nudge your shoulder every once in a while, trying to coax more laughs out of you. He’s absolutely smitten. You're gorgeous with an infectious personality that he feels compelled to be around. And the feelings are mutual. He’s obviously mesmerising but he’s so unbelievably sweet and down-to-earth. You feel all warm and cozy in his presence. Not to mention that you absolutely love the way he towers over you.

In the midst of enjoying each other’s company, your father, among a couple of other players is keeping a watchful eye on the pair of you. The chemistry is palpable already and Yassine is the picture of a complete sweetheart but your father is naturally a little weary. However, he keeps quiet. Maybe this is a one-off moment that will pass.

It was not a one-off moment and it certainly wasn’t passing. He enters your bedroom to see you knocked out cold at normal hours in the night and hears your hotel room door opening at odd hours in the morning. He thinks he can hear you laugh and mumble quietly about something? Weirdly early for a night owl like you but he doesn’t want to pry. You've always loved exploring so perhaps it was just the excitement of being in Qatar that began waking you up early. It's a good habit to maintain, far more productive and healthy than waking up in the afternoon with no coherence for a good few hours. He's had enough stern talks with you throughout your teen years for that.

He really should have trusted his intuitions from observing the first encounter because the early mornings were in fact the only times you could spend with Yassine before training began. And you had learned to adapt to a normal sleep schedule so you could make it work. It was nothing too wild, just a couple of friends walking through the streets of Qatar… hand in hand… or an arm around your waist. You've shifted your sleep schedule and adjusted your body clock to a healthy one after years of being told off for the opposite. "Friends."

The pair of you had exchanged numbers after the Croatia match and couldn’t stop texting/calling/facetiming each other since. Every free minute he had, he rushed to his phone; eagerly checking his notifications and hoping to see the emoji he picked out for you pop up. His friends have began to notice the wide smiles whenever he checks his messages. Yassine, one of the most focussed and dedicated people they know, is all of a sudden counting down the minutes until he can look at his phone again.

“What has gotten into you, man?” Nayef asks, incredulously. Yassine returning from break about 5 minutes late.

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

“Sure, and I'm the queen of england. C’mon, spill.” Hakim retorts. He has a good idea of what's going on but is eager to be entertained by Yassine’s explanation.

“It’s nothing! Look, I’ll check my phone less often. This game is just a little addicting, that's all.”

“I sure hope that this is more than just a game to you.” Hakim smirks, narrowing his eyes as Yassine widens his.

“Huh? In what world does that make any sens- OH MY ALLAH YASSINE YOU LITTLE SNEAK! HOW COULD I FORGET YOU AND-” Yassine shushes the outburst quickly, panicking as he looks around and hoping that no one, especially Walid, has caught wind of that.

“Can you calm down for a second?! Fine, we’ve been talking a little bit here and there, nothing too serious.” he sighs with exasperation, so much for keeping things quiet.

“Please, you’ve practically been glued to that screen since the Croatia match. And this is you we’re talking about! You might as well start buying flowers already!” The boys cackle as Yassine blushes.

“I mean that's just stupid when she’s got a pollen allergy” He mumbles to himself with a small smile. He recalls one of your early morning walks together, opting to walk through one of the botanical gardens.

Your pinkie intertwined with his, you were talking about a show that you thought he would like and in the middle of your excited chatter you paused with a gasp. Your hand leaves his to cover your mouth and nose.

“Everything oka-” You sneeze, he doesn’t think anything could compare to how cute it was. You manage to pause for a second, hurriedly grabbing the medication from your purse and taking a couple of pills, you cover your nose with a tissue, sneezing again. His head is cocked to the side and he’s really trying to hold his smile off.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my misery(!)” You jokingly cry out as you wipe the tears from your eyes. You sigh as the sneezing fit settles.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Would some flowers make it better?” You smack his arm as you laugh together. When you both calm down, he looks at you with a soft stare and you blush under it. He doesn’t mean to but there’s an intensity to him that has blood rushing to your cheeks whenever you make eye contact.

He dips his head down to press a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose and the blush darkens.

You respond by kissing his chin. He follows by kissing your forehead. You peck his cheek and he finally ends the suspense by kissing your lips. He originally intended for it to be quick but the second he makes contact, he can’t let go. They’re so soft and he’s addicted to the taste of the cherry lip balm you applied within seconds. His arms snake around your waist and your hands play with the hair on the back of his neck as he lifts you up in the air. You squeal in surprise and he smiles into the kiss. You reluctantly part to catch your breath but he holds your forehead to his, barely a second passes before he joins your lips again.

He wishes he could live that moment again and again and again…

“Earth to Yassine? Hellooooooooo? Anyone there?” Achraf calls, snapping his fingers and successfully pulling Yassine out of his flashback.

“You’re whipped already and it's been just over a week, man.” Hakim nudges him playfully as a blush returns to Yassine’s face. He’s not wrong.

You’re now sitting at the edge of your seat, smile widening as the extra time against Portugal comes to a close.

That morning, you had managed to sneak Yassine into your room. Your dad decided to give the boys some time to themselves, opting to run the final training session before the match a little bit later. He wanted them calm and well-rested before the most difficult competition they’ve had to face so far. Walid did not have this luxury and had to spend his time confirming all the necessary paperwork for the match. That proved advantageous for you as

You were sat up, with his head resting on your thighs. He relished the softness, loving the feeling of your fingers through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp and you felt comforted as the ache was settled by the weight of his head. You stayed quiet, allowing Yassine to vent all of his concerns about the match ahead. Somewhere in between, you lifted his hand up to your lips and kissed the bandages in an attempt to reassure him just a little bit. He pulls away from the warm of your thighs, lifting himself off to be level with you and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. When you part, his eyes don't leave your own.

“Thank you” he whispers against your lips.

You can see the players pretty well from your seat. The tension was thick in the air as the Portuguese players flowed through the Moroccan defence with more ease than the preceding teams had managed. You see the pass that you’ve been dreading. Felix now has a hold on the ball and is quick to make a shot. You feel the tension leave your body and breathe out a heavy sigh as Yassine comes through with one of his world-class saves. The crowd cheers almost as if Yassine had scored himself. He probably could, knowing him. You can see your father sigh out in relief too, quietly celebrating with the other coaches; there was still a chance. You’d never felt more stress in your life than this.

Half-time is ticking to a close and you don’t have the best view of the free kick from your seat so you make do with squinting. The corner kick looks to have been miscalculated as Costa moves for it but you tense again, a smile making its way onto your face and eyes widening. There's no way.

He’s a second off the mark and you think you can see En-Neysri jump for the chance. The crowd erupts into cheers and you feel the electricity of the moment move through your body as the ball buries itself in the back of the net. You may not see the celebration from that end but you can see Yassine fall to his knees in relief. You can’t wait to see him when it's over.

There have been a couple more anxiety-inducing moments in the second half with Felix and CR7 himself taking multiple shots. You beam with pride as Yassine saves all of them.

One moment has you particularly stressed, however. A collision very similar to the one in that qualifier match has him tumbling to the ground. Your heart stops as you think about how you’re going to jump the barrier if he’s hurt again. The worries simmer down as Yassine gets up quickly, going to comfort and cradle the head of the man who caused the collision in the first place. You laugh with the crowd at the faux-intimate moment and the game continues.

The minutes are now running thin as the defence holds off the Portuguese attack until you finally hear the beautiful sound. The Moroccan team pours onto the field in exuberant celebration. They’ve just made history, done the impossible, and brought pride to so many people. Morocco are the first African nation to make it to the world cup semi-finals. Holy fuck, they've done it. Holy fuck.

You jump and scream with the crowd as the realisation settles in, they did it. Your father immediately races to you, requesting that the guards let you through the barrier as he wraps you in a tight hug. You’re both crying as your father’s hard work has finally proven to be worth it. All those days where your heart broke at his exhaustion, even apparent from the facetime that he’d been losing sleep over this. Those moments have been vindicated finally. Walid brings you onto the pitch to celebrate with the rest of the team. You go to hug Hakim and then run to Achraf who’s still laying on the ground, stunned by the moment. As you walk back to hug your dad once more, your eyes catch Yassine’s and you smile brightly. All you want to do is hug and kiss him but you know better than to make your blossoming relationship public before it's even begun. You also would prefer for your dad to find out before the public rather than with.

When you’re in the bunker, you manage to catch Yassine alone for a second and run over. There are still people around so you know you need to be careful but you have to talk to him. You tap his shoulder and his face breaks into a joyful smile the second he sees you.

“You were amazing out there, you know?”

“It feels so much better hearing it from you, sweetness.” You blush as he bends down to give you a quick peck on the cheek.

He’s then pulled by one of the coaches to the locker room so they can all get the celebration videos they need. The feeling of his lips lingers on yours as he leaves.

The party is buzzing with the excited chatter of players, coaches and family members celebrating the victory. You’re quietly admiring the surroundings and a certain someone brings an immediate grin to your face. He walks up to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look gorgeous, sweets.” a blush appears on your face as you rub little hearts into his palm.

“Could say the same about you” his smile is wide and bright and you wish he could stay this happy forever. You reach to adjust his tie and his hands wrap lightly around your wrists. he looks at you with a sappy, love-drunk haze glossing over his eyes.

Walid and Hakim are once again observing the moment.

“How could this even happen?” Walid asks, utterly confused by the scene unfolding. He may have had suspicions but this is very different.

“Your guess is as good as mine, coach” Hakim replies, amused by the events unfolding.

He feels a phone ring in his pocket, realising that he forgot to return it to you after making an emergency call. He sees the phone background and sighs out loudly in frustration. Its annoyingly adorable: Yassine’s head resting on top of yours as you both smile brightly for the camera

“I ought to talk some sense into him.”

“I get it but anyone can see how happy they look. And Yassine is probably the most reliable and harmless person we know. Maybe it’s worth a chance?” He hates to admit it but Hakim is right. His daughter deserved happiness and if that's with someone as lovely as Yassine, who’s he to stop it from happening?

“I can’t believe this is still going,” Walid comments.

Your relationship with Yassine has stood the test of time. you still look at each other in the same way, he still tells awful jokes, you still laugh and everything is just how it should be. Currently all wrapped up in soft boutique decor and the most luxurious dresses that Yassine insisted on you trying for the upcoming wedding. Walid doesn't catch exactly what Yassine has said but you're doubled over in laughter, the dress you're trying on crumpling on the floor as you try to catch your breath. All of the to-be bridesmaids are laughing too.

Walid would never admit but he’d grown very fond of the relationship himself, it brought him great joy knowing that his beloved daughter was so happy in such safe hands.

“C’mon, you have to admit that its kind of sweet.”

“Whatever” he holds back a smile shaking his head softly at the two of you. Completely and utterly content with each other’s presence.

And thats another bounou fluff complete! sorry that its a bit of a long one, i hope u enjoy anyway my lovelies xxx

#yassine bounou #yassine bono #yassine bounou x reader #yassine bounou imagine #footballer fic #footballer imagine

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stillness-in-green · 1 year

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Chapter Thoughts — Chapter 384: It’s a Small World

Sorry this one’s so late, folks, but in my defense, aside from stuff going on on the irl side, the chapter is also, just, so tiresome. Difficult to muster up even a hint of enthusiasm for talking about. Bad enough that I thought for a while about shelving the chapter posts and getting back to my fanfic. I'm not there yet, not least because once I finally sat down to write it, this post turned out to be fairly short and simple, but we'll see how things look going forward. Lord knows there's no shortage of other writing, fic and meta both, that I could be spending my time on.

Pre-Cut Positivity:

O I like Shinsou’s trembling flinch response when AFO does so small a thing as catch his eye.

O This inset is hilarious:

“Ahhh, the ideal thing to put on for setting the mood on date night—live coverage of a life or death battle for the fate of a country. Honey, break out our best vintage. God, property damage gets me hot.”

(Hit the jump.)

O The brainwashing out is absurd. I feel like it’s the kind of thing you can just look at and tell it was written with the end outcome in mind without taking even a second to think about how the characters in-universe would feel if they didn’t know the outcome. Why?

Well, I mean, think about it. Shinsou’s brainwashing comes undone with “even a mild impact”? And we’re to believe that the heroes thought they could safely prevent All For One from getting one of those in? All For One? The guy who did this at Kamino in less than a second?

(Side Note: I love this spread so much. AFO is the focal point of all this effortless destruction, but he didn't even have to raise a hand to do it. He's a man who should have been six years dead and gone, and, indeed, with his head drooping, his arms loose at his sides, and the way his feet dangle limply, he looks like nothing so much as a hanged corpse. Even death is not enough to stop him—this spread is a masterclass in abrupt terror.)

What exactly were the heroes expecting Mount Lady to do in case of an attack like this? Sure, she can fend off physical stuff like Rivet Claw and the like, but a big AOE attack? She’s not wide enough to make an effective wall for Machia to hide behind. Even if she were, it wouldn’t be enough to completely prevent the shockwave coming through, and complete prevention is what would be needed if even a light impact is enough to break Brainwashing.

Hawks acknowledges it was a risk, but there’s a risk like jumping out of a second-floor window to escape a fire and then there’s a risk like skydiving with no parachute because you once read the story about the woman who survived a six-mile fall from an exploding airplane. There are degrees of risk, that is to say, and I can’t imagine dropping AFO’s most potent and loyal weapon right into his lap being a risk any halfway sensible person would take, knowing that they don’t have squat that would block the effects of a huge area attack—indeed, we and the heroes both know they can’t prevent AFO from carrying out an attack like that, because only two chapters ago, they completely failed to prevent him from blowing Dark Shadow off him with a sky-high explosion. Accordingly, within seconds of Machia's arrival, AFO easily frees him.

It reminds me of a complaint I made about Hawks’ internal monologue about Togawice back in 375—that there are other and more obvious conclusions Hawks could have come to, knowing what he knows, about how Toga came to have a stock of Twice's blood. Instead, he magically deduces the correct answer because Horikoshi already knows what the correct answer is and apparently can’t or won’t allow Hawks to come to a logical but flawed conclusion because of limited information. Here, the heroes are written as taking the risk not because it makes any sense that they would, knowing what they know, but because Horikoshi already knows there is no risk, because he already knows what’s going to happen when Machia gets free.

And what happens when Machia gets free is, of course, an enormous copout, a handwave to prevent Shinsou, the heroes, and the audience from honestly grappling with the ethical quandary Machia’s brainwashing presented. “It’s fine that we mind-controlled Gigantomachia to attack the person he loves most in all the world because actually Machia wanted to attack AFO, so really we were just helping him do something he wanted to do anyway.”

Shh, never mind that no one involved in making the plan for using Machia could possibly have predicted that, nor would Shinsou have even known about it if it weren’t for the fact that Machia is conveniently capable of mumbling while under the effects of brainwashing—which even Midoriya, the other person cited as capable of resisting the brainwashing, was unable to do!

If Machia wants to lash out at AFO for abandoning him, fine. But why do the heroes have to know about that in advance? Why not just let everyone there be surprised? Well, because then we’d all know that the heroes knowingly committed a war crime[1]—can’t have that!

What I would have far preferred is if Shinsou had realized Machia was mumbling and moaning about AFO, dropped the brainwashing, and actually just asked Machia for his help. Would that be a risk? Would people say it was far, far too stupid a risk? But surely it’s not a more stupid risk than bringing Machia to AFO at all, and at least it would have involved one of the students finally manning the fuck up and taking a chance because it's the right thing to do.

A huge part of the heroes’ problem with the villains is that heroes are definitionally reactive. Hero Society lets victims sit and sit and sit in bad situations that only get worse with no one making any attempts to help, until finally a victim snaps and becomes a villain, at which point the heroes instantly turn up with the self-righteous moralizing about how the villains might have legit issues, but when they hurt people, they’ve gone too far.

Nedzu said that the hardest thing was to take the first step to bridge the gap of understanding—Shigaraki and Toga[2] made that effort repeatedly, as best they were capable of doing, and were rebuffed. Now, it’s the heroes that have to take the initiative instead, especially since a handful of them have come around to the idea of wanting to help villains with whom they’ve come to sympathize. But despite wanting to help, have they taken the first step? Lowered their fists and taken the risk of holding out a hand instead?

Well, no. They haven’t.

Deku wants to save Shigaraki, but he did nothing to modulate or gainsay the Sky Coffin plan. Ochaco wants to understand Toga, but she made no attempts to convince the group she was assigned to to give her time to talk to Toga without an entire hero squadron at her back. Shouto’s probably doing the best in this regard, as he asked Dabi for real answers and then gave his big brother time to provide them, but he’s still letting people like Hawks determine the playing field rather than living up to the promise made in Enji’s hospital room, that Touya would be dealt with by the family, as a family.

Shinsou's response to Machia follows the same pattern—while knowing that Machia was angry and betrayed, and apparently sympathetic enough to those feelings to make grand claims about Machia’s heart, Shinsou was not willing to actually bet on that heart, those feelings. None of the heroes were. All they were willing to do was take advantage of them. Their actions remain stunningly unheroic, for all that Horikoshi is trying to disguise it by aligning Machia’s desires with the heroes’ goal.

(Note, of course, that there’s no mention made of what’s going to happen to Machia after his help with AFO’s prospective defeat. All those cities aren’t getting untrampled just because Machia helped with this. And there’s still no word on what Machia might even consider his next priority, and thus what the heroes’ game plan will be if Machia decides said next priority is to help Shigaraki or go sulk in the mountains for another ten years. The easiest solution, and therefore the option I would bet on given my opinions about the writing right now, is for AFO to deal with Machia himself in some fashion that will negate the threat Machia could still represent to the heroes. It’s not like the heroes have done Machia any favors that by rights ought to have won them his good behavior, you know?)

O As an aside, while I still would have had heaps of complaints about the content, a lot of improvements to the story structure of the last few chapters could have been made by swapping out that cliffhanger of Shinsou and Kirishima atop Machia at the end of 382 with a shot of Machia muttering and grumbling something in inarticulate talk bubbles before he hurls the mountain, with the cliffhanger not showing who the mountain is thrown at. While the assumption of the speed-reader would just be that he's helping AFO, it would give an attentive reader just enough of a hint that there was something off about Machia before cutting to the flashback. That way, we'd have had both the set-up on Machia talking to himself while under the brainwashing rather than just having to take Shinsou's word for it, and the flashback would have had some actual tension because we wouldn't have known the outcome coming in.

O No particular thoughts on the journalist angle. It’s a lot of fluffing up of the heroes that they haven’t done anything much to earn in my view. The gal in the pinstripes, in particular, was always a strawman, and not even one allowed to have the most natural grievance that would let the reader sympathize with her—a dead loved one rather than an injured one. I appreciate that at the very least she looks ambivalent rather than rhapsodically won over.

(I would, notably, have quite a lot more to say if the scanlation’s rendering of her lines were even remotely accurate—her blaming herself for the damage caused by the public's loss of faith in heroes would be, like, WOW, such bullshit. But neither Caleb’s translation nor pikahlua’s indicate anything to that effect, so I’ll let that go.)

I’d love it if, for once, the media could catch the heroes in something controversial live on camera rather than just critiquing them after the fact. And at this point, if the controversial thing is Deku trying to talk down a villain rather than punching him into oblivion? Well, that’d present Deku with some much overdue pushback, though not hardly the most interesting source for said pushback.

Better luck next chapter, all. Maybe we can finally see what approach Deku’s going to take with Shigaraki. Or use this nice cutaway to get back to Aoyama and Kunieda; that'd be nice.

[1] Or what would be a war crime if this were a duly declared armed conflict between nations etc. etc.

[2] Given that Dabi’s opening gambit in this regard is a propaganda video, I have a hard time including him in this count. Sorry, Dabs. In fairness, he did spend most of his childhood trying to bridge the gap between himself and Endeavor without success, so he’s perhaps due a bit of fast-forwarding to the Kill Everyone stage it took Shigaraki and Toga most of the series to reach.

#bnha #bnha 384 #purplezawa #gigantomachia #bnha strawman press corps #begging the students to stop letting the adults herd them into these situations where talking is all but impossible #because the villains are so over-the-top threatened by armies of attacking heroes that attempts to talk can only be read as delaying tactic #stillness is tired #my writing #chapter thoughts

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schrijverr · 6 months

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I Dig You 6

Chapter 6 out of 8

Robin is tentatively excited for her first internship: an archaeological dig in the Netherlands, where she has been studying. However, when she gets there, Steve is there too. The dick of their uni that she now has to work with. Great. But being stuck digging for six weeks makes people bond and maybe he isn’t too bad. Maybe he can be her friend.

AKA an archaeology interns, modern, enemies-to-friends stobin au

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

Chapter 6: Town

Steve vetoes the bikes, claiming that if they want the true wandering experience, they’ll have to use their legs. It’s a jock statement, but Robin goes along with it for the vibes, grouching that the next time they have an adventure, they’re using bikes.

It’s not until Steve laughs: “Okay, Robs, next time we’ll bike,” that she realizes how presumptuous that was, though Steve doesn’t seem to mind, which relaxes her a little.

The camping is not too far, but also not too close to town, so they have to walk over a country road there. A country road here basically means no sidewalk, bike lanes on both sides and cars that drive a little too fast than is legally allowed. So, they’re walking in the ditch.

Robin keeps her head to the ground, a habit she has developed as an archaeologist, unable to stop herself from looking for finds. Steve seems to suffer from a similar predicament, since they nearly get hit by an angry biker when he spots a cool rock and goes to grab it.

Neither of them know what the man yells at them as he swerves, but they giggle about it when the shock wears off. Then Robin agrees with Steve that the rock is very cool and totally worth becoming roadkill over.

There are a lot of corn fields around, however, there are also cows, which Robin forces them to stop at, because she fucking loves cows. In her humble opinion, they are the coolest.

Steve sighs as they look over the grazing cows and says: “I miss home sometimes, even though it kinda sucked.”

“Yeah?” Robin asks, unsure if she is capable of having this conversation. “Had a lot of cows?”

“God yeah, cows and God that’s all we have there,” Steve laughs. “Truly fucking Bumfuck, America, you know?”

“Not really, didn’t grow up religious. We had a petting zoo we went to each year in primary school,” Robin says. “The pigs were huge, one girl nearly got crushed once. It was brutal.”

Steve snorts loudly at that and shakes his head fondly. “Pigs are mean bastards. They know malice. Cows don’t.”

“I know right!” Robin agrees excitedly. “Cows are unable to form thoughts and that makes them the best.”

“I like chickens more,” Steve says.

“Blasphemy,” Robin exclaims, clutching non-existent pearls, which makes Steve laugh again.

“Chickens are evil and stupid, which is the best combination for any animal, who can’t easily do a lot of damage. Like a cat. Forcefully contained rage.”

“That only makes them more scary,” Robin argues.

“No, that makes them perfect,” Steve rebuts.

“You’re a weirdo, Harrington,” Robin informs him. “I’ll keep an eye out for chickens on this road to hell you have us on.”

“It’s like a half an hour walk to town, you drama queen,” Steve says.

“That’s twenty-five minutes too long,” Robin replies, deliberately dramatic as they continue on, leaving the cows behind.

They don’t see any chickens, but they do see more corn and a lot more horses than should be reasonable for the town size. The two of them can agree that horses are just evil and cannot be trusted.

The town itself exists of a likely population of about 4.000 people and has two churches, one protestant and one catholic. There is one big road with local stores that is connected to the one square in town.

The square is also the place that holds the Albert Heijn, which they are more familiar with. Robin has noticed that there were a few places to eat there, but Steve insists they eat somewhere else than the one place they already know.

However, one look at Google Maps informs them that unless they plan to walk far out of town on the opposite side to the camping they’re staying on, there isn’t another place they can eat.

“We can go to the fries place and get to go,” Robin offers as a compromise when Steve starts to frown, obviously having his mind set on it.

“Yeah, that can work,” Steve says, brightening at her solution. “We should first pick where to eat it, so our food won’t get cold.”

“What happened to wandering?” Robin asks. “Isn’t a lack of planning part of wandering?”

“I didn’t say wandering, I said adventure. You can plan in an adventure. Plus, cold fries are disgusting,” Steve retorts, wrinkling his nose.

Robin is pretty sure the word ‘wander’ was used in Steve’s pitch, but she also doesn’t like cold fries and it was more to tease anyway, so she gives in pretty easily and zooms in on a random green spot on the map, declaring: “That place looks pretty good.”

“Then that place it is,” Steve declares.

Together they go over to the fries place where it becomes clear that the owner has never needed to speak a word of English in his life. He’s old with a red nose and a smoker’s voice, loudly talking with customers, who are likely regulars, since tourism doesn’t exist this far out.

He greets the two jovially when they enter and Robin knows a bit of Dutch, but this guy has the heaviest accent she has ever heard, though while she can guess that he likely asked what they wanted to order and some comment about the day, the weather or them, she has no clue what he actually said.

Steve gives him an apologetic smile, thankfully speaking for both of them as he says in a broken accent: “Ik spreek slecht Nederlands.”

The guy frowns and replies: “Wa’ zedde nou? Waar komme ge dan vandaan?”

“What?” Steve asks.

“Wat. Jij. Hier. Doen?” the guy asks.

“Oh, internships. Uhm, stage?” Steve answers.

One of the other guy yells something and the man behind the counter laughs as he replies. Robin is feeling a lot like a two headed sheep in a cabinet of curiosity, so she anxiously hovers behind Steve like some sort of shadow monster, content to not be a part of the interaction.

Steve gets the man’s attention again, before the whole local population can become a part of the conversation and add their two cents while they stand there awkwardly. “Kannen wij eten krijgen- kopen?”

“Ja, zegge maar wa’ ge wilt,” the guys says, before realizing he’s being incomprehensible for them again. He corrects himself with: “Oh, ik bedoel. Wat wil jij eten?” talking slowly, loudly and

“Twee keer friet,” Steve says then turns to Robin asking: “What snack do you want and do you want a sauce?”

“No sauce,” Robin says, they primarily offer mayo with fries here and she doesn’t like it. “And chicken nuggets if they have them.”

“Alrighty,” Steve says, then turns back to the guy adding: “One- een met mayo, een met niks. Een keer bitterballen and een keer kipnuggets?”

“Ik heb ‘t, ‘n keer friet, ‘n keer frietje met, bitterballen en kipnuggets,” the guy repeats. “Kom eraan. Hebbie contant of pinnen?”

Robin has no clue what the guy is saying and she can see that Steve doesn’t either. However, the last part they understand; money. Steve holds up his card and repeats: “Pinnen.”

“Ga je gang,” the man says, gesturing to the little machine on the counter.

Steve holds his card up to it and it beeps, Robin doesn’t think that either of them knows how much he has paid until the man hands him the receipt and tells them something that likely means wait, since he naturally can’t magically have their food already.

What follows next are a few of the most awkward minutes of Robin’s life as the local population tries to talk to these new curiosities (namely them), while neither of them really speak each other’s language.

Robin has never been good at this and all of her language knowledge is from books and Duolingo, who didn’t have accents. She can make out one word out of every ten.

Steve, however, seems more at ease under the scrutiny, trying to talk with his hands and feet as much as he can to have some semblance of communication while they wait. He also seems to have a good enough grasp on the language to catch more than Robin does, something that surprises her, despite having noted it before. She wonders what that is about.

Then the guy calls out to them, yelling: “Oi, toeristen, eten!” two words Robin does understand, because they’re pretty simple, tourists and food, pretty good description, if she’s honest.

They go to get their food and the guy waves at them as they leave. They say goodbye and get a: “Houdoe!” back, a locality Robin guesses, since it’s completely unfamiliar.

The town isn’t big, so the park isn’t far despite not being near the square, relatively speaking. So, they make their way down the back street, looking at the shops there. There is naturally a hairdresser, a few bigger brand stores as well as some local ones. There is a fancier looking restaurant with a coffeeshop next to it and a doctor’s office next to that.

Robin can’t help but point it out to Steve, saying: “Look, you can eat, get high, make a dumb decision and then go to the doctor for it.”

Steve follows her finger and snorts: “Don’t remind me. Do you know how long it took me before I realized coffeeshops don’t sell coffee?”

That makes Robin laugh, she herself never went out looking for weed – it isn’t her thing and she doesn’t want to do it alone, so she never did. She learned what coffeeshops here meant, because a fellow student shared an awkward experience of trying to order coffee at one of them.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Steve squawks, though he’s laughing too. “I asked a very nice looking old lady about where to find a coffeeshop and she looked scandalized. I got a whole lecture and a bible from her. I don’t even know why she carried a bible with her.”

His explanation only makes Robin laugh more and she calls him a dingus. It’s nice to joke around with someone and she suddenly remembers the sad thoughts she had actually managed to forget for a second.

In an attempt to banish them as quickly as they came, she asks: “Did you ever smoke weed?”

“A few times with Tommy, but the charm wore off after a while. He gets familiar when high and it’s uncomfortable,” Steve says, wrinkling his nose.

Robin has the distinct displeasure of meeting Tommy a few times – though mostly seeing him from a distance – so she can imagine. “That sucks,” she sympathizes, because getting unwanted attention sucks. As a lesbian she kinda knows about that.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, though with a shrug, like it wasn’t that big a deal. Robin doesn’t want to pry and isn’t sure how to ask about it, so she stays quiet. Steve breaks the quiet by asking: “And what about you? Ever smoked?”

“Nah, that’s bad for you, like with your lungs. If you develop a more permanent cough, you can see that on your ribs and that’s for forever,” Robin says, sounding anxious about it. She has always been someone who thinks of the worst case scenarios.

“Valid. Pot brownies are way nicer anyways. And pot cookies. Julia makes great ones, she got the recipe from her grandma apparently,” Steve says.

“Her grandma?” Robin repeats incredulously.

“Yeah, she says that her grandma was a hippie, used weed before it was even legal here,” Steve tells her.

“That is wild.”

“I know right,” Steve agrees. “But that is a no to buying weed?”

“No, unless they sell cookies. They don’t sell those, do they?” Robin asks, sounding horribly naive to her own ears, though Steve isn’t a judgmental person. If it hadn’t been him, she’d have faked her way through this whole conversation.

“Nah, though there is a bakery thingy that does, I think. I haven’t really looked into it,” Steve shrugs. “I think we have to go left up there.”

“Alright,” Robin says, trusting him blindly. He hasn’t gotten them lost so far. “So, what are bitterballen anyway?” she asks.

“You haven’t had one? How long have you been here? They’re on every terrace!” Steve exclaims, practically scandalized.

“Do I look like I go to terraces?” Robin shoots back, not even ashamed about it to get her dunk in.

“Fair enough,” Steve says, though it’s not mean. “I just can’t believe it. They’re so good. Want to try one?”

“First tell me what the fuck they are, dingus,” Robin says, it’s easier to ask that knowing that Steve is a picky eater too.

“It’s basically a croquette, but then a little ball. So a ball of shredded meat in bread crumbs that’s fried,” Steve explains. “I was skeptical about them, but they’re very nice.”

“I might try one,” Robin says tentatively.

“Yay,” Steve cheers as they round yet another corner, finally arriving to their destination.

The green spot on the map turns out to be a playground. It has two soccer goals, a seesaw, slide merry-go-round and a couple of swings as well as picnic table and a zip line.

Spotting the goals, Robin says: “I played soccer as a kid. We had this goalie on the team, Beth Wildfire, this other girl slid into her leg and the bone came out of her knee. Six inches or something. It was insane.”

“Jikes,” Steve winces. “No soccer for you.”

“It wasn’t me!” Robin protests, following Steve to the picnic tables and taking a seat across from him. “I was totally fine. I never played much anyway, I was always too busy with the flowers that bloomed on the field. My mom hoped I’d be a star player, but my dad loved that I was a free spirit in tune with nature, but I stopped soccer anyway. Wasn’t for me. Especially when we got older, at some point the changing room becomes more uncomfortable.”

“That sucks,” Steve sympathizes and this time it is her turn to shrug. It did kind of suck, but she got used to being hyper-aware when changing with other girls around. Life of a lesbian, you know?

They pull out their fries and attack, both of them hungry after the day of manual labor. Robin wrinkles her nose at the mayo on Steve’s fries, they’re absolutely lathered in it and she doesn’t know how he’s not gagging.

It’s the fact that he’s willingly eating that, that makes her cautious about the bitterbal he offers for her to try.

However, in the end she is curious and they look harmless. She doesn’t mind fried stuff, nor bread crumbs and the inside doesn’t look slimy, which are all wins. So, she trades a chicken nugget for a bitterbal and is pleasantly surprised that it is good, like Steve had claimed.

“I don’t lie,” he says smugly when she informs him of that.

“Don’t get a big head, Harrington. Your hair is too big already, if it gets any bigger to match your new big head, you’d be ridiculous,” Robin snarks.

“My hair is perfect,” Steve pouts, running his hand through it.

“Yeah, unnecessarily perfect. We’re digging all day, I don’t know how it’s not a sweaty mess at the end of every day,” Robin complains.

“It’s because it’s full of secrets,” Steve tells her with a smirk.

“Was that Mean Girls? Did you just quote Mean Girls at me?” Robin asks, disbelieving.

“What? Like it’s hard,” Steve smirks back.

“And that’s Legally Blonde!” Robin exclaims.

“Robin, I fucking love teen girl movies, how have you not realized this?” Steve asks.

“Because you’re continuously surrounded by assholes like Tommy, who wears toxic masculinity like it’s some sort of battle armor a girls like Carol, who would unironically say that a man telling her ‘I love you’ is gay, or a priss like Nancy,” Robin explodes, because she doesn’t know how else to express feeling guilty for all the assumptions she made.

“I’ve kind of stopped hanging around most of them,” Steve shrugs. “But that is a recent development. Those movies were kinda guilty pleasures, but I’m starting to embrace them.”

“As you should, they’re masterpieces,” Robin says. “And it’s kinda not my place and I didn’t know them, but good for you for stopping hanging out with them. They always looked mean and not very good friends.”

“They weren’t, just all I had, until I got here,” Steve shrugs, popping a fry into his mouth. Then he randomly asks: “Wanna go of the zip line with me when you’re done?”

“Of course I wanna go of the zip line, who do you take me for? Someone who doesn’t know how to have fun?” Robin replies immediately.

Steve lights up and he looks a little surprised, like he’d expected her to shut him down. Robin doesn’t get what about her made him think she wouldn’t want to, but then again, a lot of people shoot down her ideas, even when they’re good and not weird, so she gets it too.

“Hell yeah,” he cheers and starts eating quicker, something Robin mirrors immediately, now also excited for the zip line. Maybe they can see how high they go. She hasn’t been on a swing in forever.

A/N:

Cows and chickens are my two favorite animals. I fucking love farm animals (but that may be due to the fact that I love farming, lmao (no im not really a farmer I just study it and grew up around it))

I put a lot of work into writing the fries guy’s accent, even though a lot of people reading this don’t even speak Dutch, so wouldn’t even notice if it was normal Dutch, but I am a perfectionist weirdo like that xp

Personally, I don’t fuck with drugs (which is also why I won’t be embarrassing myself in an attempt to write them being high lmao), but my sister does and she indeed has the recipe for weed cookies from my grandma, shout out <3

#rr writing #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin #stobin au #archaeologists stobin au #tommy hagen mention #carol perkins mention #nancy wheeler mention

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kaiarob77 · 1 year

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Migration has always been a big factor of life itself. Animals migrate just like humans do. I personally would tsay America is one big migration in and of itself. Even though there were already natives here originally many people from different countries migrated to America for many different reasons. Some were forced to migrate. Some immigrated to “discover” new land. Some time after that lots of people were forced to migrate here through slavery. Later on some migrated to get away from their life style and to make a new one. Most people nowadays like to believe that migration wasn’t the best idea and try to get certain people removed which isn’t fair to those who fought to have a better life. Immigration can be looked at as good and bad in the eyes of the beholder yet and still everybody has their own reasons like ms. Teresa here she originally moved here as an interpreter and later one started her journey as a nurse.

Teresa is from Haiti. Haiti is located between Cuba Jamaica the Bahamas and boarders with DR. A tropical island with people that speak French because they were colonized by the French speak creole. (She learned 5 other languages on top of French)

Moving to the US wasn’t her original plan, she was young, she chose to study outside of her country after high school. she went to mexico for university. Her plan was to go back to Haiti but her country went through coup d’ecat right after he finishing her university. Unfortunately her country was in civil war so she couldn’t go back. She had to settle with a tourist visa for vacation to visit family which wasn’t her immediate family. when to coup d’ecat happened there was no opportunity to go back home. So she was here with happiness and sadness, And didn’t know when it was going to end. She was still under the support of her family.

Now what is next for a young foreigner female in America. Is was not easy she had to adapt to a totally new culture. She also had to start learning English to be able to communicate and fit in. unfortunately the war took more time then expected(1year). going back to her visa situation her official stay was supposed to be three months, through immigration lawyer she got an extension of two more months just to be able to start a process of how she can legally stay in America. Her plan of life has totally changed. After family wise socializing and economic wise. She has now to put her own personal train behind. To start the American dream. And what exactly is the American dream? A beautiful country?, money?, diversity? Freedom? Yes the dream is a little bit of everything but not totally the truth becauseAmerica to her is a school of life where you have to embrace things, learn things, experience good and bad. being a foreigner you get the maturity faster because without it you will not survive you must know why your here and you have to have a goal. In one world for her.

“america is not your dream but for you to make it your dream you have to work to make it happen.”

“In one world and immigrant life in America has its good traits (discovering new cultures, freedom of speech, the value of life, even animals have their place in society) and the people themselves are warm and happy even politically isn’t the greatest. Especially their international politics are bad. But stilll as an immigrant may god bless America. Loud and clear.”

What I got from this interview was that life will throw curve balls at you all the time but no matter what you have to find you way back on track to get to your original goal

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baglove · 1 year

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(via cat lovers Mask by mohammed elhachimi)

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chill out city claire andrews claireandrewss classic clout clout goggles college colour colourful country cowabunga dancing, skeleton dark blue dead head death designs disco dolphin donut doodle dorm down drake dude edm elephant elephants emoji eno equal pay eyes fall fat buddha fist floral flower flowers font four stars fries fruit fry funds fye gd50 girl gang girl girl girls

#findyourthing #redbubble

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iguana-eyanna · 3 years

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Sixteen: Peter Parker Headcanon

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

Summary: Peter feels a bit out of place when you invite him to your Sweet 16

People said you were a carbon copy of your father: flamboyant, witty, spontaneous, and on the occasion, flirty

But you only had eyes for your sweet boyfriend, Peter Parker

When Peter started to work as Spider-Man for your father, Tony Stark, you became great friends

You were a very outgoing person while Peter was a shy kid

Guess you can say opposites attract

He was actually surprised when you started flirting with him

He really liked you, truly

He just didn't want to take that chance of his idol blasting him off of a building

Tony took notice of your "friendship" and told Peter he had nothing to worry about

"If you make her happy, that's more than enough for me." Tony said

Tony gave Peter permission to ask you on a date

Your dad may or may not have placed a tracker on you when you guys head out in the city for your date(s)

For your safety of course

You were not too happy with that

Fast forward to a few weeks later, you're about to turn 16

Of course, your dad is gonna go all out for your birthday

He already planned the caterers, the DJ, even got you a custom-made dress for your party

Your dad starts sending out invites to everyone

and when I mean everyone, I mean everyone

You probably don't know half of your guest list, but it was just Tony going all out for his firstborn

He loves you so much and he wants you to experience things

He never had a present father, so he wanted to be the best father he could be for you

Everyone was excited about your birthday

Peter was a bit skeptical

He knows about Mr. Stark's over-the-top parties, so he wanted to be prepared

When Peter knew your birthday was coming up, he made sure to work really hard for your gift

He worked at the local deli after school

He took pictures for the Daily Bugle on the side as they started going digital

He even walked dogs even if they terrified him

Just so he could earn money to buy a perfect gift for you

He brings Aunt May as his plus one to your party

You love her to death as Peter often brought you back to his apartment

You bonded over Chow Mein as it was one of your favorite dishes

So when the elevators opened and saw all the extravagance in the building, Peter visibly gulped

All of the food, drinks, balloons, lights, even the guests were decorated with purple

May sees Happy eating a cupcake, so she tells Peter to place hers and Peter's gift on the table

Peter walks up to it and sees how big each present were

He didn't have to see that all of them were expensive (and let's face it, Tony probably went all out for some presents)

He places May's gift where there was a bit of space left and was about to place his until-

"Hey handsome," you said as you approached Peter

He puts his very small present back in his jacket and turns to look at you

"You look gorgeous." Peter whispered under his breath

You wore a purple puff sleeve dress with white heels

"Not too bad yourself." you teased back as you see Peter wore a faded purple button shirt and a blazer, matching with a dark lavender bowtie

He rolls his eyes and hugged you tightly, missing you as he has been working a lot, on top of patroling

"C'mon, let's get something to eat." you said, yanking his hand to try out the food

You grabbed two taro boba drinks as he grabbed ube bread grilled cheese for snacks

He never tried taro or ube, but immediately fell in love with it once you began to eat

Because of your dad, you’re always exposed to new foods and cultures

You even went to study abroad in Japan and South Korea before you met your Spidey

Peter thinks it’s so cool that you've been exposed to so many things

You've traveled to exotic countries and you were fluent in numerous languages

You explained how your dad wanted you to be exposed to all cultures and to appreciate them

You even told Peter of your dreams to be an ambassador for some sort of international organization

Peter loved how passionate you were

He almost forgot how he was feeling a bit glum until one of your friends stole you to dance with them on the dance floor

He smiles at you having fun and decided to just step out to get some air

Peter looks down in the city, lost in thought

"Why the long face, Parker?" Tony asked out loud, joining him on the terrace

"Oh! Sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn't want to be a party pooper." Peter said, trying to fake a smile

Tony pats his young pupil on the back. "I know when you're not alright, kid. What's wrong?"

Peter takes a deep breath and looks at Mr. Stark

"I'm starting to think that I'm not good enough for your daughter."

Tony lightly chuckles at Peter's comment but realizes the boy was telling the truth

"You can't be serious. Both of you are crazy about each other!" Tony said

Peter takes a step back and sits on a chair

"Sir, with all due respect, coming here tonight made me realize something. I can't give her the world or take her out on fancy trips. I almost broke an arm and a leg, even a bite mark from a dog to get her a birthday present." Peter said, taking out a small wrapped box from his jacket

Tony sits opposite of him and takes off his glasses to look at the young boy

"It's not about how much money you spend on a person you care about. It's about how much love you give to them. Yes, I admit, I tend to go a bit overboard with celebrating my daughter."

Peter laughs a bit and smiles at the joke, and Tony continues his speech.

"But it's because I love her. I want her to experience everything in this world, and she deserves it. She's a respectful, hardworking young woman and I am in awe of her ever since day one. I am proud of the person she is today. Most importantly, she makes her own decisions and selects people she wants to spend her time with: and one of those people are you."

As if on cue, you come outside to the terrace to catch your breath

"Hey! What are you two doing out here?" you said, flashing a blinding smile like your old man

The two get up from their chairs and Tony goes up to you

"Just talking about my greatest creation." Tony said

You laugh and roll your eyes, hugging him

"Thank you dad, for tonight." You say

Tony kisses the top of your head and pulls away

"You deserve it, every single second of it." Tony says, then turns to Peter and places a hand on his shoulder

"Let the parent worry about everything else. You do the job of loving and respecting her, ok?" Tony whispers

Peter nods his head firmly and Tony makes his way out to give you two space

You make your way to the edge of the terrace, admiring the city lights in the dark sky

Peter inches closer to you

"The party's been amazing so far." Peter said, admiring your features in the city lights

You smile back at him and lean backward on the bar

"It's more special that you're here." You said, leaning your head on his shoulder

He leans closer to you, taking in your scent of lavender

"There's something that I want to give you." he whispers as he looks at you

He then grabs the small wrapped box and offers it to you

"Happy Birthday." he whispers

You lightly gasp and softly hold it in your hands

"Peter, you know that your presence here is more than enough." you said

He doesn't answer as he panics on the inside as you slowly unwrap his gift

You stop as you finally see what's inside of it, your eyes starting to water

Peter starts panicking more, worried

"I'm so sorry, I know it's not much-"

You cut him off

"What are you talking about? This is beautiful!" you acclaimed, looking at the pink heart-shaped necklace

Peter releases a breath and smiles at his accomplishment

"I've had my eye on this for awhile... I wanted to show you that no matter where you go, you'll always have my heart."

You hug Peter from his statement, beginning to cry once again

"Can you put it on me?" you ask

He nods his head as you turn around to fix your hair away from your neck

After taking out the necklace, he delicately wraps it around your neck

You turn around and move your thumb back and forth on the charm

"How does it look?" you question

"Perfect" Peter says, wrapping his arms around your waist

You both slowly lean in with each other, placing your head on his chest as you sway back and forth with faded music playing in the background

You look up to Peter, leaning forward for a kiss

He follows your cue until-

"Hey, Birthday girl! Time for cake!" Happy said

You both huff as you look at your godfather

"Thanks, Uncle Happy." you chuckle as he closes the door, giving a side-eye at Peter

You press a fast kiss on his lips and take his hand

You then see your dad take out your cake with sparkling candles

Everyone sings happy birthday (a bit off-key, but you secretly loved it)

You blow them out and everyone yells in celebration

Peter snakes his hand around your waist, feeling his worries melt away as he enjoyed the festivities

He knew you loved him with all of your heart, and that was more than enough

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x stark!reader #spider man #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagine #spiderman fic #spiderman #spiderman no way home #spiderman homecoming #tom holland #tom holland x reader

188 notes · View notes

writerpeach · 3 years

Text

Lights & Cameras

Jeon Somi x Male Reader

5575 words

Categories: smut, daddy kink, rough sex, dirty talk

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

masterlist

Three hours. Endless outfit changes. Barely an hour for lunch.

Jeon Somi had done photo shoots before, both as part of a group and as a soloist, for commercials and for album covers, but she had never had the focus be on her just like this. Her beautiful face was going to be on the cover of a magazine for the very first time for the entire country to see.

It took countless people to make a magazine shoot run smoothly. Stylists, photographers, directors, makeup artists, interns, and a plethora of untold staff members whose titles were unbeknownst to you.

Somi’s first magazine shoot was exciting. If she was nervous, she hid it well, radiating confidence behind the camera as hundreds of flashes went off every second.

You had lost track of how many times you saw Somi disappearing from the set into her personal dressing room, reemerging in an outfit that either tantalized or confused you. Each ensemble brought out several emotions and at least one change that left you scratching your head.

Fashion never made sense.

There wasn’t a moment behind the cameras that Somi wasn’t swarmed by staff - fixing her hair, touching up makeup, and preparing her for the next set of blinding lights. Somi basked in it all, she loved the attention and loved every moment of being in the spotlight.

You weren’t hired by anyone, yet had one of the most important jobs in the building.

Your job was just to be there. You were a familiar face to the gorgeous young model, keeping the couch warm in the first-story studio where you could be seen at all times when Somi felt a pit in her stomach from being overwhelmed.

One look into your eyes across the distance brought a bright smile to Somi’s lipstick painted lips, one that melted you like a hot summer’s day.

Another outfit change. One more shade of lipstick applied to her lips, her cheeks now a shade of pink instead of red. The fumes of hairspray lingered in the air as her dark big brim hat was swapped out by a simple white ball cap and blue sunglasses.

Truth be told, Somi could make any outfit look good. Whether it be tall high heels that almost made her trip, short skirts that showed off her amazing legs, or puffy coats that she looked adorable in, anything and everything looked great on Somi. You’re pretty sure she could make an astronaut’s spacesuit look sexy.

Somi loved dressing up, wearing expensive clothes and outfits she only dreamed about, each time she was presented with something new feeling giddier than a kid in a candy store.

This outfit you particularly liked on Somi, a rather long green dress that almost touched the ground, perfect for summertime. At first glimpse it seemed to cover her up, the sacrifice worth it as it did a terrific job of hugging her body nicely, leaving her shoulders bare and just a tease of her exposed back.

The best part of her fancy dress was how good her tits looked in it. Her wide hips were plainly visible, curves everywhere and outlining her delicious backside, the perfect woman.

Four hours in, Somi's energy level was just as high as at the start. Perhaps it was your company, or the high of her first solo photo shoot that kept her spirits lifted, filling her tank to get her through the rest of the day.

Bright lights went off again as Somi rotated through a myriad of poses, from sensual, to serious, to downright goofy, conveying a multitude of expressions that seemed to please the director.

Somi was a natural, the camera was in love with her and the feeling was mutual. You couldn’t hear her cute voice over the constant shutter sounds of the camera drowning out her playful laughter, but you knew she was having the time of her life.

Sitting there for hours at a time might have been dull as a spectator, but not so much as you loved watching Somi in different outfits and different styles of makeup. She stepped back into the dazzling lights appearing as an almost completely different person.

The brightly lit set became flooded with staff again. Somi was handed a bottle of water to her left, while on her right someone wiped her brow carefully with a white towel, heading out of view as if that were their only job.

“Thirty minute break!”

An echoing voice from the director rattled the walls as a much needed break was called. Somi was filled to the brim with unlimited energy as she headed to catering and you followed in her footsteps.

The catering table was surrounded in no time flat, trays of pastries and sweets spread out, an assortment of fruits and cheeses, sandwiches and skewered meats all made up a fantastic spread.

“Oh my god, I’m starving,” Somi said as she picked up a plate, stuffing it as high as she could, not even bothering to take a seat as she stuffed her face, forgoing the image she was portraying as a model as soon as she took her first bite.

“What do you think so far?” Somi asked as she found you, mumbling her words as she talked with her mouth full as she approached your position.

“You must be bored out of your mind.”

You shook your head and smiled. “I don’t mind. You look cute wearing all these outfits.”

“Which one was your favorite?” she asked, practically inhaling a bite of strawberry cheesecake.

“I liked the pink dress. And the white top with the jeans. This dress looks really nice on you too,” you said, trying your best not to stare at her chest while dozens of eyes were on you.

“I like it too. It’s light and comfortable and I can move around in it freely. Some of those other dresses I could barely walk in,” she said, annoyed.

Somi waited for a handful of staff members to pass by, exchanging polite bows and smiling as they headed off with equally filled plates.

“I want you to take it off me,” she whispered, flashing a mischievous smile, one that had you seen before.

“You want me to help you change?”

Somi shook her head cutely, keeping her lips pressed close enough to your ear that you could feel her hot breath nuzzling your earlobe.

“I want you to fuck me in this dress, daddy.”

Thankfully nobody was in earshot.

“It’s going to be several more hours before I’m finished shooting. There’s a spare dressing room in the back that nobody is using...” she playfully said, her expression the same as when she tried to convince you her vibrator was a neck massager.

“You’re bad, Somi,” you said, her gaze agreeing with you as you stared into each other’s eyes as if you were wondering what you were about to get into.

You took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Lead the way. I’ll stay a few steps behind you.”

Somi nodded gleefully, putting her half finished food down on the nearest table.

“I’ll uh, be back. I think something I ate didn’t agree with me,” she announced, letting the staff know she wasn’t going to be available for the time being.

If your calculations were correct the break was called about ten minutes ago, leaving you with twenty minutes left, yet also Somi leaving herself an excuse if extra time was needed.

But twenty minutes was more than enough time for what you wanted to do to her.

You carefully followed Somi, taking care to leave additional space in trailing her as you weaved through makeup tables and desks full of equipment, disappearing behind the set as your heart raced at what was about to happen.

“Come on,” she said, waving you down a long dark corridor and looking behind her as she took purposeful steps. Shortly after, she opened a door and stepped inside, ushering you in as the two of you looked around, making sure the coast was clear before entering.

Somi entered first, locking the door behind you as her lips smirked. She placed her hat and sunglasses on a nearby countertop, ruffling her hair messily.

“You’re so naughty, Somi.”

“Am I? What are you going to do with me?” she asked, putting her arms behind her back.

Stepping closer, you moved her hair out of her neck, planting your lips on her soft skin and sucked for several seconds, careful not to leave a mark. You took each of her dress straps in your fingertips, playing with them as you looked deeply into her eyes.

She stared back as if to say do it as you pulled the top of her dress down to her waist in one swift movement, exposing her full supple breasts as they bounced freely. You kissed up her stomach, marking her soft skin with your mouth until you reached her large heavy breasts, practically drooling all over her chest.

It was regretful that you couldn’t spend the entire hour worshipping her perfect tits, lips closing around a sensitive nipple that had already hardened as you latched on, sucking gently while you squeezed her free breast.

“F-fuck, daddy,” Somi moaned, as you took your time in sucking her tits, enjoying the sounds of satisfaction she released as your lips wrapped around each of her nipples, covering them in your saliva.

You loved Somi’s huge breasts as much as you loved breathing, the threat of a deadline hovering over her almost didn’t deter as you devoured her breasts.

Your pants tightened as you alternated breasts, slurping loudly and slicking up her stiff pink nipples with your tongue, leaving them swollen and doused in drool as you gave equal attention.

“I wish I could suck these all day,” you said, giving a disappointed look as you kept your focus on her beautiful tits, squeezing and kneading them, never wanting to leave your hands from them.

“I want you to do just more than suck them, daddy,” Somi said, moaning at your touch. You simply couldn’t get enough of her delicious tits, biting her swollen nipples as she whined and threw her head back.

Somi’s attention shifted to the bulge in your pants, and without another word she lowered to her knees and began to undo your pants. Her needy hands cupped your crotch, giving a firm squeeze.

She looked up for a second before she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your thin boxers, yanking them down with power and unleashing your stiff erection as her eyes widened, her lips smiling hungrily.

Her gaze never broke as she rubbed your leaking tip on her stiff nipples, spreading precum on and using your shaft to slap her large breasts with your cock. Somi loved getting your hungry shaft ready for what she was about to do, but no amount of work would ever truly prepare you for what was next.

Somi opened her mouth without a word, spitting on your shaft several times and stroked your cock furiously, lubricating you nicely with her own saliva. She took control of your shaft, placing it in the comfort of her pillowy soft breasts, trapping it as you moaned at the warmth enveloping your hard shaft.

Her chest began moving slowly, massaging your throbbing shaft and causing a torrent of pleasure as she created orgasmic friction, causing your shaft to twitch. Your cock had no chance to escape, surrounded by flesh that wrapped around it, causing your breath to be taken away as several sensations flooded your body.

Somi had the biggest grin on her face as she squeezed her tits around your cock firmly, using her hands to cup them and make sure you weren’t going anywhere besides her abundant cleavage.

“How does it feel daddy? You love fucking my big tits, don’t you?” she pointlessly asked, picking up the pace just enough to drive you wild with intoxicating pleasure. Your eyes were glued to her huge tits, watching your cock disappearing, every inch of throbbing flesh being swallowed up by her lubricated cleavage.

“Fuck yes, baby. It feels so damn good,” you replied, matching her rhythm and helping pump your shaft in between her tits, so much warm flesh hugging you tight that never wanted to let you go.

You couldn’t help but moan freely at the intense pleasure. You loved the way your leaking cock felt snuggled in between her cleavage, you wanted it to stay there forever. Her breasts felt so soft, softer than silk as you thrusted endlessly, savoring every moment of ecstasy.

Somi loved the feeling of your hard cock trapped between her sizable tits just as much as you did, trying to lick the sensitive head of your cock when it showed itself again, adding additional spikes of pleasure each time she succeeded.

You were more than content to keep this up, keep the incredible pleasure going until you couldn’t take anymore, but things were just getting started.

“Daddy…” Somi whined, moving her breasts up and down as you thrusted in her deep suffocating cleavage.

“What is it, baby?”

“I want to suck your cock. I’m still hungry,” she said, anxiously waiting for permission.

“So suck my cock.”

Somi gave an ear to ear grin as you pumped yourself in between her chest a handful more times as she slowly let your cock slip out of her tits, rubbing it between her wet cleavage. Her delicate small hand wrapped around your shaft, throbbing at her touch as she stroked your cock up and down gently from base to tip.

"You're so hard, daddy,” Somi hummed, pumping your shaft and squeezing it tighter as you leaked over her slender fingers, giving your shaft a single solitary lick from base to tip, proudly tasting your precum.

“So yummy,” she said, giving repeated licks of your cock, teasing the sensitive underside of your shaft, causing more fluids to leak out of your slit.

You would have loved Somi to spend more time teasing your cock, but time was of the essence here. She planted a soft wet kiss on your swollen tip, followed by another, kissing up and down your throbbing shaft and leaving her lips everywhere she could.

“This is much better than our catering,” Somi giggled, her voice full of desire and need, her wet tongue roaming every inch of your shaft. She pressed her lips on your flesh for one more deep kiss, causing a loud smacking sound to escape.

Her beautiful lips parted as the head of your cock disappeared inside her mouth, Somi sucking ever so softly on your tip and nothing more, causing you to groan softly at the intense sudden pleasure.

“Fuck, baby…”

Nothing ever matched the way Somi sucked your cock. Her small soft lips wrapped tightly around your cock, staring intently at you as her cheeks hollowed, applying the perfect amount of suction. Her mouth felt incredible, warm and wet in all the right ways. She took you deeper into her mouth, bobbing her head up and down in a short rhythm and as she held her gaze.

“Oh fuck, that feels so good,” you moaned, scrambling for something to anchor yourself to. Thankfully you were inches away from the nearest countertop, finding the edge and gripping it tightly as Somi pleasured your cock expertly.

“I love sucking your cock so much, daddy,” Somi said as she lowered her head, nudging her nose against the base of your cock as she gave a few teasing licks on your tender balls.

“I love the way I can feel it throbbing inside my mouth. I love the way it tastes, it makes me so fucking wet, daddy.”

Somi’s filthy words aroused you even more as she dove her mouth onto your sensitive balls, tenderly sucking on them individually with just as much hunger. She kept a tight grip on your cock, giving slow strokes that accentuated your pleasure until your balls were doused in her warm saliva.

The combination of pleasure made you groan endlessly as she withdrew her lips from your balls after a few loud slurps, carefully fondling them.

“They feel so full. Is all this cum for me, daddy?” she asked, returning her focus to pleasuring your shaft, spitting on it several times and stroking it.

“Every last drop. They’re ready to be drained, baby.”

“I can’t wait, I want a nice big load inside me, daddy.”

Somi gave an approving smile, taking you back in the comfort of her wet mouth and sucking you off loud and wetly, lips almost to the very base of your shaft and leaving a glistening trail of saliva that followed.

Given the circumstances Somi wasn’t able to take her time with much regret. In a matter of moments she was furiously bobbing her head and taking every inch, letting out a shallow gag with every few strokes. She never quite conquered her gag reflex but didn’t seem bothered, she was just happy with every second her throat was filled.

Somi poured all her energy into giving you such a mind-numbing blowjob, moving her lips from tip to base, spilling saliva out of her mouth, covering your shaft in it. Her lips rested at the end of your shaft as her cute nose pressed against your stomach, smiling with a mouth full of a cock.

She came up for air, saliva dripping down her chin that she didn’t bother to wipe, her expression lust-filled.

“Fuck my face if you want,” she invited, taking your shaft and smacking herself in the face with it, rubbing it on her cheeks and lustfully grinning.

“I’d hate to ruin your makeup,” you replied, the one and only time you had that concern. Somi’s expression was full of disappointment, her smile fading and forming a pout.

“That’s the point,” she said, matter-of-factly. “My makeup artist can fix it later. She gets paid too fucking much anyways.”

Well, that settled that. Somi went back to slobbering on your cock as you placed your hands on both sides of her head, running your fingers through strands of hair and started thrusting inside her pretty mouth.

Consequences be damned, you were going to fulfill Somi’s wishes and desires, thrusting your hips back and forth and sliding every inch of your shaft down her tight warm throat.

Satisfied grunts and moans escaped your lips as you used Somi’s mouth for your pleasure, gagging her with your length as you struck the back of her throat to the point of tears from your forceful use, only encouraging you to give harsher thrusts.

“If only everyone knew what I was doing to you,” you said as Somi kept her mouth wide open for you as you furiously fucked her gorgeous face, slapping your full balls against her chin as she held onto your thighs and slurped hungrily.

“I bet that director had no idea what a cock-hungry little slut he hired did he?” you said, using Somi’s mouth as your personal toy, the constant sounds of gags and erotic slurps filling the small room as your pleasure sky-rocketed.

“Or your stylist unnie, she has no idea her cute innocent model loves choking on cock does she?”

Somi hummed around your cock in satisfaction, the vibration spiking your pleasure as you forced your cock down her throat, streaks of mascara starting to run and drip down her face.

Her makeup artist would certainly have her work cut out for her.

That wasn’t enough for you as you thrusted harder down her throat, slamming every inch nonstop without mercy, drool spilling out of her mouth and dripping onto her beautiful exposed tits as she choked and gagged on your needy cock.

“Take it all, baby,” you growled, holding the back of her head firmly against your crotch, not

caring if she could breathe or not. You desperately wanted to fill her messy warm mouth with cum, coating the back of her throat with it, but that dress looked so fucking sexy on her and you had other plans.

Instead, you savored the intoxicating warmth of her mouth for a few more thrusts, slowly withdrawing your drool-covered shaft as several lines of messy wet spit ejected from her lips, connecting to your swollen tip.

Somi gasped for air, rubbing her drool-covered face all over your wet shaft as she got the treatment she deserved, gargling the leftover saliva and spitting it onto your already drenched shaft.

You smirked at what you saw, once perfectly brushed hair was disheveled and out of place. Her eyes were still filled with tears, whatever leftover mascara she had staining her cheeks, drool glistening on her chin and her chest, an absolutely beautiful mess.

If only her staff could see her like this.

“Was I a good little slut, daddy?”

You nodded proudly and grabbed her dainty wrists and gently helped her to her feet, sharing intense eye contact as you kept the anticipation in the air high.

“I want to fucking ruin you,” you said, squeezing her breasts again, the drool coated on them making them glistening in the lights.

“Do it, please. Fuck me like the whore I am, daddy,” Somi begged, flashing the deepest set of fuck me eyes you had ever seen. You had gotten this far without getting caught, there was no reason to stop.

The dressing room was small with just two countertops, mirrors resting on top of each one waist high, used beauty products still scattered on both surfaces.

There weren’t that many options, no chairs in sight and the floor looked dirty and unkempt as it most likely hadn’t been touched in months if not longer. The counters provided ample space, but not enough for what you needed.

Somi looked at her designer watch she still had kept left on, and you saw you had ten minutes left before they would be looking for her. Plenty of time.

“How do you want it, baby?” you asked as you hiked her green dress up, surprised to see she had on a dark pair of blue panties for once.

“I don’t care, daddy, as long as you’re rough with me,” she said, biting her lip. You couldn’t help but smirk, roaming her tight body with her hands as you gripped her wide hips, harshly spinning her around as she gasped in delight.

“P-please, daddy. I need you. I need to be fucked so bad,” she pleaded, her eyes wide and bright. You kissed her bare shoulders, planting your lips behind her neck and whispered into her ear.

“I want you to watch me ravaging your pretty little cunt, baby.”

Somi dripped between her thighs and her muscles tensed up as you slid her skimpy thong to the side, exposing her gorgeous pussy to you, pink flesh dripping with arousal.

“O-of course, daddy,” Somi said, bending over the makeup countertop, sticking her plump round ass out and placing her palms flat on the surface, ready and willing to be taken right there.

Had there not been time restraints placed, you would have loved to make her beg and tease her pussy until she was as needy as could be, but unfortunately that wasn’t an option right now.

You spread her long legs, grabbing your throbbing shaft and rubbing her aching sensitive clit, pressing it against Somi’s hot wet flesh as she looked back, eyes full of desire.

“Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me like a whore.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second and pushed yourself in deep, her warmth suffocating you as you sank inside every inch of hot flesh, her cunt clenching hard as she moaned loudly. You didn’t waste time, thrusting immediately without any build-up, harshly gripping her hips as you began fucking her tight body from behind.

“Oh my god, daddy,” Somi moaned, her erotic expression visible in the mirror. Your rhythm was frantic from the very start, pistoning your hips and smacking them against her beautiful ass, causing her cheeks to ripple with every stroke.

“Such a tight little whore aren’t you? You like your pretty pussy stretched like this, baby?”

“Y-yes, daddy! You’re so fucking big, pound me daddy, pound me with your big fucking cock.”

“I’d fucking love to,” you replied, grabbing a rough handful of hair and wrapping your fingers around it, forming a ponytail and yanking back hard on it, tugging her head back. Her pussy clenched as she looked directly into the mirror, her eyes barely able to keep open as her mouth let out nothing but needy moans.

“Watch yourself, baby. Watch what I’m going to do to my pretty little cumslut.”

“Y-yes, daddy. R-ruin my pussy, please. Fuck my tight little hole until you blow your load in it!”

Somi’s filthy mouth only served to bring out your carnal desires, increasing your pace rapidly as you slammed her body against the counter, causing her back to arch perfectly as she screamed in delight. You really hoped the dressing room was far enough away from the rest of the staff to not be heard, but at this point you didn’t give a shit if they were listening right outside the door.

“F-fuck me harder daddy, p-please fuck me like the naughty whore I am!”

Your strong grip tightened on her hips, firmly pressing both thumbs into her toned back hard enough that you’re pretty sure was going to leave a bruising mark, one of the myriad of things Somi was going to have to figure out how to explain.

“Treat me like your pretty little fucktoy and break me!”

You watched intently in the mirror in front of you as Somi’s expressive features grew more contorted by the second, her lips only able to form breathless whiny moans and several strings of profanity.

Her pussy tightened to the point of almost causing pain, your shaft being lubricated thoroughly by her abundant slick that dripped down her thighs as you gave it your all, watching her breasts bouncing in the mirror in a way that hypnotized you into a trance.

“Choke me, daddy. Please, fucking choke your whore,” Somi said, as you seemed to be taken aback by every new sentence that left her lips.

You didn’t know what had gotten into her, but you didn’t have time to care as you dropped the bundle of hair you had, bringing the same hand to the front of her body, fondling one of her breasts before finding her warm, soft neck and wrapping your fingers around her throat and giving a gentle squeeze.

“More,” she demanded, and placed her small hand on the back of your own, increasing the pressure as she felt more airflow being restricted, thriving off the feeling she felt.

Somi’s dripping hot pussy pulsated wildly as you pumped into her, keeping a hand on her delicate throat as you looked at the sight in the mirror, something you’d never forget. Her chosen dress barely still on, mascara stains still visible underneath her eyes, her breasts bouncing deliciously with every rock of your hips as you choked her.

Somi kept her eyes focused straight ahead and loved every second of it.

It was hard to remember where you were, that this was still a designated break for Somi and that she would still have to return to work in a few short moments. Yet, you continued to pound into her tight cunt, giving such powerful hard thrusts she was liable to forget her own name.

“God, you’re so fucking deep inside my tight little pussy. Don’t stop fucking me, daddy, use me until you’re done with me!” Somi said, her words becoming an unrecognizable slur that all ran together.

Her warm wet walls grew wetter the harder you drilled her as the room became an orchestra of pleasure - the wet squelch of her pussy, harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, and the constant rising volume of her loud needy moans and gasps, every second that went by without a knock on the door caused a sense of relief.

That satisfying smack of flesh grew louder and louder as you released your grip on her throat. earning a whimpering moan. Your hands weren’t kept idle as you grabbed Somi’s arms and pulled them back, gripping her wrists as her back arched even more, hammering into her pussy with as much energy as you could exert.

“Oh f-fuck, daddy! D-don’t stop, don’t stop fucking your slutty little whore!” Somi said, her clouded eyes barely able to watch herself in the mirror as you saw her vacant stare. You used her slender arms as handles to fuck her senseless, feeling her gripping pussy squeezing the life out of your cock as it pulsated wildly as the stale air in the small tight room grew hotter.

“I’m going t-to cum, daddy! Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, daddy-”

Somi didn’t even have time to finish her sentence, her body already trembling, her held back arms shaking as her pussy tightened even more. Her hips bucked, toes curling into her expensive heels as she shrieked, juices flooding out of her cunt as she came the hardest she had in some time.

You didn’t let up, not that she would have wanted you to as you fucked her through her intense orgasm, pounding away and maintaining the same breakneck pace, harsh stroke after harsh stroke into her heat.

Somi's constantly clenching pussy sent tingles up your spine, and you weren't that far off from your own release if the aching tightness in your balls was anything to go by.

"I'm gonna fucking fill your needy cunt with cum, baby," you hissed, not asking for permission, hooking her arms and bringing her body upright until her back was pressing against your chest, making sure she wasn't going anywhere.

"P-please cum inside me, daddy. Cum inside your filthy little whore! Please, daddy, dump your huge thick load inside my slutty wet pussy, please!"

You loved using Somi like this, her pussy begging for cum as you railed her without mercy, the use of her arms taken from her and nothing to hold on to and at your mercy, taking every thrust into her body and pleading for more. You watched her lustful expression in the mirror as her breasts never stopped bouncing, chasing that sweet release you both desperately wanted.

It wouldn't be much longer now, your hips smacking harshly against her ass as her cunt was fucked so hard she would definitely have trouble not only walking out of her but for the next few days. Savoring every thrust into Somi’s tight warm body, you never let up, keeping the pace as fast your limbs allowed you to move until you finally were pushed over the edge.

“I’m fucking cumming!”

It took less than a handful of thrusts as you buried yourself in Somi’s wet warmth, groaning loudly as you spilled your seed deep into her cunt, throbbing with each shot of hot cum that you emptied into her inviting body, filling her to the absolute brim.

You used the last remaining energy in your body, hips tiredly working until you had no more to deposit in her. Thoroughly drained you never stopped thrusting, trying to fuck your hot deep as it possibly could go, spilling every drop into her womb.

Your moments slowed down little by little until they halted completely as you released her arms as she collapsed against the counter, both of you spent, filled with fatigue and gasping for air, an equally exhausted mess of bodies.

You rested inside her for one final moment, wanting to savor her smothering warmth for as long as possible as you gave her ass a quick smack and slowly pulled out, a flowing stream of thick semen dripping out of her roughly used pussy, staining her beautiful thighs.

“H-holy shit, d-daddy, you fucked me so well,” she said, her words trembling as you slid her thong back in place and pulled her dress down as she turned around to face you.”

“You asked me to.”

“I’m going to be so sore,” Somi smiled as she leaned in and kissed your lips, her bare breasts pressing against your chest.

Your breathing resumed gradually as you wiped the sweat off your brow. You wanted to say something but were rudely interrupted by a voice from the intercom.

“Jeon Somi to the set please!”

The two of you frowned as Somi took one more step, lips locking on to yours deeply, gasping for air as they withdrew.

“You really made me a mess, daddy,” she said proudly, as she pulled her top back up, trying to fix her hair as best as she could.

“I better get cleaned up. Fuck me again after I finish up?”

“Of course, baby.”

She kissed you on the cheek as she made her exit, walking gingerly and taking slow, tired steps out of the room.

You felt a little guilty that her staff would have to put in so much extra work, but that was their problem not yours. The fact that your load would be dripping out of her for the rest of the photo shoot, just the thought putting a smirk on your face.

You pulled your pants back up, stopping by the nearest bathroom to try and fix your hair, freshening yourself up before heading back.

Somi had a lot of explaining to do.

#somi smut #kpop smut #somi #reader insert #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader

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tulsa-trash · 3 years

Text

We Look Out For Each Other

WARNING(S): Alcohol Abuse

You never thought you'd ever step foot into Buck's in your life, yet there you were sat at the bar with your brother, Sodapop, right beside you. He was drinking from a dark brown beer bottle, which is something you never thought you'd see him do. He took a big gulp before letting out an obnoxious burp, which caused him to burst out into a fit of giggles. You couldn't help the huge wave of sadness that washed over you seeing him in this state. Sandy had just broken up with him, leaving him a complete and utter mess. You knew Dallas inviting him to this party was a bad idea, so you decided to tag along to make sure he didn't get hurt.

The place was absolutely packed, Buck always threw parties but you never understood why when the bar was so tiny. Everyone had to squeeze their way through a crowd wherever they went, it was madness. The air was hot and you felt like you were being suffocated the longer you stood in there.

You looked back over to your brother to find that a girl had caught his attention. She was all over him and he was too drunk to even return her touch. You internally gagged, you couldn't take it anymore. Deciding some fresh air would do you good, you got up from the bar stool and untied your sweater from around your waist.

"Soda! I'm gonna head outside real quick!" You yelled to the sandy-haired boy over the loud country music that was playing.

You got no response, him being too occupied with his new friend. You hopped off your seat and quickly squeezed your way out the front door. The cool, summer night wind immediately cooled off your overheated body. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you took a seat on the cement steps. You sat in silence for a while as you watched various cars fly by on the road in front if the bar, you wished you could just go home but you couldn't bring yourself to leave Soda behind by himself.

The door swung open behind you, making you unintentionally jump. You turned expecting to see a drunken idiot, but you were glad to meet the wary gaze of Johnny Cade.

"Hey, J." You greeted him with a smile.

"Y/N." He nodded. "Mind if I sit?"

You shook your head, "Don't mind at all."

He left enough space between the both of you in case someone else decided to walk out. You watched as he pulled out a pack of cools from his jacket pocket along with a red lighter.

"Want one?" He offered.

You sighed, "Boy, I sure as hell do."

He handed a cancer stick to you before lighting the one that was already dangling from his lips. He gestured for you to come closer so he could light yours, as you scooted over you couldn't help but feel heat rise to your cheeks when his face was only a few inches from yours. The familiar "flick" of the lighter sounded out and you took a long drag whilst looking deep into his dark eyes. He was so mesmerizing you had almost forgotten about your drunk brother that was inside.

"Thanks." You mumbled as the smoke exited your lungs and out of your mouth.

"You alright?"

"Hm?"

"You don't look too good, your face is really red." He stated.

You began to cough wildly, you kept your head facing down so your hair would cover your now even redder complexion and embarrassed expression.

"Y-Yeah! It was just really hot in there is all." You lied.

Johnny chuckled, "Yeah... it sure was."

Silence filled the air, you thought it was an awkward pause but Johnny seemed to be comfortable. While he seemed to be deep in his thoughts, you couldn't help but stare at his side profile. His caramel skin, the growing stubble that adorned his jawline down to his chin, the scar on his right cheekbone...

"Why ya starin' at me?"

You whirled your head forward, trying your best to play it off only to fail miserably. Johnny laughed quietly and, to your surprise, he shuffled a bit closer to you and playfully tugged on the sleeve of your jacket.

"Sorry." You muttered quietly, only to begin laughing at yourself as well.

"Not that I want you to leave or anythin', but why are you here? This isn't the type of place I thought I'd ever see you hangin' 'round."

He was looking at you with his brows furrowed, both concern and confusion painted his features. Somehow your heart managed to sink yet leap at the same time. Johnny said he didn't want you to leave, but the reason why you were at Buck's in the first place wasn't to get drunk and have a good time.

"Oh yeah... Well Soda is in there."

His eyes widened, "Really?"

You could only give him a glum nod.

"Is this because of Sandy?" He asked.

"Mhm... I couldn't just sit at home while my brother left to drink his sorrows away. That's not who he is, Johnny. You know that."

He shook his head, "Man... that's tough."

You rested your chin on your hand, your elbow propped up on your lap. You had know idea what time it was or how you were going to get both you and your brother home safely. Not to mention that Darry had probably noticed you were gone by now.

"I don't know what to do." You huffed. "I just wanna get me and Sodapop back home in one piece but at the moment I feel hopeless"

You held back the tears that were welling up in your eyes, the last thing you needed after tonight was for Johnny to see you cry.

You felt his arm drape over your shoulders, he pulled you closer to him so that your side pressed against his own. He was warm and smelled like smoke.

"I'll get the both of you home, Y/N. Don't worry about it." He told you.

"No, Johnny. It's fine you don't ha--" You began to protest but he cut you off.

"Nah, I'm goin' to. Think I'd sit here while you try to take your drunk brother home at this time of night?"

"But--"

He held up his hand, silencing you. He got up and went back inside without saying another word, he returned shortly with your incoherent brother clinging to him.

Somehow the three of you made it back to the Curtis house in one piece, Johnny led Soda up the front steps and to the door while you watched from the sidewalk.

"Try to be quiet in there, man." Johnny told your brother.

Soda gave him a slow nod, his eyelids drooping down in the process. Johnny opened the door for him, and with that he stumbled into the small home.

Johnny snickered, "Well that was a mission."

You made your way to him on the porch and agreed, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"I really can't thank you enough." You told him sincerely.

The young boy merely shrugged, "No problem at all, doll."

"Yeah but... I just feel bad. You didn't have to help us out. We pulled you away from the party."

He placed both of his hands on your shoulders and looked you in the eyes dramatically, making you giggle and look down.

"Look at me." He deepened his voice playfully.

You covered your mouth to hold in the big guffaws that were building up in your throat. But you obeyed and looked back up to make eye contact with him.

"Don't feel bad, I didn't even wanna be at that party anyway." He turned back into his serious self. "We look out for each other, so don't lose sleep over me helpin' ya."

You leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his lips. Before he could even react you open your front door and began to close it behind you.

"W-What was that for?" He stuttered.

"Consider it a thank you."

#the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders johnny #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fandom #the outsiders fic #johnny cade #johnny x curtis #curtis!sister #johnny cade x reader #johnny cade imagine #johnny cade fanfiction #johnny cade fic #ralph macchio #sodapop curtis

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hansolmates · 3 years

Text

busted in busan

summary; you’re snowbound at the airport, when the only thing you want is to be homebound. your anxieties heighten as the snow rises, worried that you won’t make it in time for christmas where your fiancé and his parents expect you—picture perfect. when all flights are cancelled due to a massive storm, you have to turn to the hands of an unlikely, hard-headed hero who knows the fastest way out of busan (and into your heart) pairing; jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; a christmas detour!au, fluff, angst, slice of life, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, pining, this is a total romcom, hallmark movie galore! tw–microcheating (or not however you look at it) mentions of sex, making out, profanity w/c; 10k a/n; for @suhdays holiday hallmark event! this event was totally up my lane, i couldn’t wait to post it! a huge thank u for @eerieedits for making this wonderful fic banner! this is totally unedited, i’ll to go back to it tonight but pls enjoy! for those of u who need a little more christmas charm this year, this is for u

if you loved this icy couple, please consider giving it a like n’share!⛄⛄⛄

“The Korean Air 1102 flight from Gimhae International Airport to Incheon International Airport will be delayed six hours due to the intense weather conditions. Please be on standby for any further updates.”

You’re twitching, fighting the urge to nibble on your nails because you’ve just got them done for Christmas. They’re a sleek champagne gold, because your fiancé insisted that they’re far more mature than your usual red and brown reindeer art. This is awful, and is only going to get progressively worse as the snow builds and builds. Right now the weather isn’t that bad, the snow isn’t even sticking to the ground and—oh.

Gnawing at your lip, your fingers brush over the cold window, a clear view of the landing strip you should currently be boarding. The touch is icy, and the pads of your fingers are enveloped in little rings of fog at the sudden warmth nudging the glass. Upon closer inspection and a squint of your eyes reveal that in fact, the snow is now sticking to the ground. Big, fat clumps are covering the freeway and destroying your Christmas plans.

Your fiancé will understand if you’re a little late for their Christmas Eve party, but you’re not sure if his parents will. You’ve been on livewire all week, wanting to at least spend the morning of Christmas Eve with your family back home. Knowing that your fiancé’s Christmas Eve party would run until very late, you booked a noon flight with enough time to get ready and impress his parents. Evidently, it was an ill-prepared idea.

Immediately falling into your terminal’s line, you hope that you can talk with the receptionist in hopes they could put you at ease.

“How soon will you announce our flight’s departure?” A sad smile.

“Is there any way you can put me on the next possible flight?” A shake of the head.

“Will the weather let up?” A frown.

Every bit of rejection weighs you down, and you’ve run out of questions to ask. For a receptionist, she’s not very receptive.

“C’mon lady, you’re holding up the line,” a voice tugs you from behind, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta get down to the city on Christmas.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, wanting to slap the rudeness off this man’s face. Instead of falling back in line, you move to the side to glare at him. He’s unfortunately attractive, albeit in a rugged sort-of way—nothing like your fiancé. The leather jacket that he carries tall is worn and crackly at the collar. Wavy dark hair he constantly has to hold back, a gesture that looks flirtatious and to your chagrin the receptionist is definitely recepting to him.

“Your refund should be processed in about two to four business days, Mr. Jeon,” the receptionist murmurs, the simultaneously sultry and chirpy voice making you twitch in your spot. Maybe if you drank a cup of tall, dark and handsome you’d be getting the same kind of treatment.

“Thanks,” he replies shortly, and it’s then you notice the extremely large luggage next to him. It’s the size of you, and despite the broad shoulders under the baggy jacket, he lugs it with careful force, making sure not to bump into anyone as he wheels it away from the counter.

It seems that your trainers have a mind of your own as you follow him down the terminal. He side eyes you as your feet pick up the pace to match his long legs, but he waits for you to say something first.

“Why did you ask for a refund?” you ask, frowning at him, “the flight is only delayed.”

He scoffs, “Do you see the snow? They’re just saying it’s delayed so they can hold onto your money a little longer. Besides, it’s a win-win. I get my refund sooner and some other poor sap can take the ticket and wait until five in the morning.”

“Five A.M.,” you exhale to yourself, slowing down.

It would be too late by then, far too late. Your shoulders slump, people start to bump into you without a care.

“Besides,” you hear his voice say from your stricken form, “I had a backup plan.”

That’s when your feet start to burn up, and you whip around to pump your legs, catching up with the man who’s already far down the hall. “What kind of backup plan?” you blurt, raising your voice because the crowds are starting to get noisier and deeper the further you follow him.

He hooks his lips into a confused frown, “You’re awfully nosy.”

“I’m in a pinch, my fiancé’s parents will kill me if I don’t show up to their party tonight.”

“Your fiancé’s parents… will kill you?”

“That’s an exaggeration,” you cough, immediately feeling self-conscious, “they’d kill me with their eyes. They’re really big, really pretty corporate people. They have high expectations for their future in-law.”

“Ah, and you're the country pumpkin who managed to sweep the rich guy off his feet?”

“Something like that,” you reply, rocking on your heels, “my dad was his dad’s former secretary, and we grew up together.”

The stranger with a plan stops in front of a long line. It’s so long that you’re not entirely sure where it leads to. People are piling out the door two at a time, and you can see they’re trying to get through the process as fast as possible. The window leading outside is blurry and caked in white ice. He hooks one leg over his luggage, the metal and plastic case is so high that his feet barely touch the ground. Like a kid with a flat scooter, he wheels himself through the line.

“These lines are for busses going in the direction of our flight,” he jabs a finger out the door, “if the flight got cancelled I was just going to ride one of these,” out of his pocket he pulls out two tickets, flicking it in front of your face.

“Are there any tickets left?” your eyes bug, and you immediately pull out your phone to reserve a spot.

“Nah, been booked since last month.”

It’s then that your eyes zero in on the second ticket he has in hand. Both tickets are addressed to the same name. You lower your phone in your pocket, narrowing your eyes. “Why do you have two for yourself?”

He pats his luggage as a response.

“That’s not fair!”

“It is when you buy it, sweetheart.”

“A literal human could be in that spot, wanting to go home for Christmas!”

“You’re just salty you don’t have a ticket, don’t take it out on my luggage,” he feigns a pout, rubbing the handle of the heavy container, “you’re hurting it’s feelings.”

It doesn’t take long for you and the stranger to reach the end of the line. To others in line the two of you look like two companions bickering good-naturedly, but in reality the only thing you want to do is slap that smug smile off his face.

“You want my ticket,” he states.

“I want your luggage’s ticket,” you bite back, staring petulantly at where he sits comfortably between the handle.

Unbeknownst to you, the man’s face morphs into a teasing grin upon seeing you glare a little too hard at the silver and black case. It just so happens that your eyes gravitate to the middle of the luggage, at the apex between his long legs leading up to a pair of black sweats. Despite the soft, baggy fabric you can see how the bulge of his thighs outline the thin cotton, looking large and inviting which—

Fuck. You’re engaged. Why are you checking out some stranger’s thighs? Your fiancé also has nice thighs, think about those!

“How much do you want for it?” you cough, crossing your arms and turning to the side to hide your flaming cheeks.

“Who said I was offering?”

“I’ll pay that and then some.”

“With your rich-boy’s money?”

If your hands were not digging into your elbows and you weren’t so concerned about your gold-foiled manicure, you’d deck him. Do the holidays normally make this person so snappy? He simply flips his hair, and you catch the shaved ends of his sides.

“Three-hundred,” he says easily, and if he notices you staring he doesn’t say anything, “including any extra fees for my luggage.”

“Done,” you hold out your hand for him to shake.

“I’m Jungkook, if you care,” the man named Jungkook adds wryly, practically swallowing your small hand with his larger one. You shortly reply with your name, and he merely nods, “a thank you would suffice.”

“Thanks,” and it’s then that you manage a scarily pretty smile, one that Jungkook finds both alarming and amusing. It’s a catered smile, one that you’ve trained yourself to accomplish after hours in the mirror in fear of your fiancé’s parents seeing right through you. It’s the smile you give during work when you don’t give a shit but you need to suck it up. It’s a 9/10 success rate.

“Scary,” he shivers, and then you realize he’s the 1/10.

The only bus for you two to pile on is one of the smallest. Probably half the size of a regular coach bus, but at this rate you don’t care. You’ll fly by hot air balloon if the weather wasn’t so crappy.

“Taehyung!” you startle at Jungkook’s sudden belt, and he does a big, beefy-chested bro-hug to the driver. Ah, so he has connections. You watch the two interact from your corner, pulling up your hood to stop the rapidfire snowflakes from pelting your eyes.

The driver is a classically handsome thing, dark eyes and dark fluffy hair. His paperbag pants look absolutely frigid however, and his teeth are chattering as he regards Jungkook with annoyed eyes.

“Listen, so plans have changed—”

“As always, Kook.”

“—and I need you to do me another solid. Do you have room in the compartment for my babies?”

“The answer is, and always no. That’s why you bought two tickets.”

“I know but,” he gestures to you with a jab of his thumb, “like I said, plans have changed.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung frowns, “trying to do some Christmas miracles? In this snowstorm?” Taehyung shakes his head, eyes flickering to the running bus. Most of the ticket holders are already on it. “I can save you two a three-seater, but there’s no room in the compartment. It’ll be a tight fight but—”

“It’s perfect. You’re dynamite, Tae,” Jungkook even has the audacity to reach his hands out and squish the driver’s cheeks, much to his distain.

The two of you are ushered quickly into the bus, leaving you in the very front diagonal to where Taehyung is sitting. The three seats are tiny, it probably barely fits Jungkook’s thighs with the large luggage nestled in the other two seats. The two of you suggest to put the luggage out in the aisle and take turns holding it, but Taehyung interjects that the luggage is a fire hazard.

“But not a human,” Jungkook decides, and he gestures for you to sit down in the available seat. You’re practically shoved against the window as Jungkook manages to squeeze his gargantuan luggage in the other two seats. He’s tall enough to grab the metal rungs of the bus, steeling himself in the middle of the aisle.

Taehyung doesn’t fight with that, and finally puts the bus into drive. Pulling out of the airport feels akin to leaving the eye of the storm. It’s going to be a long journey, and it makes you worry as to whether you’re going to make it on time or not.

Your favorite pastime is watching the window on a long car ride, especially when the snowflakes crystalize and melt away through the warmth of the vehicle. However, you’re irked. You thought Jungkook was a bit of a wank, a little too full of himself and far too mysterious for your own good.

Exhibit A, the luggage that’s currently threatening to wheel over and crush you against the glass. You wonder what’s so special about this luggage that Jungkook so desperately wants to protect, even so far as to buy its own seat. Sneakily, you lean over to smell the zipper. Surprisingly, it smells a little vinegary, the fumes getting you a little lightheaded within seconds. Your eyes dart to Jungkook, who’s currently engaged in conversation with Taehyung. You tilt your head and sniff again, confirming the slightly rancid smell.

It’s then you take in Jungkook’s form once more. He dresses a little schlubby, his clothes are old, his eyes are sunken in, and his luggage is filled with weird-smelling things.

Oh no. Is Jungkook a drug dealer?

Your fiancé’s parents would surely have a fit if this man gets arrested and you come up in the report as an accused accomplice. It makes sense, he would want to make sure that his goods are in his view at all times, and it explains why he so easily gave you his ticket for triple the actual price.

A giggle interrupts your thoughts. Yes, a tired, yet bubbly giggle. Jungkook’s face is pressed against his bicep, and you catch the fluttering of his eyes as he tries to keep up with Taehyung’s rambling. His grip is starting to loosen on the metal bars, and you’re worried that he might accidentally slip, or not hold tight enough in the event the car takes a sharp turn or slips on black ice.

“J-Jungkook,” it’s the first time you’re saying his name out loud, tasting it on your tongue as you regard him steadily, “why don’t we take turns sitting? I don’t mind standing for an hour while you sleep.”

He regards you with a sleepy smirk, shaking his head against the fabric of his jacket. “You’ll be flung in two seconds, besides can you even reach the handles?”

Good point, but Jungkook is far more muscular and if he does end up flying he’ll crash through the window and further hinder your commute. It’s why you choose your next words carefully, and you convince yourself it’s the only reason as to why you propose your solution.

“I’ll sit on your lap,” and since it sounds super weird coming out of your mouth, you tack on, “I’ll put your jacket over your lap as a barrier.”

He slacks, regarding you with a scrunched face. “Is the jacket supposed to make that situation any better? I’m fine standing like this.”

“This ride is going to take hours and you’re barely on your own two feet,” your point is made when the bus topples over a speed bump, and Jungkook looks awfully small as he moves to grapple the top bar with both hands, “my fiancé doesn’t get jealous, I’ve sat in plenty of friend’s laps before.”

“We’re not friends,” he blurts with a raise of his brows.

“Yes, I know that,” you’re a little insulted by the curt reply, but he still looks rather horrified that you’re proposing the following, “I don’t like it either, but I’m sitting in your seat and now I’m feeling guilty as hell.”

It’s a lot of shuffling and shifting after that. You try not to laugh as Jungkook rips off his leather jacket, folding it into a perfect square, ironing out the corners of the crinkly fabric as he gestures for you to take a seat. You try not to take note of how sturdy his thighs are, or how the muscle stretches across the seat so well that there’s no way for you to fall between the cracks.

“You’re going to sleep anyway,” you try to assure him, side eying him as he presses his forehead against the window, “it’ll be like being with a dead body.”

“Didn’t know you were into necrophilia, but whatever floats your boat,” Jungkook mumbles, eyes immediately fluttering shut.

At first it was easy, ignoring the fact that you’re sitting on top of a human. The drive seems endless however, Taehyung driving further and further into a sea of white ice. You force yourself to thread your fingers together, sitting on the very edge of his knees with your back ramrod straight. Eventually, you tire out and relax against Jungkook’s lax body. Your face is centimeters away from Jungkook’s. Long, dark lashes, and a strand of equally dark hair falls in front of his eyes. His cheeks are flushed from the blaring heater, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

Hm, for a drug dealer, he smells pretty.

Despite the weird-smelling luggage that looms over the two of you, the white long-sleeved shirt he wears is soft to the touch and smells fresh.

You huff, and shift in your seat.

“Stop,” Jungkook mumbles into your shoulder, and you don’t have the heart to look at him.

“I’m sorry, it’s cramped,” you reply.

“I get that, but you don’t have to—hike yourself so far up here,” he sounds almost embarrassed saying it, and his hand shuffles to adjust his belt. “Literally can’t sleep because you’re making me pop a boner.”

“Why, I’m engaged!”

“God, I know. It’s like your personality trait or something,” Jungkook retorts, “just because you’re engaged doesn’t stop my body from reacting. I’m sure your fiancé has reacted like this, stop acting like a blushing virgin.”

You tense, your eyes glued to the window in front of you. How do you even make a comeback to that? Wringing your hands in your lap, you feel your palms sweat with nerves the longer it takes for you to reply. This causes the gears to run in Jungkook’s mind.

“Holy fuck, have you two not—”

“Shut up,” you hiss, turning your body around to slap him in the chest, “shut up shut upupupshutup!”

You make seething, burning eye contact with Jungkook. You expect him to have a shit-eating grin on his face, teasing you for your relationship. Instead, Jungkook is wide-eyed, mouth parted open like a confused guppy and his big bug-eyes looking stricken. He says nothing.

The road starts to get bumpier, and the drive swerves from time to time to avoid black ice. Neither of you are relaxed. Combined with the heart of the storm, your heart is currently wrung on electrical wire, pumping blood with a fervor you cannot stifle.

“I’m going to put my arms around your waist,” Jungkook murmurs softly, and you lift your arms slightly to see him lace his fingers over your belly button. “Like a seatbelt.”

You sigh, relaxing in his hold. Now it’s awkward. He feels compelled to hold you to keep you safe, even though he clearly finds it awkward you’ve already put him in this position.

Jungkook isn’t so bad, you think as you let your gaze linger on his hands. They anchor you to his lap, making sure you’re not jostling during the ride. He may have a razor sharp tongue and gets under your nerves just for the heck of it, but he’s kind of nice. Under the prickly leather jacket, there’s a softness to him you can’t help but gravitate to.

It’s dark outside, save for the speedily descending flakes and the dim lights of the highway. You’re sitting on the lap of a total stranger, yet it’s a stranger who’s holding your waist like he’s a seatbelt, a stranger who’s making you feel safe to say the words that have been haunting you for the past few months.

“I’ve tried to initiate sex,” you finally say. “I don’t know why he doesn’t want me, it’s already been two years.”

Your eyes turn red with bloody horror. Your vision blurred by the insanity of what you’ve just blurted out to this surprisingly kind stranger who’s offered his seat (both times) to you.

“I didn’t mean to word vomit like that. Forget I said anything—”

“Must be his loss,” Jungkook cuts you off, and when he says it doesn’t feel impolite at all. However, Jungkook doesn’t continue on, doesn’t give you rhyme or reason, just lets you linger on his reply like a madwoman.

Maybe it’s because you’re so touch starved, maybe you’re just seeing things, but for some reason Jungkook’s fingers feel more apparent against the seam of your jacket. They tighten a fraction, drum around the metal zipper that holds the thick fabric together. Your palms feel like a fountain, and you try to ignore the burn between your legs, the liquid heat betraying the commitment that sits on your finger.

You’re engaged to be married, you chastise yourself. All eighteen carats that symbolize that bond glare at you, bright and eager to make you feel guilty. The whole reason why you’re on this cramped bus ride is to get to your soon-to-be husband. Some pretty stranger with strong hands won’t change that.

“We’re here! Finally!” Taehyung cheers, and you realize now that you’re parked into a tunnel surrounded by other buses.

Jungkook and you wait until everyone steps off the bus. The pads of Jungkook’s fingers play an unsung tune, absentmindedly drumming to a song you can’t put your mind to.

“God, you can’t just pay the extra money for someone to take care of this?” Taehyung hauls the large luggage in the aisle seat, and you feel like you’re being revealed under a curtain, doing something you’re not supposed to be doing.

You hop off his lap, scoop your backpack in your arm and scramble off the bus. The cold, winter air bites into every available pore in your body, replacing the warmth that Jungkook gave in the tiny bus. You hike the collar of your oversized turtleneck higher up your chin, prickling in shivers as you wait for Jungkook.

“I don’t remember Seoul being this, empty,” you say to yourself, frowning at the lack of humans past the bus station. You peer curiously at the dark, dark road off the terminal. There’s no flicker of light, or a skyline filled with bustling sounds and flickering head beams.

“That’s because we’re only halfway there,” Jungkook walks past you, luggage in tow.

“What?” you pull out your phone, it’s already 4PM and it’s pitch dark outside.

The snow is beating down as you two speed walk out of the hangar, reaching a nearly vacant parking lot save for a pure white minivan. You barely notice the vehicle with all the snow, blending in perfectly as wave after wave of ice beats down on it. The pops of rust by the tires, gaudy orange stripes is the only thing you can focus on as you try to make it to the car as fast as possible.

“Get in and start the car,” Jungkook practically shoves the keys in your hands, gesturing for you to take the passenger seat.

When you enter his car, you’re hit with a scent scarily identical to the one in Jungkook’s luggage. You nearly gag when you inhale too much, and your eyes flicker over to the lemon air freshener attached to the exhaust, trying its best to mask the smell. You vaguely remember all the warning stories your parents told you as a kid—never enter the white van.

Ohmygod, you’re in a white van and all of Jungkook’s drugs are in the back.

You shake your head, willing the car to start as you arch your back over the console to start it up. You’ve been around your fiancé’s parents too long, letting them fill your head with judgemental gab and crazy assumptions only rich people have about people lesser than them.

Once the car spurs to life, soft holiday music plays from a pop station. The front window of the car is absolutely covered in snow, you can’t even budge the windshield wipers to scrape the layer of ice off.

Suddenly, a blanket of ice slides off the window, swept to the concrete. You’re met with Jungkook’s toothy smile and horror-esque stare, and you have this jerk reaction to nervously laugh and jump in your seat. Your nails dig into the cheap fabric of your seat as Jungkook’s scary expression melts into a more softened one, as if happy to have gotten you to laugh in such sucky times. Jungkook continues to brush your windows, meticulously making sure no ice can cause any damage as you two go into the night.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road!” Jungkook whips the door open, throwing the snow brush at the space between your feet.

As soon as he shuts the door, your stomachs growl simultaneously.

The two of you break into a quick laugh, giggles that overlap the twinkly holiday chimes and the packed snow crunching under Jungkook’s boots.

“After McDonalds,” Jungkook declares, setting up the GPS for a quick pitstop to the nearest fast food joint.

Ten minutes into the drive, you pull into a generic food joint, too starved to find gourmet McDonalds. You make it a point to flick your card and lean over his body to meet the cashier, telling him you’re spotting the meal. Jungkook doesn’t complain, and tells the cashier to add in a vanilla sundae for good measure.

Color yourself impressed, but you can’t help but gawk as Jungkook expertly sets up his food on the dashboard like a five-star meal, with fries in the cupholder and a burger unwrapped perfectly to catch any spills and to keep his fingers from getting greased up. For such a terrible snowstorm, he pulls out of the joint gracefully, a brief intermission in your long journey.

“So, is my fiancé’s place far from where you need to be?”

Jungkook shrugs, a stray fry hanging from his mouth. “It’s not far, not close either. I don’t mind, I like driving.”

“Do you drive around a lot?”

“Yeah, for work. It’s a little annoying that I have to spend Christmas alone, but it is what it is.”

Pausing on your speculation, you take a big bite of your burger. You were hoping that your conversation would spur on a little more detail about his drug-esque job. However, all you start to feel is the heaviness of your fast food meal, stemming from your chest and filling your grease-filled stomach.

“You’re spending Christmas alone?” you say, and you don’t mean to sound so sad saying it, but the thought of him being alone tonight makes you feel pinched with pain.

“I can practically feel your puppy-eyes,” Jungkook shakes his head, not even needing to look at you as he focuses on the road. “I’m fine, don’t you worry.”

“Do you wanna come to the party?” you offer, trying to sound as neutral as possible as you throw the suggestion on the dash.

“Not my thing,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, “with my line of work, I prefer to lay low.”

Trying not to feel a hurt by the sudden (but expected) rejection, you practically eat your burger whole, eyes glaring on the road. You surmise it’s a valid excuse, drug dealers aren’t exactly one for highly-populated areas and with your fiancé’s reputation, you’re sure his parents would smell Jungkook’s reputation in a micro-minute.

The drive isn’t anything special. You’re sure if it were spring, the foliage would be pretty and the sun would be setting into melty orange hues by now. It’s all black and white, boring shades that are aggressively pelting at the van and hindering your evening.

“So, what other character traits do you have?” Jungkook cuts through your semi-brooding, as easily as one slices through butter, “other than the obvious that you’re engaged, and that you’re getting married. And oh yeah, you have a fiancé!”

You scoff at his cheesy joke, folding your arms together. “I like spending time with my family. Watching movies under a weighted blanket. Plants.”

His stare dips away from the road for a fraction, enough for you to catch that he’s rolling his eyes, “Fascinating. Not a plant person myself. I like those cute little succulents though. Had a bunch of those in college.”

“I am also a ramen connoisseur,” you say pointedly, turning up your nose.

“Ah, are you?” you smile a little when you see Jungkook’s eyes light up at the mention of food, “what’s the criteria for good ramen?”

“Deep, creamy broth. Also, the egg. Gotta look like a custard-y, eggy sunset. It’s just,” you smack your lips together, mimicking a chef’s kiss, “perfect.”

He chuckles, and goes on to tell you a story about a ramen shop he’s visited on his travels. It’s one he declares that you need to visit, one he still dreams about often. It takes a ferry and it’s a bit of a trek, but he says it’s worth it, and the eggs are as custard-y and sunset-y as you’d like.

It’s between pockets of his story and pulling yourself out of this little bubble of a van you realize: are you flirting with Jungkook?

The longer this trip goes, the more your stares linger. They linger like the snow that sticks to the ground, unable to do nothing but cling. Layer after layer of confusing feelings, building up to a blizzard that you’re unable to quell.

“So, your family’s also going to be at your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook asks, poking at yet another one of your personal facets. He’s being blatantly nosy, yet neither of you seem to mind.

“Oh, no,” you shove your hands in your pockets, “they wanted to stay back in our hometown with the extended family. Y’know, the older members can’t really travel as much as they used to.”

“Ah, so you’re splitting up your time,” Jungkook drums his hands on the wheel, eyes drooped slightly as he continues along the monotonous road, “your fiancé couldn’t make it?”

“Couldn’t,” you reply lightly, “just, y’know, work.”

“Been there, done that,” Jungkook replies, “I’m sure he missed out though. What’s your family like? Are they the type to bake cookies until 3 A.M.? Oh, or do they get wine drunk and talk shit about their annoying cousins—”

“Jungkook,” the words fly out of your mouth before you can even think, “I’m engaged.”

The weight of your words holds differently now. A whole day has passed with this man, and you’ve developed an attachment that simultaneously scares and thrills you. Not an hour goes by that you have to think to yourself that you’re taken, to the point that you can’t even tell what’s in your head and what’s being spoken out in the air.

Instead of a snippy comment, a snarky retort of, “I know, I know!” like you anticipate, Jungkook stops the car.

There’s no human trace for miles, so it doesn’t scare you when he slows down and pulls off to the side. He gears the car into park, roughly pulling the handle. He lays his arm over the steering wheel, turning his body so he can face you fully. The heat in the car suddenly feels too cloying, and you shrink in the seat as he leans in on you.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, and from the looks of it, he’s genuinely hurt.

“I—Jungkook,” you plant your feet on the ground, trying to find some power in this situation, “I mean I, we—you just can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you feel like I’m trying to steal you away? Or, seduce you or something?” Jungkook is starting to talk himself into a stupor, eyes flickering from the window, to you, to behind you, and back to you. It’s almost jarring, seeing how self-conscious he starts to get without the presence of an audience. Gone is the smooth talker that you met at the terminal, willing to haggle it all for your cash. “Are you uncomfortable? Is it weird I have a crush on you?”

“Wait, you have a crush on me?”

He reels back, nearly pressing his head against the window. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deep from his lungs. “Adults still get crushes, y’know.”

“Yeah, but not to people you met eight hours ago.”

Jungkook arches a brow, “People fall for people in the most unlikely of ways.”

That singular statement hits you, hard.

Jungkook looks like he wants to get out of the van. He seems stuffy, and he unzips his coat and shoves it under his legs.

“You’re cute,” he echoes the statement like he can’t believe that in a short amount of time, he’s attached to you, “you seem to have good taste, you love family, and your personality isn’t half bad,” the last bit is meant to be teasing, a lighthearted way to end his bout of emotion, but it only makes you ache further, “And it makes me upset knowing that you have to keep convincing yourself that you’re in a relationship that isn’t as fulfilling as you hope. This whole drive, you’ve been anxious about going to his parents, worrying that you’re not going to make it on time instead of relaxing with your family. Where you actually want to be.”

“I also want to be with Jimin,” you say weakly, a half-hearted attempt to defend yourself.

You never mentioned your fiancé’s name until this point. It makes Jungkook stiffen a little, finally putting a name to the man that’s supposed to have your heart. It makes the relationship concrete, palpable.

“I’m sure you do,” Jungkook smacks his lips, evidently sealing the conversation to suffocate under the snow.

Jungkook puts the car into drive, sliding back into your current route.

“And to answer your question, Jungkook. No, you having a crush on me is not weird,” and smaller, quieter, you reply, “because it’s weird that I might have a crush on you, too.”

You know that Jungkook catches your statement, because he cranks the volume of the radio harder, effectively shutting you out.

The first thing Jungkook says when you finally reach the Park’s house is: “Wow.”

His van looks completely out of place, parked on the side as limos and Escalades drop off more and more people into the large estate. It’s pouring with elegant piano music, and the large window in the middle of their home reveals a century-old chandelier, crystals beaming and winking against the hundreds of guests that lie underneath.

The rest of the way driving was almost painfully fast. After that awkward wave of emotion, neither of you said anything. Well, you didn’t at least. Jungkook attempted to clear the air by singing along to the Christmas songs on the radio, but it only further attracted you because to your chagrin—Jungkook’s a pretty good singer.

The estate isn’t in Seoul persay, it’s a sizable plot of land that definitely comes from old money. It’s decked up like the North Pole, lit up and tiny crystal lines dotting the expanse of the rooftops. The snow certainly adds to it, and many guests are outside taking pictures of the picture-perfect holiday show. The blizzard has finally subsided, leaving a clean blanket of snow across their yard.

You scoff to yourself. What they find to be a Christmas miracle only derailed yours.

Jungkook stares at you while you send a quick text to Jimin. You tell him he needs to come fast, because you don’t want his parents to see you all sweaty and dressed like you’ve been traveling for hours.

“Oh, uh,” you finally take a look at him, and you immediately regret it because you’re getting sucked into his gaze, “I think you put my bag in the trunk?”

“Right,” he shakes his head, “follow me.”

He tilts his head down when he’s outside, as if the snow’s going to start back up and drown him. Your thumb scratches the ring on your finger as you hop out of the van, effectively popping the bubble the two of you have been sealed in for the better half of the evening. Is this going to be it? Is the last you’ll see of Jeon Jungkook?

All those thoughts evaporate when Jungkook opens the trunk.

There’s no drugs.

In fact, you don’t even know what to think. The van is absolutely filled, wall-to-wall art supplies and canvas carefully lined up like Tetris blocks to avoid damage. The floor of the van seems to receive the brunt of the messes, and you catch recent paint stains and spray cans stacked to the side. It explains the smell.

There’s some clear cases in a corner, protecting completed prints that are already framed. Your eyes cling to a vibrant hyacinth, coral and satin blue petals bunching in the middle of a black background. It’s absolutely gorgeous, if it wasn’t for all the paint lying around, you’d think it’s real.

Jungkook’s an artist.

“Holy shit, I thought you were a drug dealer,” you blurt, and you want to smack yourself in the face.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook jerks his head towards you, “did you think I was a drug dealer this whole time?”

“N-no,” you frown petulantly, letting Jungkook loop your arms through the straps of your backpack. “Maybe. You were very shady.”

He laughs, a genuine laugh. It confuses you, the way he tucks his hands in his pockets and bends his back over to look up at you through his dark lashes. It’s like nothing’s wrong, like he’s trying to erase the past eight hours and leave with no qualms. You don’t know if that comforts you or terrifies you.

“So, you were willing to let a potentially dangerous man be your travel partner for eight hours so you can make it to your fiancé’s party?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to the front door, “you must really love him.”

“I do,” you say the phrase like it’s second nature. Rehearsed. Practiced.

“Merry Christmas,” Jungkook pulls out his hand, and you don’t hesitate to grasp it.

Liquid heat sparks through your skin, one that tingles from where his large palm encases yours, all the way to your heart.

“Merry Christmas,” you echo, and your feet feel like lead as you back away from him.

Jungkook waits until you go inside the house, even though the valet is side eyeing him and mentally telling him to leave already. Turning your back to him is rough, like you’re without snowshoes and you’re trudging through snow.

The goodbye feels rushed. Your heart is cold and heavy. Unfortunately, by the time you realize you haven’t paid Jungkook for his bus ticket and the ride, it’s too late. Jimin has already pulled you in his awaiting arms, and Jungkook has peeled out of the driveway.

“You look awful,” Jimin coddles you, dusting the invisible dirt off your jacket. You know Jimin means well by the statement, but you can’t help but feel a little unsupported by his words. You did all you could to make it to Jimin in time for this party full of faceless, nameless people. And yet, Jimin inadvertently manages to put you down for finally making it.

The hallway is relatively empty, save for one staff member who cleans the wet linoleum floors whenever someone with snow steps in. You can easily make out where the heart of the party is, the tinkly holiday music playing from the speakers, along with all the bodies huddled by the extra large Christmas tree that is brimming with presents.

You do feel like a wet noodle, in comparison to Jimin and Namjoon’s complementary pinstripe suits. Jimin’s deep burgundy suit pops in the endless hallway of marble and light wood as he quickly leads you upstairs to a spare room for you to change. Namjoon’s more muted grey still looks stunning on him, cutting his tall figure nicely. You think it’s cute that Jimin made an effort to match with his assistant, not making him feel out of place in this big party.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Namjoon interjects softly, gesturing to the garment bag hanging on the boudoir, “I picked out your dress.”

“I’m sure whatever you bought is beautiful,” you assure softly, stepping fully into the room. It’s an extra bedroom, you’re assuming it might be yours.

“We’ll give you some time to freshen up and get ready,” Jimin squeezes your arm, a touch you can barely feel due to the puffiness of your down jacket. It’s just an awkward escape of air to you, a sssttt that you catch Namjoon hiding his smile for, “we’ll walk around a bit and bring you some food.”

“I want cupcakes,” you blurt impulsively, and the two of them laugh on their way out the door.

Once you’re finally alone, you strip yourself bare. Jacket, shirt, socks, underwear. You make quick work of taking a hot, damp towel to wash your arms and legs, scrubbing your face of any oil and dirt from the day. You wrap yourself in an indulgent fluffy robe, the plush material comforting you as you flop on the bed.

It’s been a day.

You take a five minute cat nap, the weight of the day taking its toll on you. When you finally flutter your eyes open however, you see him.

It’s not exactly him, it’s his art. It’s mounted right atop the headboard, a large blown up painting of a tiger lily. The orange and gold flecks flicker and go perfectly with the decor of the room. The piece is longing, aching for you to go back to two hours ago when you could’ve phrased your words better, balm the situation into something to salvage. This must be a sign, you think. Upon closer look, you see the signature Jeon JK etched in silver in the corner. Who knew the Parks were buying Jeon Jungkook’s work, the world is smaller than you’d originally thought.

It ignites you. You rip the zipper of the garment bag, pulling on the slinky glittery gold dress Namjoon picked out for you. It’s gorgeous, and you don’t know how he managed to find your proportions, but you figure an assistant of his caliber has access to many things. You don’t have much time, so you slap on some light makeup and swipe some highlights across your eyes. By the time Jimin returns, you’re pulling your hair up and out of your face.

Jimin walks to the bed with a pretty red velvet cupcake, “You look beautiful,” he says immediately, and you follow to sit with him at the foot of the bed.

You don’t hesitate to grab the cupcake from his tea plate, nearly shoving it in your mouth. You definitely need a rush, something to curb you over for the plans you have tonight. “Sugar sugar,” you chant like a mantra, and you don’t care that your lipgloss is smudged and crumbs cling to your cheeks.

Jimin just rubs circles onto your thigh, letting you eat and relax. He knows you’re not a fan of these kinds of parties, preferring to wallflower it, preferably at a wall closest to the buffet. His touch is comforting, and you chew slower in order to prolong the inevitable. It takes a beat for you to finish your cupcake.

“I need to talk to you,” the two of you blurt at the same time, and you point and giggle at each other like you’re still five year olds tinkering in the sandbox.

Jimin pouts, “Can I go first? Mine’s kind of important.”

“Mine’s also really important,” you don’t mean to invalidate Jimin, but you really need to get this out. “I might explode if I don’t say this now.”

The blonde scrunches his nose, obviously weak to your unusual distress, “I guess I wouldn’t want that.”

You clutch his hand, the hand that holds the plain wedding band he picked out for himself two years ago. Your eyes flicker to how your ring kisses his, “Jimin. I love you, like really love you. I can’t imagine my life without you, you’ve been my best friend since we could crawl. But as I traveled down here, I realized that even though I love you, I think I’m not in love,” you wince at how cheesy that sounds, “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not good enough, but the whole trip down here made me realize I don’t think I can commit to this.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you gasp, watching relief wash over Jimin’s features. You’re not even done with your whole spiel and he’s already unbuttoning his blouse, “this makes what I’m about to say a whole lot easier.”

“Jimin,” you trail off, squeezing his palm, “what do you mean?”

“I mean, I think I’m in love.”

Your jaw slackens slightly, seeing the sweat that lines Jimin’s slicked back hair. He must’ve been thinking about this all night, waiting for you to tell you this. Your chest aches, weighing in on all the sudden facts. “Who is it?” you ask.

Jimin shrugs, “The man who does my taxes and makes sure I sleep at least seven hours a night.”

“Namjoon,” you conclude, eyes moving to the sealed door. You think Namjoon is waiting out there right now, silently supporting you two as you go through this. Of course, Jimin’s parents would be livid if anything would tarnish his reputation. A broken engagement would be sticky to cover up, and Jimin falling for his assistant is a headline right for the books.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin whispers, despite the room being vacant he feels the need to keep his words short, “You came all this way to hear this. But I guess we’re on the same page, huh?” His soft fingers make a beeline for your ring finger, removing the diamond band, “And by the way, I love you too. Which is why we’re going to come clean in the morning and work this out with my parents, together. I’m sorry if you felt obligated to follow me all this time just because our parents did.”

“Hey, like you said, we’re in this together. Both in and out,” you chastise, pulling your engagement ring from his grasp and holding it to the light. “Can I keep this? Instead of an engagement band, it can be our best friend band. I’ll even get it re-sized so it can go on another finger.”

Jimin pulls you into his arms, crushing you. The silky material of your dress bunches and rides, but you don’t care. The two of you can’t help but be a little crybaby-ish about it, feeling much like your younger-selves when you had to pull each other out of trouble.

The two of you walk out of the bedroom hand-in-hand, and Namjoon is leaning against the banister in the hallway, a soft smile melting on his tanned skin.

“I’m so happy for you,” you gush, hugging Namjoon tightly. You’ve only known the man for a few months, but you can tell he’s taking care of Jimin and that’s enough for you.

“I… really thought you’d be more upset.” Namjoon marvels, patting your back.

Jimin interjects, “I think she’s found someone hotter than me.”

“Impossible!”

You could stay at this party, lay low until you and Jimin have to confront his parents in the morning. They suggest to get all the food they need and sneak out to the home theatre. The three of you hustle it down the stairs to another part of the house, in order for you to make your getaway and avoid Jimin’s family.

“Hey,” you stop in front of another painting, pulling the two men to a stop. Your eyes lock on a framed droopy peony, tipped with pink dye. You realize you can’t stay here, not when someone’s home alone tonight. “Namjoon, I need you to locate someone for me.”

Jungkook does not expect to see you at his front door.

You’re stunning, and look as breathless as he feels. The liquid champagne number that hugs your frame does things to him, and he’s strangely attracted to the fact that you paired this expensive dress with your snow-drenched trainers.

You showing up at the wee hours of the morning was the last thing Jungkook thought would happen. It’s nothing short of a holiday event, you look like you’ve just walked out of a gala and then ran a marathon to reach him.

He thought when he said goodbye, it would be the last time you’d cross paths. At first, he was okay with that. After all, feelings come and go, and spontaneity only works a percentage of the time. Seeing you presently however, throws all those half-hearted concedings out the window.

“Hi,” you finally say, drinking from the fact that you actually found him.

“Hey,” Jungkook breathes, “you look, beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

“So, is this about you not paying me back for the ticket?” Jungkook suddenly feels guilty, having dipped out of Jimin’s manor once he saw him appear at the door. It was unrightful jealousy, and because of that he needed to drive away as fast as possible. “Because honestly, it was me messing with you. I really don’t need the money.”

“I figured, from the fact that I had to take the elevator up to the penthouse of the building.”

“So then why are you here?” Jungkook wobbles on the balls of his feet, unsure of what to do with himself.

“My ex-fiancé is in love with someone else,” you lay your cards out just like that, and Jungkook’s unprepared to deal.

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry—”

“Let me finish,” you cut in gently, “my ex-fiancé is in love with someone else, and that’s okay. We’ve been best friends since we were little, and we want nothing but happiness for each other. And for me? Happiness is right in front of me.”

You bite your lip, and Jungkook fights down the urge to run up and pull you into his arms. You must be so cold, running out without a jacket and rushing to his home. However, he lets you finish, and he holds himself down by clutching the door frame as casually as possible.

“I also have a big, fat crush on you,” you say boldly, “and I had to tell you as soon as I could. It took a twenty-minute phone call and some serious leverage from Jimin’s company to figure out where you lived. That receptionist is definitely not letting me use my frequent flyer miles next flight.”

“You harassed an airport receptionist just for me?” he smiles wanly, placing a hand on his chest, “I’m touched.”

“You make me excited to try new things, to be spontaneous and do things for myself,” with every statement you take a step further, and soon enough you’re in his dimly lit apartment. The plush couch in his living room looks awfully warm and comfy, and the light music that plays from his speakers is soft and soothing. “So, let’s spend the holidays together and see where this goes. And go to your art gallery tomorrow, because I did research you on the drive and found out you had to rush here because of a big show.”

“So you’re actually a stalker?” Jungkook teases, tugging you over to the couch.

He takes the lead, plopping himself on the couch first and inviting you to sit next to him. You take a detour and plant your body atop of him, and with an ‘oof’ the two of you are sinking.

“A stalker and a potential drug dealer does sound like a promising pair,” Jungkook jests, his hand palming the silky material of your ruched up ball gown.

“I’m sorry,” you pout, wrapping your fingers around the long tresses of his hair, “can you please stop bringing that up? It was judgemental of me.”

“I like when you’re judgemental,” he pokes your puppy-faced cheeks, ruddied with embarrassment. “I like picking fights with you and getting you all riled up.”

“Will you rile me up now?”

Sexy, he thinks. He figures a vixen has been hidden under you, one suppressed by a complicated engagement and many other factors he’d love to learn about in the near future. The situation at hand however, is far more pressing. Your body is finally warming up, and Jungkook tries to ignore the weight your body is causing, re-igniting an ache he felt hours ago when you two were squished against each other in the coach bus.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you declare, and you look a little frustrated that Jungkook is taking so long to process this information, “and I hope I take your breath away.”

You taste like sugar and the softness that comes with the holidays. It’s tender and oh-so comforting, and Jungkook can’t help but squeeze your hips closer as your lips brush fervently against his. The feeling is both new and old, and Jungkook figures you’ve finally uncoiled a flame that you can no longer quell.

Soon enough your kisses turn hungry, and Jungkook has to remind himself that you two have only known each other for a total of twelve hours, and he isn’t sure of what’s appropriate to jump to due to the speed of your relationship. Once he feels the first roll of your hips, a liquid heat that Jungkook can’t help but return back, he pulls away from your soft lips. Not too far, but a few centimeters apart so that Jungkook and you can catch your breath.

“We should take this slow,” he starts, trying to make a reasonable impression now that you’re a guest at his home and finally settled from their long trip. “I really, really want to get to know you. And you’re so beautiful and I really do want to have sex but—”

“Jungkook, I have not had sex with someone in two years,” you speak with a depraved tone, as if it’s been centuries since you’ve been touched. He can’t help but throw his head back and laugh, “a night full of sex sounds like the best last-minute present ever.”

You bring his hand over to your core, the shiny glassy material of your gown doing nothing to hide the glimpses of pleasure you’re minutes away from experiencing. You whine desperately at the thought, and Jungkook’s a goner.

“Well, I guess I’m about to pull a Christmas miracle,” he murmurs against your lips, ready to work his magic.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #kwritersworldnet #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts angst

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catastrophe-at-sixteen · 3 years

Text

strawberries and cigarettes (m)

Jungkook x reader

“For a biology project, you and your class are going on a field trip to collect evidence for your hypothesis. It is all going well until the dark haired nuisance called Jeon Jungkook decides to piss you off.”

Also - a nerd. The resident bad boy. The police. Annoying friends. A loose psycho killer. What could go wrong?

This is my first time ever uploading any fics !! im super nervous haha - i'll probably post a little of each one and see how it goes !!

Jungkook x reader.

This is your classic enemies to lovers but with a slight little twist!

This is set in the 80s/90s and is your typical bad boy/nerd girl trope- but , there is a killer on the loose. I mean this is kind of based on jack the ripper (serial killer) and my teenage fantasies of falling for bad boy jungkook. I hope you’ll give it a go and tell me what you think !!! <3

Tw : cursing, killings, descriptions of death and psychopaths, masturbation , making out, smut.

WC : 11K

also a big massive thank you to @ggukkiereads for helping me gain the confidence to write and dedicate time to finishing this ! ik its been a while since we spoke but much love to u angel <3 may u always have the best !

Begrudgingly the students lag off the bus at 10pm, finally having reached their destination.

Tired and sore from their journey the teachers find no trouble in distributing bedrooms for everyone.

When your name is called out along with Tiffany you internally groan - great you think one of the most plastic girls in the school all to myself.

You grimace but make no argument as you could have gotten worse you suppose.

As you grab your belongings and ignore her protests that she doesn't want to room with a loser like you, a dark clad figure pushes past you, almost tripping you over.

Angrily you shout

"Watch where you're going you prick"!

Yet he doesn't so much look in your direction.

Under the dim moonlight you can faintly make out the low blunt of a cigarette in a tattoo clad hand - so it was the infamous Jungkook.

Honestly you didn't understand why all the girls fawned over him when he was just a rude and ignorant asshole. Sure, he had a pretty face but no good soul to match.

Calming yourself, as it was unlikely that you'd ever receive an apology from the school rebel you just head to your new room.

The school had organised a biology trip so that you could gather authentic evidence on the correlation of birds and wood growth in a certain designated area and honestly you were excited- not having enough expenses to get out of town when you were younger meant that this was a treat for you and paired with you being a biology major your inner geek was surfacing pretty quickly.

You move into your room and begin unpacking your things ignoring the chatter coming from your new roommates.

You set everything nicely, precisely -just to your liking. Maybe some would call you fussy, but you like to think of yourself as organised and classy.

You don’t have many thoughts that night as you lay down for bed, but you do hear the news playing in the background.

" a killing has not been sighted for a time breaking the pattern of the 1-week intervals in which they have been happening, but police still advise to remain on high alert at all times. "

You shudder as you think about it, a killer on the loose in the country and everyone powerless to stop him.

He fed of the insecurities of people, the fear of not being safe. He did a damn well good job at it as well.

You look outside and see the police on night duty setting up, the country while terrified also was reluctant to admit the threat and instead of protecting you properly they had merely sent police force units as glorified bodyguards to ' keep you safe '.

You sigh, as you climb under your covers those problems seem like a long way away from you as you drift off with an empty mind.

It was morning, the sun was shining brightly through the windows giving an orange glow to the room.

You were up before your roommates, had brushed your teeth and were already preparing for your project.

You had to do well, you were depending on a scholarship for university, your family could simply not afford it otherwise.

When your first signs of morning hunger begin to strike you venture outside your room in order to satiate yourself. You find that it’s still quiet only a few students up like yourself, you find a coffee machine and immediately begin to make one for yourself.

“While you're at it could you make one for me too".

a deep voice drawls out.

You almost jump out of your skin at the sound his voice breaking the silence you had been enjoying. Jeon Jungkook.

You scowl at him, choosing to ignore him carrying on making your own cup.

He whistles under his breath.

“wow, edgy or a bitch? I can’t decide".

He taunts you.

You roll your eyes at him and sigh in annoyance, his eyebrows raise at this.

“you’re clearly not a morning person".

He speaks.

You mutter under your breath.

" or maybe I’m just not a YOU person, not everyone lives to be nice to you. "

He lifts his hands up in a mock surrender.

“Okay, okay I get it it's a bad time for you jeez.... I suppose I'll have to make my own coffee".

He moves closer to you, totally invading your personal space, clearly, he had never heard of a personal bubble! You scowl and try to move away but he’s faster and is hovering over you before you know it. He looks down at you with those pretty dark eyes.

They’re so gorgeous.

Not that it matters to you because he is still an asshole, and he still ruined your morning.

“get out of my face Jeon Jungkook".

You say between clenched teeth.

You’re not some sort of pushover.

Yes, you're clever, as society classes a nerd but you're not one to let people walk all over you.

If he’s shocked, he doesn’t let on, just hums and lets you walk away, which you do, a little aggressively. You got back to your room and let out a sound of annoyance, the girls are still sleeping.

You sigh.

This was going to be a long trip.

After an uneventful morning, the wait was over and finally the teachers had called you to gather in the common area. Much to your dismay however there would be no actual data collecting until the police had secured the area, which meant that your whole day was pretty much wasted. The other students were chatting and gossiping and being idiots as per usual.

It’s not that you thought you were better than them, it's just that they were so mundane, so lifeless. They were just living on with no sense of direction. You suppose that's what you get for attending a school for rich kids though.

You could never fit in.

So, you never tried. People took pity on you every now and then offered you a smile. You smiled back but that was it. Your thoughts are running and to clear your head you decide to go outside for a little breather.

There isn’t much, just a few abandoned train tracks that seemingly lead into nowhere, a few broken fences and lots of grass. Not much time after this you head to bed.

Finally, the day had arrived, you could collect your samples.

You are so glad that it’s an individual project because you honestly cannot even imagine working with one of those air heads.

You shudder at the memory of having to work with Taehyung last semester for a chemistry practical.

You had to basically pull all the weight for your grade.

So, you get on working your way through your work and proving or disproving your hypothesis.

You’re pleased at the work that you completed. Not entirely satisfied but satisfied enough, for now.

You let out a stiff yawn, you need to stretch and need a little fresh air since you had spent the last few hours writing up your data and making graphs to compliment them.

You forgo your jacket since the weather isn’t so bad.

It’s nice.

When you go outside there are quite a few students already there, goofing around. There is also a pretty scenery, that in all honesty you had not appreciated until right now.

“Wow" you mutter under your breath.

Maybe I should try living outside my own head sometimes.

You spot some students surrounding a police officer and the curiosity gets the better of you and your soon wandering around the outskirts of their conversation.

Alas, it was merely a fruitless conversation. The police officer telling the other about his escapades and how they will be good in hands.

You lose yourself to your own thoughts again and look at the scenery. Until a little scuffle, breaks you out of your thoughts.

“What was that? There was a movement down there!! “

A boy called Josh calls out.

The police officer had also noticed it, then a sound of a gunshot sounds through the air.

The police officers curse and begin to get ready to scout the area. They want you all to go away, be safe inside but you’re all young adults- you want to see what’s going on.

Everyone gathers, watching the officers.

You scan the area; you spot the balcony that looks over the area just in front of the cabins.

Perfect you think that’s the perfect spot to see what’s going on.

So, you begin to climb up the steps to that room, when you get there, you can see everything.

You see a dead dog, a dead bird and the gun which had killed them laid out to where the officers were heading.

Fear grips your heart; your heartbeat is erratic. You think you see the shape of figure retreating into the distance but before you can look again, you feel the ground give way under you.

You let out a shriek, feeling yourself falling.

Is this truly how my life end you wonder I didn’t even get to complete my PhD?

Yet, instead of the hard fall that your body had been anticipating; your landing is softer and lets out a low grunt.

You're sure you're dead and have entered heaven.

Slowly you register a warm feeling under your legs and a secure one at your waist.

oh, this feels nice.

you think, eyes still closed until you hear some chaos in the distance.

what's happening?

Why is heaven so noisy? Are they partying because I’ve arrived? Was I actually an angel all this time am I coming home?

Ah you think this must be the angels- I knew all those days spent doing charity would help me.

You open your eyes and you’re met with bambi eyes staring back at you.

Slowly you begin to piece the rest of your angel together.

“Jeon Jungkook? “

You try and raise your voice to compliment your surprise, but it comes out in a more whisper.

“But this, Jungkook, you were an angel all this time? “you say.

His eyebrows knot together in confusion.

“What are you talking about strawberry?”

You gasp.

"Do we all get code names in heaven? You’re a pretty angel Jungkook. “

Then your eyes zero in on the scar on his cheek.

“Aren’t Angel’s supposed to be blemish free? Is that? Are you fallen? Wait.... for me? Are you my angel Jungkook? “

His eyes, which had previously shown confusion are now coloured with amusement.

“You talk a lot don’t you my little strawberry”.

You vaguely hear the sounds behind you before you begin to feel drowsy and fall limp the arms of your unexpected angel.

Jungkook was, of course no angel, your delirious ass was just doing and saying delirious things. You were going to be mortified when you woke up.

When you come to your room in a dark room, tucked into a warm bed. Your headaches aches as if someone is using a sledgehammer to hit it every second.

‘Agh’ you let out a pained groan.

What even happened? you wonder in your head.

You move quickly, getting out of bed ignoring your protesting limbs. You almost reach the doors until a pair of arms trap you.

‘woah woah where do you think you're going?’

You let out a scream, completely startled. A hand comes to cover your mouth.

‘man, you really do have a set of lungs, don’t you? ‘

You stop struggling in his embrace to match his voice to a face. Its familiar.

‘Jeon Jungkook?’ you let a little unsure and panic still evident in your voice.

‘your one and only’

You frown.

‘mine?’

He smirks at you,

‘that's right yours strawberry’.

You shake your head.

‘are you smoking something? Are you high right now?’

He pouts a little then, it changes his look completely. He looks a little cute.

‘you don't remember? ‘ he cocks his head to the side and points to himself. ‘I'm your angel’.

You scoff.

‘Please in what world are YOU an angel? You're far from it’.

Then it all comes back to you.

Jungkook watches as the realisation begins to show on your face.

‘Oh my god I had a concussion, you cannot be serious right now ‘

He chuckles.

'The words still came out of your mouth' Jungkook counters, he leans closer to you, his face way to close for your liking.

You feel your face grow warm from his proximity, but you don't give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

You scoff and push him away.

‘You're insane’.

He accepts the distance you've placed between the two of you and he chooses to smirk at you from where he is standing.

‘And you're crazy for me’.

You let out an incredulous laugh, not believing him.

‘Oh, my lord, please shut up for the sake of my sanity’.

He chuckles at your flustered state and you scramble your brain to find a change of subject.

‘okay whatever now just excuse me because I need to go back to my room’.

You move to begin walking to the door, but his voice halts your movements.

‘This is your room now’.

You whip around to face him.

‘What?! Ha as if Jeon, why would they room us together- were supposed to separate for the opposite genders- which I totally get when you're involved’ you say disbelief painting your voice. You whisper the last part though.

He puts his hands into his pockets and shrugs.

‘Protection?’

You set him a hard stare.

‘Save your lame ass men superiority talks for someone else i am having a severe case of I'm not interested’.

Why the hell would you need Jungkook for protection, it reeks of patriarchy and you hate it.

He shrugs.

‘Listen princess I don't know why either really to be honest but I'm not complaining-’

You don't bother entertaining him for much longer.

This can't be true. You cannot be paired into a room with him. He cannot be your new roommate - heck now tiffany doesn't seem so bad. Flirting asshole, you mutter under your breath as you begin searching for your teacher.

You only learn a bitter truth, due to the collapsing of the room you had to be relocated into another room and the only person without a roommate was Jungkook. They ‘trusted’ you enough that you would be able to handle it and not to do anything you were not supposed to.

‘We trust you, y/n’ was what she had told you.

You spend your time cursing out both her and Jungkook as you gather your belongings to move into your new room.

You're so caught up in your own thoughts that you don't notice a foot that comes out to trip you.

You look up and see the faces of three stupid bitches.

Tiffany Jessica and Irene.

They seemed to consider themselves above everybody else, though you've no idea why. Aside from flawless looks they seemed to live pretty empty life in your eyes. They were living definitions of empty shells walking around.

You get up quietly from the ground, you'll gain nothing from engaging with them, maybe you'd lose a few brainless. You just want to go back and rest - your head is killing you.

But to your disappointment they begin to talk.

‘Well, well well, if it isn't the school's new slut moving into MY boyfriend's room’.

You have to let a little laugh at this. This one is seriously deluded. Jungkook didn't do relationships you knew that. Everybody knew that. They had hooked up about 3 months ago and even though he does his best to ignore her she still insists that he is her boyfriend. It's just pathetic and a bit sad you suppose. Her obvious attraction to him which he just does not reciprocate.

She becomes enraged at your actions.

‘listen here you little bitch you better not even think of starting anything with my man-’ she spits out at you.

You snap back then, unable to hold your tongue.

‘I am not a slut, and I will not go after your man- which fyi he is not. He is a human and he doesn’t belong to you he never has’

She grows red at your words.

‘you little piece of shit-’

She raises her hand but just then a voice interrupts her and she halts her actions.

‘well if it isn't my new roomie, l’ll take that from you strawberry’ Jungkook says, too cheery for your liking, your still contemplating hitting Jessica.

Jessica begins speaking up, but he ignores her turning to you.

Your mouth almost drops open at his dismissal of Jessica but then again, she is annoying, and he cannot be immune to that.

‘Jungkoooook’ she whines when he doesn’t respond to her the first time.

He still doesn’t entertain her.

He moves to take your things from you, but she speaks again, latching onto his arm.

‘just leave her -cshe's just an annoying stuck-up bitch’.

He responds to this under his breath laughing.

‘reminds me of someone ’

She doesn't understand his comment.

‘huh?’ she says almost comically.

‘who baby?’ she pouts at him ‘my poor baby having to deal with such people, just leave with me and we can-’

‘no’ he sets her with a hard stare.

It's like she has forgotten that you're there, so you decide to use this to your advantage, letting Jungkook deal with them. You move to get your suitcase, but a hand stops yours. Its Jungkook.

‘I don’t think so strawberry - I'll be getting those for you’.

You turn to look at him scowl adorning your features.

‘I don’t need your help Jeon’.

He smirks at you.

‘no no - I insist’.

He dismisses Jessica with a wave of his hand and begins to walk away your suitcase in his hand, which prompts you to follow along.

‘What. Was. That. Jungkook?!’ you say when the door closes, you’re fuming because he had made it seem as though you were dating or doing things together which meant that they would keep bothering you, which is just something that you don’t want.

He turns around to face you.

‘oh, don’t get your panties in such a twist, I just needed to get the fuck away from her’.

He sounds angry and this is the Jungkook that you are more accustomed to. Not the flirty one you have been seeing. Hopefully he had given up on whatever he was trying to achieve with that. He was a rude asshole who was just to used to seeing things come out in his favour.

‘excuse me, you just fuelled her whack ass thoughts and next time don’t use me as your escape route’ you say matching his hostile tone.

‘oh, don’t be such a priss, it saved you as much as it saved me’.

An exasperated noise escapes your throat.

‘well maybe you should have kept it in your pants lover boy’.

He sets you with a hard stare.

‘oh, shut up - you don’t know me’ he grits out.

You cock your head to the side much like he had done to you earlier in the day.

‘hmmm I think I know you pretty well Jungkook, you're not as unreadable as you like to think, Jeon Jungkook the infamous bad boy who uses girls to fuel his ego and is used by girls to fuel their own ego and status quo among their own stupid--’

You do not get to finish you sentence however because you're harshly being pinned to the door. His grip on you is hard and it stings but you meet his gaze.

‘shut the fuck up y/n’ the tone of his voice is almost carnal, animal like.

You seriously had hit a nerve.

‘I go beyond your perceptions of me- you little miss goody two shoes’.

You spit back in his face.

‘I've yet to see you act more like a crazed rabbit Jungkook and to be honest I don’t plan on finding out the depths of your character either. I don’t fucking care about you’.

You push him aside and move to unpack your suitcase.

He mutters something under his breath that you can't hear, and he walks out slamming the door behind him.

‘well, that was fun’ you say and begin to take out your notes and books that you will need through the day.

When you wake up the next you feel like you’ve been hit by a ton of bricks. The painkillers had given you the illusion that you were okay. You look a mess, you're tired, you cannot believe that this happened. You had been looking forward to this for so long, they had told you that another student would be collecting your data. Your new roommate. Jeon Jungkook. He was going to be collecting your data.

This is preposterous! He would probably sabotage you on purpose! This cannot happen, but they wouldn’t budge from their choice. You huff as you look out of the window, where you could be collecting your data along with the other students. Darn you and your curiosity.

They always did say didn’t they- that curiosity killed the cat.

Your walking around the room, pacing- that’s how bored you are. You had reorganised your things 3 times and colour coded all you notes, redrew your graphs, you had done everything that you thought would keep you busy but here you are sitting with nothing to do. You look around the room see Jungkook's things laying on the ground.

You sigh into the empty room again and just lay down waiting for them to come back. You end up falling asleep.

You're stirred from your sleep, quite rudely by a book being thrown at the foot of your bed. You sit up, still groggy and look at Jungkook.

‘what the hell man’

He stares at you blankly.

‘There's your work priss’

You're not bothered by his hostile tone instead open the book and seeing what he had done, or you suppose looking at it what he had not done. The more you look at the work the more the frown on your face deepens.

‘what the hell is this Jungkook?’

He looks up at you annoyed.

‘the work? Thought you were meant to be a genius?’

You scowl at him.

‘this Jungkook? Is unacceptable a nursery kid could do way better than this !’

He rolls his eyes at you.

‘and? That’s what you're going to get priss so deal with it’.

You make an exasperated sigh.

‘you've used the wrong measurement and everything Jungkook’.

‘look - I don’t care. I didn’t want to do this for you anyway’.

‘like I wanted YOU to do it for me’.

You sigh,

You keep bumping into him everywhere, you know he is your roommate but he is always there at the cafeteria taking the last donut which you had been craving pushing in line, making unnecessary comments and he makes the room so messy!

It’s the same thing for the next few outings, Jungkook comes with the same half assed versions of the data you need.

You try, you really you try so hard to use the data sets he provided but its no use. They're absolutely useless, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Your going to sneak out early in the morning, you have to sneak past the guards which as you’ve gathered won't be as hard as one may think because they are not good or much invested in their job anyway.

You prepare yourself and head to set out in the morning. You quietly get up so as not to disturb or wake Jungkook. If he sees you, you know that there will be trouble.

You throw on a hoodie and grab a notebook, a pen and your watch. You have to be back before anyone can notice that you're gone. You steel yourself one last time, giving yourself a pep talk and sneak out. You hold your breath as you walk past the room of your supervisor and out the back door of the cabins.

This isn't so bad you think. Once you're out of sight of the guards and you think your safe, you let out a sigh of relief and do a little shimmy out of your happiness. You are so pleased and proud of yourself. What you didn’t know that behind you, watching your every move was a boy covered in tattoos with a cigarette in his hand watching you with an amused face.

Jungkook was, not as you thought asleep when you had snuck out. He was also outside, leaning on the side of the building a cigarette in his hand, he couldn’t sleep that night, it happened to him on most nights so he routinely wakes up to have a smoke. On this particular day there is not the usual eerie morning silence that he is used to, but a few grunts and hisses to accompany it. He furrows his brows.

Is that? He thinks y/n!?!?!?!?!?

No way he thinks what the hell is she up to?

Then he catches sight of your notebook and pen.

'Oh, what a nerd' he mutters under his breath. Then he smirks.

He can totally use this to his advantage.

He stubs his cigarette, pulls his hoodie over his head and follows you.

Your heart is still racing you honestly cannot believe that you. l/n f/n are doing this.

‘What a badass’ you say into the silence.

‘Badass? Sneaking out to do bloody work is your idea of badass?’ a voice speaks up behind you.

You shriek startled and are met with Jungkook.

Why is it always him?

‘what in the bloody tarnation's.... are you trying to kill me Jungkook?!’ you say putting your hand on your heart.

He grins pleased at the reaction he had elicited from you.

He cocks his head to the side.

‘what the hell are you doing here ?!’ you hiss at him.

‘could ask you the same thing strawberry’ he replies.

You look at him.

You were so sure that you had been quiet, how could he be here to ruin everything.

‘you do realise that I actually have name, and it's not strawberry’ you say to him.

He shrugs.

‘Yeah but you always smell like them’.

You scoff;

‘and you always reek of cigarettes.’

He frowns but then asks you again.

‘what are you doing here?’

You think of excuses,

‘I'm - I'm on a walk’ you say.

He lifts his eyebrow up.

‘a walk?’

You nod.

‘that's right for my daily exercise its been a pain to be stuck indoors’.

He snorts.

‘you're on a walk with your graph paper pad and pencil case?’

You curse inside your head.

‘yeah I am a nerd after all’ you say, hoping and praying that he’ll just let you go on your way.

He doesn’t

‘I don’t know, you look awfully suspicious to me, do tell why you're heading to the sight of our data collection points when the trail track is in the opposite direction?’ he says.

You rack your brains for an answer.

‘well, I like an adventure’ you say, standing straight.

‘oh, is that so?’ he says laughter infiltrating his tone.

‘yes’, you say meeting his eyes.

‘hmm’ he says ‘I don’t believe you’ he says.

‘do you wanna know what I think?’ he continues.

He takes one step closer to you.

‘I think that our resident miss goody two shoes is sneaking off when told specifically that she can't’ his gaze burns into yours

You feel yourself going red out of embarrassment.

‘I literally have no idea what you're talking about Jungkook' you say breathless.

He leans closer and you can feel his body heat, he continues to bore his eyes into your own and you almost fall into his gaze until you feel your book being snatched out of your hand.

‘HEY!’ you say reaching for it.

But he holds it higher than himself, opens it to the last written on page.

‘new data collection points’ he reads out ‘and oh would you look at that ! It has todays dates written on it’ he says looking down at you with a squint in his eyes.

You huff.

‘well obviously I had to do this because how on earth could I let your lame ass results and data reading be used for my final piece – I'm not looking to fail’ you say venom laced in every word.

He scowls at you.

‘there was nothing wrong with my results princess’ he grits out.

‘oh, please save it’ you snap back ‘you didn’t even use the same measurements – your hopeless’.

‘well, if I'm so fucking useless you should do my work for me’ he says.

You set him a level stare.

‘what?’

‘you heard me’ he says with a roll of his eyes.

‘and why in the hell would I do that? I don’t care if you fail Jungkook, heck I don’t care if you get kicked out’ you tell him.

He shakes his head.

‘well, I mean I could go back right now and tell Miss Taylor-’ he begins.

You narrow your eyes at him.

‘You wouldn’t dare’.

He holds a staring contest with you.

‘oh, wouldn’t I?’ he says.

You both hold each other's gazes before you give in.

You cannot believe the audacity of this asshole.

‘fine whatever asshole’ you say folding your arms and turning around.

He grins in victory and places your notebook back into your hands.

‘chop chop partner get to it’ he says.

You glare at him.

‘partners pull equal weight Jungkook ‘

He rolls his eyes.

‘I don’t really care – you just need to get a move on’.

You turn around no longer wanting to deal with his annoying ass.

You make it forward a few steps before you stop and turn around.

‘why are you following me?’ you ask him.

He rolls his eyes at your apparent dumbness.

‘well smartass, there is a killer on the loose if you didn’t know’.

You freeze up for a second,

Shit

You had almost forgotten. You don’t let him see that you're scared.

‘and? ‘ you say feigning composure.

‘what the hell are you going to do if he pops out of the woods anyway?’

He shrugs.

‘I dunno actually a lot more than you could do anyway’

You stare at him.

‘I could be a black belt in karate for all you know’.

He laughs.

‘okay princess whatever - I just need to make sure that you're not going to fuck this up’.

So, you turn going to the place you need to, to collect your data pieces.

With having to do Jungkook's work as well, it takes a lot longer to complete than you would have liked.

He is surprisingly bearable in the mornings that you both sneak off though. He doesn’t say much. Just watches you – pretends he isn't though.

You catch him once. Its been about 2 weeks since you started this godawful task, and Jungkook's notes and work were in dire need of help so its taking you time. This time however you meet his gaze before he is able to pull away.

You cock your head to the side.

‘what are you staring at?’ you say placing your hands on your hips.

He says something inaudible under his breath.

‘what was that?’

He snaps at you.

‘do you think you have tie to stand around making idle talk with me? The work ain’t going to do itself princess.’

You huff in annoyance.

How dare he! This was just plain wrong anyway I should not even be doing this, but you knew it was the only way. You couldn't risk getting caught and with Jungkook you wouldn't be surprised if he really did rat you out you to all the teachers. And if he did well, you wouldn’t be receiving a very good reference.

It was during an early morning that you hear Jungkook walk off into the distance. Probably to smoke, such a bad habit you tsk.

But you're also done for the day – so you begin to head back on your own.

You feel the grass brush against your feet as you walk back. You’re humming along to that song that was always on the radio, when you hear it. A little whimper - then a cry. You know that you shouldn’t go to look, you know that you're paying for your curiosity already and you don’t need another thing to happen, but you just cannot help yourself!

You follow the sound, going on a detour from the track.

You do consider yourself somewhat of a badass but a serial killer? Yeah, they kinda scare the shit out of you. You hold your breath and walk as quietly and slowly as you can. You hear the whimper again to your left but its deeper into the woods.

As you walk closer you see a pool of blood - your eyes widen, and your heartbeat becomes erratic.

‘what the fuck?’ you whisper into the silence.

You walk closer to the body of the animal and you can feel your knees grow a little weak you can see a white paper which has been tainted red with the blood of the animal that was killed.

You gasp, taking it up in your hands. Your hands also become stained with the redness.

It's in Morse code.

-.-- --- ..- / ... .... --- ..- .-.. -.. -. .----. - / -... . / .-- .- -. -.. . .-. .. -. --. / --- ..- - / .- .-.. --- -. .

(YOU SHOULDN'T BE WANDERING OUT ALONE)

You look at it for a while and rack your brains to be able to translate it but no such look. Your mind is busy running at 100miles per hour. As you try and clear your head and look at the note one more time, but a noise in the distance pulls you way from any semblance of concentration that you could have obtained.

You frantically look around trying to locate where the sound had come from. Your senses are all on a high right now. You shove the piece of paper into your pocket and begin to go back the way that you came. After the first few steps you begin running your head running wild with the idea of being found dead in ditch. Your nearly at the main path which you had strayed from. You make it onto the path, and you bend over catching your breath when two arms encircle you from behind.

You let out a scream.

A hand is placed over your mouth.

‘shut the fuck up y/n’.

You recognise THAT voice. Its Jeon Jungkook. Why is this motherfucker always trying to scare you? Your turn around and hit him on the chest,

‘what the actual hell Jeon, you gave me a bloody heat attack and a half’.

He doesn’t respond. He is looking at you, his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes have a glint of anger. He is furious.

‘where the fuck did you go y/n?’ he says, he holds your wrist stopping you from hitting him again.

He holds it in the air holding your gaze.

‘I was.... walking back’ you didn't want him to know what you had found. He would probably tell you it was a bad idea to even translate it. Which it was, but what is life if not for taking risks?

You yank your hand from his grasp.

He looks at you an unreadable expression on his face.

“you’re a fucking liar “he says.

You scoff.

“oh please, what’s it to you anyway jungkook, you left me first “

He doesn’t say anything, but observes you, trying to look for signs of what you’re hiding.

He had found one too, a dead animal and a note written in Morse.

But he could read it and he knew he was in trouble

“Be careful, or your little girlfriend may be snatched from right under your arms “

He swore under his breath as he read it and immediately began to make his way back to you.

“strawberry?” he calls out but you’re not there.

You’re not there and he hates the feeling of dread that sits in his stomach.

He runs back the way you came, but he still finds no trace of you

“fucking hell where did she go?”

He almost gives up and is going to tell the police when you appear before him, out of breath and you look terrified.

He knows you’re lying, if you were where, you said you were, he would have seen you.

He narrows his eyes at you again.

“I left for two seconds and you ran off. Where the fuck did you go? “

He asks, he wants you tell him, needs you to, he’s overcome with this sense to protect you but you don’t trust him. He needs to change that.

He lets you believe that you have him fooled, that he believes your story and he begins to walk back to the cabins right before the call for breakfast is sounded. You follow after him breathing in a sigh of relief that he had believed you.

That night you find it difficult to sleep. You need to find out the meaning of the Morse code, but you don't have access to a book that will help you translate, meaning that you will have to ask around without looking too suspicious.

You decide that a police officer would do nicely, if you seem overly invested in their job, they would just give you the information.

You spot the officer who looks younger than most, you remember his name.

Park Jimin.

You approach him cautiously.

“Officer park?”

He turns around to face you, smiling softly.

Oh, he’s cute you think.

“yes miss?”

You smile at him warmly.

“nothing serious it’s just that I was wondering if you would like some company, it must be a little boring for you out here on your own “

You say to him and you’re glad you asked him because either way his face breaks out into a smile that has your heart fluttering.

“how very kind of you miss! And yes, a little company wouldn't hurt “, he grins at you.

As you strike up conversation, with the officer you fail to notice a figure dressed in black listening in on your conversation. Jungkook listens in as you try and get information out of officer. He knew it. You had also come across the same note, as he had. He wonders what yours said.

He leaves after a bit, leaving both of you oblivious to the fact that he was even there in the first place.

When you get back to your room, you see Jungkook sitting at the foot of his bed frown on his face.

You ignore him and write down the information you'd just got given by Officer Park. You felt a little bad manipulating him when he was so nice but you just had to know what it meant.

Jungkook speaks up.

“that was a nice conversation you were having with Officer Park “

He says,

You whip you’re head up to look at him and closing your notebook harshly.

“What? Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?”

He rolls his eyes

“Why would I be listening to the conservation of the school nerd with a cop? No, I just happened to hear in passing “

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding.

“That’s mighty rude of y-" you begin to retort before he cuts you off

“what’s a biology nerd like you need with Morse code?” He asks.

Your mind malfunctions for a moment until you bring yourself back together.

“A little extra knowledge hurts no one you know?” you say appearing nonchalant.

He narrows his eyes

“I know it”

You look at him

“you do?”

He nods,

“why need something translating?” he tries.

You think about it, but ultimately decided against showing him the note you found.

You have no clue what it says. You don’t want him understanding before you do.

You shake your head,

“No, I don’t “

You say, deciding enough is enough and you need to sleep now to be up in the morning.

The next morning you sleep in, meaning that you couldn’t do the work that was set out for you. You stretch and moan as you get out of bed when you sit up and open your eyes fully your locks onto the Bambi ones from across the room. You let out a shriek!

‘What the hell why were you watching me you creeper!’ you say pointing a finger at Jungkook.

He rolls his eyes at you.

‘oh, please don’t flatter yourself’.

‘why didn’t you wake me up? Its so late !’ you question him.

He looks at you and says words that you don’t think that you would hear.

‘I think that we should lay off for a bit strawberry’

You look at him in shock

‘but why!?’

He doesn’t really give you much of an answer in his usual Jungkook manner.

You sigh.

Over the next few weeks, you rarely bump into Jungkook, you see him sometimes in the cafeteria and you can always feel him just watching you it makes you grow warm when you notice his staring.

Jungkook is also going crazy. You drive him crazy.

You guess that you'll have to work at the same pace as everyone, truthfully you had actually caught up with your work that was missed a while ago, you were just doing extra readings to stay ahead. One step ahead of everyone. But you guess that that is going to be changed now.

It had been a while since you had been on your morning trips with jungkook and though you hate to admit it, you kind of missed it.

He wasn't as bad company as you thought he would be, he was oddly quiet which meant that without him talking as much, you really got to admire his beauty. And good lord was he handsome, you understand why people are attracted to him, when his mouth is closed, he’s fine. Basically, you became a little horny when you saw him, it had been ages since you had had sex even masturbated, since you now had room with him.

Jungkook has such strong sharp features which sometimes go all soft, if he pouts while he’s thinking or a bird catches his attention, his eyes will go big and doe like. It's cute. Everybody had two sides you suppose, yours was your horny side (lol what)

Okay maybe, more time to admire him was a bad thing, you did not need to have sexual fantasies with him, no, that was a big no no.

It's been a few weeks since Jungkook had asked you to lay low for a while and in that time, you had been asking around about the killer to the police. You tried your best not to seem suspicious about it though, if they caught on – well it wouldn’t exactly end well. So, you make slow progress, you did make progress though, however.

You could now understand the note and while it scared you, it also ignited something in you that you didn’t even know that you possessed inside of you. You wanted to outdo him, you want to find him, lead him into a trap or something like that anyway. You want to catch him.

Something in the back of your mind is telling you begging you to stop being so stupid, but you ignore and continue to daydream about catching this bastard.

But it can only cure your boredom for a while – you get bored and what better to do when you're bored than to read erotica novels?

You had packed this book with you – the secrets of the alluring painter in France. You had taken to reading at night time on some nights.

Like tonight.

You need a wind down, so you pull out your book, and it has such racy scenes that leave you clenching around nothing.

Your sexual imagination goes wild when you read the erotica in the book and the way they make it seem so fiery, you were no virgin - you knew what sex was like, but never has it been close to the way it is in the book.

You’ve allowed yourself to fall into this horrible habit, at night, when Jungkook is asleep to touch yourself, play with yourself, pretending it is you who is being touched by Kim Taehyung the painter with many secrets.

You feel yourself growing more frustrated with each passage you read, it becomes a little irritating and, you have to touch yourself or you'll go crazy, the man in the book was doing it so well, so hot.

Kim Taehyung, he was described as an utter beauty, soft black hair and soft eyes, a deep voice that just made the reader swoon, you close your eyes and reach your hands down to your shorts, they slip past the hem.

You wish you could moan, wish that you could be vocal, like you were in your bedroom when it was just you and your pillow, but there was one big problem and that was Jeon Jungkook.

Why did you have to room with him?

You lighten your breathing and listen for signs of him being awake, but he seems to be breathing really deep, he is asleep you assure yourself.

You turn the lamp off, at the side of your bed, setting the book on the bedside table.

You trail your hand down your stomach, much like Taehyung had done to the main character, he slowly lets his fingers flutter over the top of her shorts, and you do the same. You build the tension, like it's his beautiful hands working against you.

You pause and let your fingers slip past the hem of your panties, you trace over the fabric covering you - first over your mound, stroking sensually.

How had Taehyung done it?

Right yes, he had used his nails slightly and grazed over lightly, a slight pressure but nothing that hurt - it was just enough to make you squirm under your own touch.

You feel your own wetness, feel how obscene it is in the darkness of the night.

Jungkook is right there, and while it scares you, it also thrills you, you feel a new wave of arousal and adrenaline when you remember he is there.

Slowly and as quietly as possible you shuffle, moving to take your shorts off, it's a little loud but you think that you're okay, Jungkook is out like a log. After a moment you continue to tease yourself.

Running your fingertips over your lips, pressing down on your hole and clenching, withholding the need to hiss.

You raise your hand further and your fingers land right at the centre of your pleasure.

Your clit. Oh, the beautiful bundle of nerves.

You cover your mouth with a hand to stifle the moan that you almost let out when you begin to rub small circles around the sensitive nub.

When you can’t get enough your panties are next to go, and when the cold air hits your wet centre you have to hold your breath, shaky.

You reach down and gather your slick slowly, spreading it all over your centre, making yourself drown in your own arousal, you use your middle and ring finger to slide up and down at a pace that leaves you edged and eager for more, you need to bring yourself to the very edge to get yourself the release that you’re after, you free hand travels up to your ever sensitive boobs, you play with them, brushing over the nipple, making them perk and then groping them while you rub at your clit.

A dirty thought crosses your mind, when you remember the boy who was asleep across from you.

What if, he was the one to touch, the one touching you, with those beautiful hands of his, those big hands.

You stifle another moan, as you think about him, hovering over you, giving it to you just right. You had heard that Jungkook could actually make a girl cum while having sex, that made you a little interested. It’s just he always opens his mouth and is an ass and ruins everything. But right now, in your imagination, only his looks and reputation matter, you twist and turn his character to be someone that you can gain pleasure from.

You can the pleasure increase and you begin to fasten your speed until you feel the signs of your orgasm and then you pull away. Edging yourself.

Your breathing is a little heavy and your work on controlling it, both your hands go to fondle your breasts and you unconsciously lift your hips, humping the air, you lean down again and enter three fingers easily into your own heat.

The squelching sound heard is deafening in the silent room, your cheeks burn red and you pull out slowly, so that was a no no, you would have to focus on your clit for you orgasm. Which was fine because you were so sensitive from playing with yourself, you know that it would only take a few more strokes to get there.

You press the fingers that were just inside of you, against your sensitive bud and you rub in slowly circles and then fastening your place and then slowing once more.

Jungkook comes into your mind again, ugh, now his lips, his pretty pink lips and the way he licks them, and the way they glisten under the sun. What if they were attached to your clit, if he was using his face to give you pleasure, like Taehyung had done to the main character of the novel, God it was so filthy.

Its driving you insane and you love it, the frustration will only make your release all the more powerful.

After a while you feel the fire blooming in your bottom of your stomach, and you quicken your pace to the point where you feel light and the waves of pleasure rack over your whole body.

You press your hand to your mouth again to conceal the gasps that are escaping you, you sigh and fall back onto your pillow feeling so much better and lighter.

Gosh did that feel good. You were aware that in your mind alarms were going off in your mind. You had thought of Jungkook while masturbating. It was a line you have no idea why you crossed. How would you look him in the eye now?

After a while, you pull up your panties and shorts and you promise yourself a shower in the morning.

What you didn't know was that the raven-haired boy of your fantasies was in fact awake and now painfully hard as he listened to your filthy little moans and gasps, he grabs his own member in his pants, strokes slowly. He spreads the pre-cum over his member before setting the fast pace that he liked, his breaths through his nose – to conceal the way his breathing has become strained. His hair becomes damp from sweat and it sticks to his forehead. He came much faster that he would care to admit the thought of you right there yet unreachable the fact that you were so NAUGHTY under all that good girl.

Turning him on, making him needy.

He breathes heavy, thinking of you under him as he squirts out cum into his pants, Jungkook too showers in the morning after you.

After this Jungkook stays up at night, listening to you, seeing if you would do it again, you do and, on those nights, Jungkook cums at the same time as you. He feels a little pathetic, he knows that he can fuck a lot of girls in the class right, but it wasn't you, God he wants it to be you writhing underneath him.

It’s the next morning and you're getting ready for your shower.

You're gathering your clothes and shampoo and creams into a little bundle and are about to open the door to the shower, when it is opened for you. The song that you were softly humming gets stuck in your throat when you register that the door was opened by Jungkook.

A very naked Jungkook.

Your face grows red, and your eyes wander over his gorgeous body, the tattoos that trail up his arm and a few on his waist, God they looked amazing.

Your ogling comes to a stop when he clears his throat. Oh, shit you think - I was staring. You quickly look up and your eyes meet Jungkook's.

He is smirking at you and as soon as you meet his gaze, he lets his own wander over body – taken in the skin that was exposed in your pyjama shorts and a t-shirt that had been small for you since you turned 13 years old.

He looks up and down your body brazenly before meeting your eyes. He licks his lips, and you zero in on it. God it was so annoying that he was this hot.

How could this be happening now? When you had spent a while avoiding him? And him you? Why did this happen after you were thinking of him last night? Oh god you grow red again and you think what if he had heard you? God, that would be embarrassing. You look at his lips again, avoiding his gaze again but maybe his eyes would have been a better option because as soon as you look at his lips, the same filthy thoughts come back to you - you shift uncomfortably trying to calm yourself. In that time, you don't notice but Jungkook has come closer to you.

You register his closeness when a water droplet from his hair falls onto your cheek. You move away slightly.

You don’t realise it but in your extended silence of checking each other out the both of you have moved closer to each other. There is no longer what people would call a healthy distance between the two of you anymore. He looks down at you and licks his lips again. His hair is wet and the way he runs his hand through it – he looks so good like this. Your dirty thoughts run wild again. Its only when another water droplet from his hair falls onto your cheek that you finally snap out of it. You move a step back.

“You look a little hot strawberry is anything the matter?” He asks you, a teasing lilt on his voice.

It’s way too early for this, you cannot be dealing with this right now, not when your mind has gone on a memory flashback to last night and he was right here in front you, so very naked.

Still, you feign your ever composed self.

“I’m just fine” you say through gritted teeth.

“I need to shower and your kind of standing in my way” you tell him.

He chuckles, a deep chuckle, gosh how are you this horny in the morning? Stop it y/n you think.

“I don't think you really mind though do you strawberry, you seem to have a very different secretive side” he says, cocking his head to the side.

You blush, shit had he heard you?

“I have no idea what you're talking about Jungkook” you say to him “I need to shower though”.

You move to get away from his hearted stare but just before you enter the washroom, a hand grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back.

Jungkook looks at you, a deep and confusing stare.

“Be careful, it’s quite wet in there” he says and then his tongue pokes into the side of his cheek. Then suddenly, he lets you go and walks off to his side of the room, your left in shock at his words and quickly scurry to get into the bedroom before more heated tension breaks through.

You shake your head of all thoughts and quickly go into the shower, what you don’t realise is that you accidently drop something, the note with the raven-haired boy who you had left in the bedroom.

Its later on during this day that Jungkook approaches you.

'Hey strawberry’ he says to you.

You raise your eyebrows at him, what’s with his sudden kindness.

‘hey’ you reply voice dipped in surprised.

‘Oh, shut up, I just came to talk to you’.

You look at him.

‘I didn’t say anything but okay…. talk then’ you gesture your hands between your two bodies.

He lets out an exasperated gasp.

‘The note – did you find one?’ he asks. You still in the next sip of coffee that you were going to take. You feel yourself grow cold. How did he find out?

He looks at you.

‘So, you did’.

‘I didn’t say that’ you say tone slightly higher than normal – you were a terrible liar.

He laughs at you

‘Hmm is that so?’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about Jungkook’.

He looks at you, more serious this time.

“Listen y/n there's no point playing dumb, I found your stupid note anyway”.

You watch mortified as he pulls out the note that you had thought was in your pocket. Well shit then.

“I- I have never seen that before in my life Jungkook” you can't let him know; he would ruin everything - you convince yourself.

He looks at you, he’s getting annoyed that you're lying to him. He pokes his tongue against his cheek again.

“I suggest you stop lying”.

You scoff.

“Why would I ever need to lie to you your nobody to me Jungkook”.

Something akin to hurt flashes across his face for a few seconds before he slams his hands on the table.

“I don’t think you know what you're even getting into strawberry”.

You gather your belongings getting up, you need to get away from him.

“And I don't think you know what the fuck you're talking about Jungkook”.

You walk off leaving him there, but he follows after you,

“Listen I found one too, you don't need to be miss hero or anything”.

You carry on walking, not bothering to give him an answer, he would want to tell the teachers and everyone, they would cancel the trip and then how would you finish gathering your evidence? No, he was insane.

“I don’t know what you're talking about”.

‘you think your so fucking slick, don’t you? Asking around and acting unsuspicious but your wrong I could sense your stupid plan from a mile away’ he says to you, pulling you on your arm effectively stopping you so you can't walk away from him anymore. You struggle out of his hold.

‘and so, what? So, what if you know? What the hell are you going to do Jungkook? Tell on me? Are you going to threaten to tell the teachers because you know what? I’ve been thinking about it and I think they would much rather take my word for yours and all this work I’ve been doing for you – I could easily go right now and show the teachers and say that you forced me to do it!! ’

He looks at you angrily, looks like he is going to swear or curse you out but then his face relaxes.

‘you say that baby, but the truth is I have money and you don’t if I want to manipulate something I can because I have the means and power to do so, my dad's made himself something while yours totted away in the fucking garbage can’.

You feel the anger come over you and he smirks at you.

‘real fucking classy Jeon, yeah insult my parents – like it's their fault they were born into a world where people are born with silver spoons on their mouth, and at least my parents love me Jungkook’

His eyes flash with hurt

‘how do you now my parents don't love me you little bitch?’

You laugh an empty laugh at his face.

‘just look at you – you’re the very definition of boohoo my parents don't love me so I'm going to kick up a mess, so they notice me for once’.

He groans in frustration at your words then.

Somehow amidst your confrontation with Jungkook you had managed to reach your room, why are you here? Why did your feet have to leave you here?

You walk into the room and as soon as he gets in, Jungkook grabs you by the wrist and pins you against the door, your books and pencils fly across the room and while your mortified - he doesn't even bat an eyelid.

Your breathing is both heavy as you look each other in the eyes, waiting for the other to say something.

You struggle against his hold, uselessly, curse him for doing his workout routine every morning.

“You found the fucking note y/n when you went missing in the woods that day, the note that’s in Morse code, the note that you spent a week trying to decode, don't act fucking dumb” he grits out.

You still try and keep up your act,

“I have no clue in the world what you're talking Jeon, I think you're going fucking insane” you seethe out

He growls, yes, he growls.

“Your seriously fucking pissing me off now, I know you did, I know you found it”.

“Fuck off, Jungkook does it look like I care if I am fucking pissing you off”.

He looks into your eyes again and whispers something like “fucking priss” before he is connecting your lips in a kiss, a kiss that is full of ego, passion and heat. You can feel in searing through your body so fiery, setting your nerves alight.

He is relentless in his pace. His mouth against yours and God indeed Jungkook is good kisser. Before you knees grow weak you move your hands to tangle in his hair and you pull at the end causing him groan against his lips, when he does you swipe your tongue into his mouth getting a taste. You pull harder, and he groans again. It was a sound that you know you would like to hear again.

His hands move from the door and one tangles in your hair while the other presses harshly on your waist. You gasp at the pleasure and at this he takes over, he fights your own tongue for dominance and once he wins, he is rough, he wants all his saliva in your mouth, wants his taste on you, wants you to feel him in every way.

When he knows that your just as enthralled by his kisses he pulls back to taunt you - whispering the words against you bruised lips.

“You act like such a fucking little priss don't you? Act like your better than me? Lying to me? Fuck you drive me insane”.

He attacks your neck now, leaving open mouthed kisses along your ear and neck. He nibbles lightly at a few areas and when he gets to just the right place - where your breath hitches and you move your thighs together he bites down harshly without warning and you try you best to suppress your moans. Not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

“I am better than you” you say to him breathlessly, “I don’t just act like it, I am”.

He bites harder at that and you wince - Jungkook is painting you skin wine and purple and your letting him and it feels so goddamn good. He pulls you back by the hair to look at him,

“You don't look much better than me when you are bending at my will, when you're looking so fucked out and I’ve done is fucking kiss you”.

Your answer is swallowed by a moan that you let out as he takes you breasts into his big hands, and squeezes hard, you pull him up from your neck and kiss him again, his lips, your lips bruising and fighting against one another.

He trails his hand down further and dances around the hem of your pants for a while, and you place your own over his, just as your about to lead him further down a knock is heard at your door.

You both freeze

“y/n?” A voice calls out.

You calm yourself before answering, still a little shaky.

“Yes?”

“Our guest speaker has arrived, I just thought you might like to ask him a few questions before he gives his talk”.

Jungkook swears under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“You fucking nerd”.

He pulls you back by your pony tail and the back of your head lands on his shoulder, he tilts you slightly, so he has better access to kiss and leave more marks against your skin.

“Ah- I thank you, I’ll come in an ah- while” you say, and you hear the footsteps walk off, Jungkook spins you around and he goes to kiss you again, but you pull away.

“No, just, stop I have to go and talk”.

He looks at you “you fucking nerd” he kisses you once more, like he can't get enough of your mouth.

You pull away again.

uh what in the fuck just happened you think.

This was not meant to happen.

“Look Jungkook, I did, that is my note and I- I’ll, we can talk just not now, okay? I-I have to go. This is important"

He doesn't say anything, just watches as you fix your appearance in the mirror, an appearance he had ruined, and he smirks a little in triumph. He watches as you gather your books that had been thrown onto the floor and he watches as your ass is on display for him and God, he wishes he could grab a handful, but he doesn’t. He just watches.

You walk out the room, without so much as looking at him again and he feels oddly rejected.

He knows that you had felt good, he had heard you groan against his mouth, grind against his clothed member but he hadn't ever been walked out on before. He's not sure what exactly he is feeling. Its not a good feeling - that he was walked out on and for some old ass lecturer too.

He watches the door close, and he sits and waits for you to finish being a nerd. But truthfully it is a little hot to him that you’re so independent, you do things for yourself, your confidence and your wit, it makes you fun, you piss him off, but your company is nicer than the ones that he is used to.

He sighs what the fuck is he getting himself into.

You take a breath as you exit the room,

What in the fuck just happened? you think.

Well, when you promised Jungkook that you would talk to him you hadn't been in your right mind. Why did you agree to that like fuck? You have no idea what to even say. How do you even start that conversation like...?

"Hey, was just wondering if you would like to you know? Go on a hunt for a serial killer with me?"

Gosh this was so stupid and the kiss, gosh your face heats up as you remember the way he had kissed you - oh so sweet and so naughty!

Gosh you were in bad, as an adult you decide to deal with the problem logically, you'll just ignore him. That will work, Jungkook had a small attention span anyway. You're sure he would forget. You really hope he does.

#jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #jungkookxreader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagine #jungkook series #bts x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts imagine #jungkook smut #jungkook #bts imagines #bts angst #bts fluff #e2l

370 notes · View notes

sweetchup · 3 years

Text

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 1: Just Keep Swimming // Ch. 2

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 4,000+

Masterlist

————————

Sounds of horns and shouting filled the air outside as you stood on the packed bus. Cramped in from every side, it was hard for you to tell where you were going. Not as if you were paying much attention anyways.

“Okay, you left fish and pasta in the fridge… he could use the tv or read a book for entertainment while you are gone…what about…” You ramble incoherently to yourself.

Even though the storm hit Athens hard yesterday, your studio art professor was still having classes today. Forcing you to leave Triton alone at home. You shouldn’t be nervous. There was no reason to. After all, Triton is a god, he was hundreds of years old.

But…, he was still a child. No matter how old or what type of being he is. He could still possibly injure himself or get into trouble. And that single fact alone made you feel sick to your stomach.

“Is this how parents feel leaving their child alone for the first time…?” You groan to yourself, leaning your head forward so it hits the window in front of you.

“Now Approaching *Athens International School of Art*. I repeat, Now—“ The robotic voice announces over the intercom. At the familiar name of your college, you squeeze your way through the other patrons on the bus to make your way to the doors.

Sweet, sweet air, you think to yourself as soon as you exit the bus. It was starting to get way too cramped in there. So much so, you wondered if it was a safety hazard. Though it wasn’t as if you were one to talk, you left a little boy alone—

“Argh!” You scream out, slapping the cheeks of your face. You needed to stop thinking of Triton. He was going to be completely fine. But, what if…

“I’m getting too attached already…” You groan to yourself. It had only been a day. One singular Day. But you were already smitten by the blonde haired child. “It doesn’t help that he's absolutely adorable as well…”

“Who’s adorable?” A voice calls out from behind you, making you jump in surprise. Whipping around, you let out a sigh once you identify who it was.

“Bryce… how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that…”

Bryce Kroger. He was studying abroad at Athens International School of Art for a year just like you except he was instead an architecture major. You met him by coincidence while taking art history so you didn’t know much about the guy, the only thing being the few stories he told you about his home country of Australia.

“Oi! It’s not my fault you're so skittish!” Bryce banters back with a huff.

“Whatever…”

“Eh? Wait, where you heading?” Bryce questions as he watches you walk away, “I thought you had Studio Art on Fridays?”

“I do. I’m heading to the library first though.” You yell back to the tall male who stayed put where he was standing. Not even bothering to follow you.

“You need to stop studying so much!”

“Shut up!”

“IT’S THE TRUTH!”

“SHUT UP!” You scream back with one final huff before storming off. So what if you studied so much. You just wanted to get good grades in the classes that counted. It’s how you got here in the first place. By working your ass off.

Unconsciously, you feel your hand twitch as you open the library door. So what if you spent hours studying. So what if you didn’t go out with friends that often. So what if you didn’t have a social life. So what—

You feel yourself pause, your expression turning sour. Lonely. That’s what you were. You were lonely. A miserable lonely girl.

“Miss!”

Startled out of your thoughts by the sudden call, you realize you were no longer standing at the front door but instead standing in front of one of the librarians. You must have unconsciously walked up to the front desk while you were lost in thought.

“A-Ah. Sorry, I was just looking for books on Leonar—“

You feel your voice trail off at the end as a book on the counter catches your eye. It wasn’t the gold detailing nor the leather texture. No. It was the simple words of “Greek Mythology: Tales of Zeus” printed neatly on the front.

“…Actually, Do you perhaps have any books about Poseidon?”

You just found something better to do with your time.

—.—.—.—.—

“Damn… this is extremely confusing…” You mumble to yourself as you glare at the pages of notes in front of you. Each book seemed to be a little bit different from the last. “Perhaps I should recap…”

Okay, so what makes sense to you is that Poseidon is the second eldest of three brothers and is the ruler of the seas. The things that don’t make sense are… practically everything else…

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream out of frustration right now.

According to the books, Poseidon has had many consorts over the years. One of them being Triton’s mother, Amphitrite…

“My mother… can be quite mean to other women. Even to some of the female servants around the palace. She believes that they are trying to seduce my father…”

…but that doesn’t match up with what Triton mentioned last night. According to him, it sounds like Amphitrite scared away any women that would even come near Poseidon. This also leads to another flaw in the mythology books. You doubted that Poseidon would be able to have an affair with any other women with Amphitrite antics, nevertheless have 10 other children with them.

“Triton also never mentioned having any other siblings…”

Letting out a groan, which you seemed to be doing a lot today, you banged your head against the table. It seems like these mythology books weren’t going to be of any help after all. Though…. you couldn’t help but wonder why the books were so off in the first place.

Lifting yourself back up from the table, you glare down at one of the book covers. It was blue, almost silvery in a way, with a giant black silhouette of Poseidon right smack dab in the middle. Or, at least, what Poseidon might look like…

“Well, my father is extremely strong and handsome. All the sea nymphs stare at him with big heart eyes half the time. Oh! B-but, father doesn’t pay any attention to them. Father is not a cheater like uncle Zeus…”

“…Is Father…? Oh. He’s alright… He’s nowhere as bad as my mother. He’s never hit me or anything. He’s just… cold. Extremely cold. He really just ignores me half the time…”

“…I do love my father…I just wished he would at least spare me a glance…you know?…Acknowledge his own son…”

“God damn jerk!” You hiss out in anger as you push the book aside. Your blood practically boiling at even the slightest thought of Triton’s father, Poseidon. He doesn’t deserve to have such a good and nice son like Triton.

However, as much as you want to curse out Poseidon more, you realized class would be starting soon and you really had to get a move on.

“Shit. I can’t afford to be late again.”

—.—.—

“Ugh. Why did the professor have to assign me this type of painter…?!” You whined to Yuri. Class had already ended by then with the professor long gone. The only people left were students that were conversing with others or trying to get a head start on their paintings.

“Well, it didn’t help that you barged into class late for the second time this week, (y/n).” Yuri explained with a sigh as she continued to set up her palette, not even sparing you a glance.

Yuri Saito, Or rather Saito Yuri, was an abroad student from Japan. She was the closest person you knew at the college as you both were similar in many ways. Especially since you were both homebodies.

“I get that but at least I showed up in the fir—“

“(Y/n)!” A voice shouts out interrupting your talk with Yuri. You turn around to see Bella Woods, a student apart of your major, approaching you. “(Y/n). You were part of your student council back in high school right?”

“Uh, Yeah. Why?” You answered hesitantly. You weren’t sure why, perhaps instincts, but you were already having a bad feeling about this situation.

“Well I need your help on something…” Bella explains, her voice trailing off at the end as she grabs something from her bag. It’s a piece of paper, a flier to be exact.

“A…A Cultural Festival?”

Bella nods her head at your words, “Yeah. The college wanted to put something on for the public to show what our art school is all about and Mrs. Yamamoto suggested this. A-Apparently, it’s something schools and colleges do back in Japan.”

“B-But how can I help? Wouldn’t it make sense for someone like Yuri to do this? Since she’s from Japan and all.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know a single thing about japanese culture festivals.

“Hey don’t drag me into this, I’m busy.” Yuri counterbacks with a glare before returning back to her painting.

“Well… you see… The school wanted to change Mrs. Yamamoto’s idea a bit since they really didn’t know anything about Japanese Cultural festivals either. So it’s like a Cultural festival, kind of not.” Bella rambled. You could tell all this information was scrambling her brain as well. “Basically, it’s like a Greek version of a Cultural festival where each major picks a Greek god and plans an event or booth around it.”

“…Okay… So it’s just like a school festival in a way?” You questioned cautiously. This was a lot for you to take in at once.

“Yes. Precisely. We are just taking inspiration from Cultural festivals.”

“Okay. Okay…” You answer as you rub the back of your neck, “I still don’t understand why you need me though?”

“Well, I kind of… kind of saw you reading the mythology books in the library today and we need more people on the planning committee…” Oh, god. It seems like everything is coming back to bite you in the ass, “…Just. Please (y/n), We need your help!”

You let out a small sigh as you watch Bella give you a pleading look, “Fine…”

“Yay—!“

“But…“ You start cutting off Bella’s cheers, “But I’m taking care of something really important right now at home so I can’t always make meetings and things like that. I can help with planning but that’s it. Okay?”

That was correct. As much as you wanted to help Bella and your department out with this festival, Triton was your top priority right now. His care and needs were above all else right now, even your own. So if this would get in the way of that then you would drop this project instantly. Instantly.

“Of course! Oh, thank you (y/n)!” Bella cheers, her body visibly relaxing now that a stress has been taken off your shoulder, “Well, I’m not sure if you're busy right now but… the committee is currently planning two classrooms down… so if you could…”

“I’ll go…” You sighed out. Damn, what’s with you lately. Less than two days ago, people hardly approached you. Now you are as busy as a bee. A person magnetic… Well, more like god magnetic as wel—

Wait, a minute. You feel yourself tense up as a thought flies into your brain. If Gods could travel and spend time on earth, could they live here as well? Just like how Triton wants to?

Shit. What if some that live here are able to identify Triton? You could be in big troub—

“(Y/n)? Are you coming?” Bella calls, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Y-yes.”

It seemed you would have to worry about that later. Not that it mattered right now, you could always just ask Triton when you got home. And even if he didn’t know the answer you would just have to be careful bringing him out of the house. Yeah… you would just do that.

“Guys, I would like to introduce you to (y/n). She’s a fine arts major just like us and knows about mythology. I think she would make a great addition to our group.” Bella introduces you as you enter the room. As you looked around the group of only 4 other people, you realized you really didn’t know anyone.

That is until everyone started to introduce themselves. You never heard of the first three—Brian, James and Kyle—but you found the last name, Marissa Samudra, quite familiar. You wonder if she was that Marissa.

Who you were talking about was Marissa, the hottest girl in school Marissa. Well, at least that’s what all the boys in your major told you. The girl in front of you at least seemed to fit the part. With white silk like skin, light green eyes and dyed coral pink hair, she truly was a sight to see.

“Okay. So shall we get started.” James suddenly spoke up, seeming to want to get the meeting started. You nodded your head in agreement before taking a seat next to Holly. As well as across from Marissa. “Well, I think we should first decide which god we should do. Culinary, Music, Visual performing arts and architecture already have chosen Aphrodite, Hades, Ares and Zeus. (Y/n)…”

You lift your head up at the call of your name.

“…as you know the most about Mythology, who do you think we should pick?”

“Well,…” You feel yourself pause, your palms growing sweaty out of nervousness. You really didn’t know that much about Greek Gods, only the class you took last year and the books you skimmed this morning. You also didn’t expect so many of the main gods to be taken already.

“…How about…”

You needed to think of someone fast. Someone that would satisfy all parties here. Someone that would bedazzle people coming to the festival.

“…Poseidon…?”

Why… Why was that what your brain had come up with? Poseidon? The very god that you were cursing out this morning. Wishing near death upon.

“Fish man?” Brian questioned, letting out a small chuckle at his own joke, “You really want to go with Fish man as our god? Isn’t there anyone better?”

“I think Poseidon is pretty…cool.” You feel a shiver go up your spine as you compliment the man. It was official, you might actually puke. “…He’s the king of the seas. It gives us a lot to work with for his character. Especially since most Fine Arts students are good at realistic elements, we could really do well on painting or using sea life.”

“True… but—“

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

You are shocked as you hear Marissa cut Brian off. When you first sat down, she seemed totally uninterested in the topic at hand. Caring more about her hair and nails than anything else. But now, now, she was paying attention to every little thing. You couldn’t help but wonder why. “Oh sorry. I really like the sea. It holds a special place in my heart… you know?”

Oh, that makes sense. You totally forgot Marissa’s paintings were mostly about the ocean and sea. Never drifting off to other topics.

“N-no. That’s actually pretty cool. You know what, we should totally do Posedin… or whatever the dude’s name is. He sounds really cool.” Bryan agrees as he bashfully rubs the back of his neck. Gross, could he make it any less obvious that he was smitten by her. And not in a nice way either.

You feel yourself shiver as you watch him sneak small glances down at Marissa’s chest area. Disgusting pervert…

“Well, with that decided let’s move on…”

…Great… You could already tell this was going to be a long meeting…

—.—.—.—.—

Again, for what felt like the hundredth time today, you banged your head against the wall. This time however it was against the door of your apartment.

“Seriously… a Café…?”

Yes, a Café. That’s the brilliant idea your group came up with. An under the sea type themed café.

In hindsight it didn’t sound all that bad. You could have a couple of students paint some props and decorations. Then another couple of students who know how to cook plan out the menu. Maybe even borrow some culinary students if you were lucky.

But,… there’s that.

Outnumbered three to two, the boys of your group insisted the girls that are serving customers should wear togas. Togas. They stated it was to bring in more customers but it was pretty obvious they had other intentions behind it. Especially since they didn’t even bother waiting a couple of minutes afterwards to ask if Marissa wanted to be part of the waiting staff.

“Poor girl… I feel bad for her.” You mumble to yourself as you pull out your keys, finally unlocking the door to your apartment. You wished you could just beat all those men senseless with a baseball bat. “That’s actually not a bad idea… Could I bring a wooden club and say that it's part of the character? They seem to not know that much about—“

“Miss (y/n)!” You hear shouted as something comes barreling into you. Knocking you onto the ground right as you enter your apartment. “O-oops I meant to only say (y/n)…”

Even though you got the air literally knocked out of you, you still let out a small chuckle as you reached up to run a hand through the perpetrator’s locks. Triton’s blonde locks. “It’s okay. I only told you this morning to stop referring to me so formally. It will take time for you to get used to it.”

Suddenly, you wince at a feeling of pain as you move slightly. Triton sure was strong. You, honestly, wondered if he held back some strength when he jumped at you. If so, you wondered how strong Triton was nonetheless an adult god.

Speaking of an adult god…

“Hey Triton.” The boy lifts his head up at your call, “Do any gods live on earth?”

The boy seemed to take a moment to think, “Well kind of? Not really Greek Gods though. Most of them are too proud to live with humans.”

“Oh well that’s goo— Wait, a minute! Other gods are real as well!?”

Triton nods his head furiously, “Yeah pretty much all gods. As long as it is considered as one, it exists. There’s Nordic gods…, Indian gods…, Oh! Even Buddha. I like Buddha, even though I’ve only met him once. He introduced me to salt water taffy! It’s delicious.”

“I-I see…I’ll try to get you some then. Another time.” As much as you wanted to hide your surprise you couldn’t. Learning that Greek Gods actually existed was one situation but learning that All Gods existed was a whole nother ball game. Did that mean demons existed as well?

“Hey (y/n). Could I ask you a question?” Triton asks, suddenly seeming bashful all of a sudden.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Could I…” Triton pauses for a moment, “Could I call you…”

You leaned closer to Triton as his voice slowly got softer and softer at the end. His ears and cheeks were bright red as he waited for you to answer. However, you couldn’t answer him as you didn’t hear the last part of what he said.

“I apologize. Could you repeat what you said, Triton? I couldn’t hear the end of it.” You felt bad for asking him to repeat it as his face only seemed to get even more red when you asked.

“I-I… Could I call you… Mom?”

It was silent as his question, or rather request, fell upon your ears. You thought about it for a moment. Especially whether it was morally right for you to have him call you ‘mom’. Even if his true mother was a terrible person, she was still his mother.

Though, then again, She really didn’t act like his mother. Especially in all her hundreds of years of existence of having him. At least from what you’ve heard from Triton. She’s had plenty of chances to show her love for him and she never did.

“Of…Of course you can.”

You feel yourself smile as Triton’s face lit up. And you knew, Deep down inside, that you did the right thing. You would show this boy the love he deserved.

“Hey (Y— Mom.” You giggle at how Triton seemed to practically beam with happiness once the title left his lips.

“Yes, Triton?”

“Could we have dinner right now?”

You feel yourself jump up a little in surprise. Since you stayed later than what you usually would, due to the meeting, you didn’t have anything prepared ahead of time for dinner.

“Ah, yes. Do you think you could wait in the living room while I prepare it?”

“Of course!” Triton answers as he scrambles up off of you. As you make your way to the kitchen—which was technically in the same room as the living room—to start dinner, you find yourself drifting off into your thoughts.

You realized you really hadn’t thought this through. Taking care of Triton and all. Your apartment was small, he didn’t have his own room, he seemed to eat a lot more than a human boy his physical age and so much more.

You wouldn’t be able to buy a bigger apartment right now. Going through college and all. But you could take more shifts at work. After all, it was literally down the street. You were also good friends with the owner of the toy shop next door. You bet he would allow Triton to play with a couple of toys while you worked.

As you continue to list things you would need to take care of Triton especially if it was long term, Triton was watching cartoons on the couch.

“…Wonder cats will be right back!…”

As the show goes to commercial break, Triton feels himself let out a sigh. Television sure was awesome and all, much better than the plays and coliseum matches used to entertain gods, but he despised ads more than anything.

“Who in the world created such a malicious thing…”

Triton’s voice trails off at the end as the ad changes to another. As he stares at the screen, he feels a shiver shoot down his spine. As quickly as he could, Triton changes the channel to another before shakily dropping the television remote. A cold sheen of sweat breaks out all over his skin as he collapses back onto the couch.

To anyone else, the commercial before looked like any normal hair dye commercial seen on Tv. But not to Triton. Especially when he saw something oh so familiar.

“T-that hair color…” Triton feels himself shiver at the thought, “L-looked too much like Aunties. Mom’s…No…

…Amphitrite’s Sister.”

Author Note: Ahhh this chapter contained so much but I knew I couldn’t split it up. Especially if I was doing posting Tuesdays and Thursdays. I was worried that the time frame in between would mess my readers up. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this Chapter. I know there wasn’t a lot of Triton moments but I wanted to get the ball rolling on the plot so that things and certain characters (*cough* Poseidon *cough*) will appear soon. Well that’s it for now, see you next time :)))

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #snv #bivalve

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dennou-translations · 3 years

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Violet Evergarden: Booklet 3

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At that moment, I found myself thinking, “Aah, maybe if I disappeared, if I vanished right now, nobody would notice.”

Once I thought this, I could no longer think of anything else.

Before I realized, my hands and feet had moved. I slowly moved my whole body and left that place behind.

Nobody called for. Nobody tried to stop me.

Which was why I was now hiding. I was in a corner of a maze of roses in the royal palace of this forest kingdom.

I looked up at the sky. It was overcast. The air was a little heavy, so there was a chance of rain.

Was anyone looking for me by now? No, they might not have noticed. I could bet a hundred of Drossel’s white camellias that they hadn’t. “That wouldn’t be a bet,” someone said from within my mind.

——What will happen to me if I just stay here like this?

I tried to think calmly. Firstly, I would get hungry. My body would get bitten by insects. The sky was looking shady, so rain might come pouring down on me. I would get a fever from the cold, and then... and then... and then...

The power of my imagination was scarce, so the scenario ended there.

Stretching out my dress’s sleeves and removing my long gloves, I plucked the grass with a bare hand. Picking up some rose petals that had fallen to the ground, I threw them into the air even though they would not fly too far. I looked almost like a child trying to contain her bad mood. Most likely, if anyone saw me, they would wonder what on earth the queen of Fluegel was doing.

Why had I grown up to be like this? All I ever did was think big of small matters and be in a state of chaos. It was such a weak mindset, which people most likely wouldn’t expect to come from someone born in a family that was meant to rule a country.

“Members of the royal family are actually not supposed to expose their original selves. Under no circumstance should you forget that you must act with dignity and be a role model to your subjects.”

Even though I had already become a wife, I behaved like a little girl.

“However...”

I had experienced a romance like the ones that young girls dream with.

“...from my long time working in the court...”

I fell in love and won my beloved lord over.

“...these have been the most memorable Public Love Letters. Yes... in a good sense.”

After running and running, I was now living the aftermath of that.

My name is Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel. Already a year had passed ever since I married off to Fluegel.

Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel and the Forest Kingdom

Drossel and Fluegel – no matter what could happen to these two nations in the future, they had me as their intermediary princess. If I happened to die in this rose labyrinth without anybody ever finding me, I wanted someone to remember that.

As to why things had turned out like this, I’d have to rewind my life a little to explain. I had to mix up the cauldron of time that made the hours pass.

How far back was I supposed to go?

That beautiful golden-haired girl. My favorite. The ghostwriter who had become a mediator for my romance.

Rewinding to the times of Violet Evergarden’s Public Love Letters would be going back too far. It should be a bit later. Perhaps the appropriate would be around the time when I, who was once the third princess of Drossel – that beautiful country where white camellias bloomed in copious amounts –, went away and changed my surname. Yes, right, that was adequate enough.

Fluegel was a neighboring country of prosperous forestry. I was married to the man who had the priority rights to succeeding its throne. Letting go of everything that I had cherished until then, I married off.

I had transformed from a girl into an adult. Although my appearance hadn’t changed much, that was my status.

My husband was Damian Baldur Fluegel. He was the person who possessed the rights of succession as the next monarch at the beginning of our marriage, but a few days ago, he had inherited the throne from his father and become a king both in name and reality. In other words, I had become the queen as well.

Probably the worst queen in history. After all, I had run away.

Let me try to trace the rewound time with exact precision.

Fluegel’s capital was a city of fresh greenery, which had a castle erected in the depths of a forest. Said royal palace couldn’t be considered sturdy or showy, but it was in perfect harmony with the nature, endowed with a calculated beauty. Unlike Drossel, a country that maintained itself through the tourism industry, Fluegel had much of its national interest shouldered by its forestry. Drossel’s national flower was the white camellia, while Fluegel’s was the red rose.

The two countries were separated by a large river, but one would be tempted to wonder how they could be so different.

Differences were by no means a bad thing. After all, Lord Damian and I had met because we had been raised in such different cultures. That was exactly why I became attracted to Lord Damian’s… albeit artless, uninhibited personality, which was so unlike that of the royals from Drossel and other nations...

Yes, “differences” were not bad. But the so-called “differences”... how should I put it? When they weren’t tolerated, instead viewed as an absence of profits and effort, they would turn into a really bad thing.

Most likely, that was what made me the way I was now.

Was this an excuse? It might be. But that was how it was. That was it.

At first, my life in Fluegel didn’t go well.

Becoming used to even small differences in habit was extremely difficult for me, which caused the chamberlain to sigh often. He was someone who deserved respect for having taken care of Lord Damian’s personal matters for quite a long time.

There was no mistaking that I was in a position higher than his, but I soon understood that he looked down on me. One could tell as much by things such as the movements of the other’s eyes and their attitude.

The chamberlain would tell me: “That is not the way we do it in Fluegel”, “This is for your protection. You will be criticized otherwise. Now, fix yourself up”, “I have said this several times, but...”

I didn’t think I was some idiot. I believed myself to be the kind of girl who could do well if I put my mind into it. But I had to admit that I was a very unstable crybaby.

The differences such as the ones that the chamberlain talked about were, for example, the order in which people were seated at meals, how to lift my dress when hopping into a carriage, and other minute details like that. If I were told such things back in Drossel, I was positive that I could internalize it in the first try. After that, I definitely wouldn’t repeat the mistake. But the moment I tried to do it in this foreign country that I wasn’t familiar with, being watched by the monitoring eyes of someone that didn’t have me in his favor, I ended up failing. It was almost as if I were inducing the failure on my own. What was this phenomenon?

The chamberlain most likely knew this as well. He knew it, and even then he would sigh and speak in a detached manner while watching me go pale. There was nothing good in it for either of us, yet we would find ourselves repeating this vicious cycle.

To be honest, we were so incapable of getting along that the desire to jump off from one of the Fluegel castle’s windows as retaliation surged from within me. However, I had no choice but to keep going. Because I was a newcomer and that person was an elder.

If I didn’t get used to this, it would be the end of me.

Right, and there was also the tea party. The flow of the Cauldron of Time had finally returned to the present.

It all had begun… from the chamberlain suggesting that if I, who had become the queen, held a tea party, I would certainly make myself known as someone who shines like the stars in the night sky. He gave a long speech about my authority as a queen being this and that. That detestable chamberlain.

I did like tea parties, but even after being in Fluegel for a year, I wasn’t able to find myself anyone that I could consider close to me, so I frankly didn’t like the idea. I hadn’t gotten myself anyone to be on friendly terms with, so rather than a display of my power, wouldn’t this be deemed as more of a public execution for me?

Ever since I had arrived here, I was in the position of a foreign princess who had a political marriage with Lord Damian, so both the royal family that I had joined and the people who took care of me were somewhat distant… To make things worse, I was the very person who had tainted the traditional event of the Public Love Letters. People were wary of me as an unprecedented princess.

I had seen that Fluegel had a liberal aspect to it and wasn’t too bound by formalities in comparison to Drossel, but when it came to the royal family, that was a different story.

Whenever I passed the corridors of the royal palace, I could hear one name being whispered. Everyone would have faint smiles on their faces. “Baby Princess” was what they called me.

The one who came up with it was Lord Damian’s younger sister or something. Indeed, I had childish facial features and I was the girl who had married for love, so there was no helping that I would be mocked like this.

Receiving a nickname and having it made into a title meant that it was ingrained in people. Once a knight earned himself an alias, others would expect him to have a conduct that was worthy of it. In that same manner, no matter what I, Charlotte Abelfreya Fluegel, might say… I lived in Fluegel as the princess whom everyone would giggle at.

Whenever I made a mistake, “it’s because she’s a child”. If I happened to rush towards Lord Damian, “it’s because she’s a child”. Whenever I said anything, “it’s because she’s a child”.

If there was some magic spell that could turn me into a twenty-year-old right now, I would have taken it. It’d be great if I could instantly grab ahold of my dignity in a way that nobody would complain. But that was something that people had to be awarded to through the years, along with their efforts...

I might have been the Baby Princess today as well – the day of the tea party.

The chamberlain was in awfully high spirits, which one way or another was an omen for misfortune. I was watching from my bedroom as the elderly man briskly instructed the people around him.

From the room where I stayed with Lord Damian, I could see the castle’s garden, the rose maze that started from the garden’s entrance veering to the side, and the castle town. Back when we had just married, we used to often gaze outside the window together, but now we couldn’t even talk for more than five minutes.

Ever since succeeding the throne, Lord Damian was truly busy. He would be working while I waited for him in our room; by the time that I woke up, he would be by my side without me having realized it; as I stretched the creases that formed between his eyebrows while he was dreaming, he would wake up all of a sudden and then head off to the royal office again.

I was depressed since morning, because why did I have to hold a tea party while my husband was working so indiscriminately? But, well, this was also part of my duties. It was important for me to mingle with other women from a social status similar to mine. The trust earned from them would help not just me but also Lord Damian.

Those who controlled factions also had control of politics. Yes, yes, I knew that much. I had to do this exactly because things weren’t going well. In order to level up my speech skills, I had to start from taking up a stance. As my position was becoming worse, if I could get around here well, I would increase my authority in the royal territory without having to recreate myself.

I understood the reasoning behind this. What the chamberlain said was correct. He was implicitly telling me to do right, and I was the one at fault for not managing it...

The tea party was held in the garden outside at the arranged time.

There were people that I hadn’t seen ever since my wedding ceremony, whom I greeted while turning my head around at an incredible speed. Whenever someone sprinkled the subject of political affairs here and there, I’d throw it back at them with a smile, literally tearing apart and flinging away whatever came at me on repeat. Although the scene actually looked like a peaceful conversation, under the surface, I, the queen, was being evaluated, so this was a battle.

I thought I had done a really strenuous effort up until the middle of it. Instilling the impression that “My, so maybe the Baby Princess isn’t a bad person and is surprisingly smart when she talks?” was quite a success. The signs that I could make them deem me as worthy of standing by Lord Damian’s side were becoming visible. However, the very moment that Her Highness, the King’s young her sister, appeared in the tea party, everything I had set up crumbled down at once.

She was pretty late from the scheduled time – rather, she suddenly showed up when it was already ending.

Although she was close to me in age, she had a very adult appearance and was an awfully beautiful person. Renowned as one of Fluegel’s talented women, she was also involved with the National Assembly, and told us that she had rushed over because the meeting had ended just now. I had not yet been allowed to attend the meetings even though I was the queen, so I was terribly jealous... and a little miserable.

Of course, whatever had been discussed there became the topic, which Her Highness told the women present, explaining in a simplified manner. What a wonderful person she was.

Regardless, it felt like this was going to end as Her Highness’s tea party, even though it was mine. Well, that was okay too. Rather, it might be easier if there was someone to take the initiative to talk like this. I had a bug where I couldn’t speak very well to people whom I wasn’t close to, so I decided to leave it to her.

Despite this being a tea party, I hadn’t eaten anything, so I had the feeling that I would get hungry in the evening. I wondered what we would have for dinner.

Just like that, half of my soul disappeared somewhere else, so I didn’t notice that the subject had changed from state affairs to the next successor to the throne.

“Queen, are you listening? If things continue the way they are, there will be no helping it if a concubine is appointed.”

Since I hadn’t noticed it, I couldn’t react right away, even as I took the tremendous brutality of those words to the face. This had happened just a moment ago, so I didn’t remember very well what kind of reaction I’d had. I had the feeling that I had responded with a somewhat sluggish reply such as “aah” or “eeh”... much like the way that living creatures cried for the first time upon being born.

I could immediately tell that Her Highness wasn’t satisfied with my answer.

“It is because you are so laidback like this that the King has to fight the national affairs alone. You still intend to be here as a guest, not doing what you have to do, so everyone has to hold back and nobody can speak up their opinions. Talk more. Be more useful to the country. Most important of all, it has already been a year, yet nothing has been reported to us. Are you seriously discussing the succession with the King? If this goes on, someone will suggest a concubine for him.”

With such words thrown at me in sequence, I—I had... I had a thought. That perhaps she was trying to make me lose heart. Wasn’t I being attacked right now?

I looked around. Nobody attempted to open their mouths in order to defend me. There was no one. I had no one.

All of them were waiting for my reaction.

I knew this situation. I knew it very well. I wasn’t being treated as a person at the moment. My personality was being denied as well. The dignity that should be granted to the human being named Charlotte wasn’t being taken into account.

However, I didn’t break. Why?

Because I was used to being neglected.

“Yes, I am truly doing a poor job. I believe it is as you say.”

I was smiling.

“However, it has not yet been decided what will be my part of the work and what will be the King’s, as we are in the process of deciding on it as a couple.”

I was smiling mockingly.

“Now that I have talked to all of you like this, I have concluded I should propose my thoughts to the parliament slowly, little by little.”

I was... smiling.

“I was the princess of my country. But now, I am the queen of Fluegel. I did not intend to be here in the position of guest, but it is true that I was restraining myself. But is that not the same for all of you? I am aware. Everyone has been... well, surrounding me from a distance and looking after me. I was fretting, as it would have been better for you to tell me more directly if there was anything wrong... By all means, I would like to have a frank exchange of opinions with you in the future... and I hope that we can help each other... as fellow women.”

This was laughable.

Her Highness was appalled. So was everyone else. She must have spoken so conflictingly due to thinking that it was sure to make me start crying.

I wanted her to stop saying such stupid things. I was the former third princess of Drossel. Did she know what kind of country that was? It was a country where it was okay for women to become political tools. We were by no means granted the position to act freely like she did. As the shadows so-called “women”, we had no choice but earnestly do whatever we could.

I was born in a country were women were consumed and worn down. To top it off, I had been raised mostly by courtiers, away from my biological parents. I hadn’t seen my mother in forever.

Exhausted as a result of her marriage of convenience, Mother had Father build her a palace and secluded herself in it all day long every day. She did show up at the wedding ceremony, but she hadn’t even sent me a single letter after I had married off. She had probably already forgotten that she had given birth to me.

But that was the country I had been born in. I had been raised by one of this country’s strong women – a carefully selected, tough woman. This person patiently educated me, even though my aptitude wasn’t good. She explained things to me over and over again. She scolded me a lot. She taught me so that I would be able to marry anyone and live anywhere. She had also predicted that a situation like this might happen. So she told me how to act during a quarrel with other women.

That was why I smiled at times like these.

My looks weren’t bad. I was no idiot. I knew what effects I would bring about if I smiled. There was little that I could do, but I was going to be the one firing the best shot here.

I was a crybaby. I was a weakling. I was lonely.

However, I had been taught well. No matter what, I couldn’t lose in times like these. I knew that much.

I had been protected through the erasure of my personality.

That day’s tea party was over right then, and thanks to the chamberlain saying that it would soon be time to bring it to a close, it ended well.

At a later date, my feud or whatever with Her Highness would become a rumor around the royal palace, but that was a story of the future. In any case, it was over for now. Therefore, I was extremely relieved.

The chamberlain let me return to my room unusually early and consoled me with a “you must be tired”. “You were excellent today,” he told me. Enveloping my shaky palms in his hands, which had wrinkles just like Alberta’s, he warmed them up. “No matter what happens, do not forget that you have one ally,” he said.

From that, I understood a little something. That he, indeed, worried about me in his own way. I wasn’t fond of his way of doing things, but he had struggled as much as he could in order to do something to improve my position.

He had seen what I had gone through today, so he was commending my brave fight. I had been subjected to violence today. I had been told such terrible things. Even though I—I...

I was in love with Lord Damian.

Both Drossel and Fluegel were aware of this. The citizens of both kingdoms knew it. And yet, aah, how embarrassing. But everyone knew.

I was in love with that person. I was in love.

“You have not sired a child after a year, so there might be need for a concubine. Therefore, if such a woman appears, you should accept it,” she said, despite knowing how much it would hurt me.

I was told off. I was told off by the younger sister of the object of my affections. That was what she said to me.

“Thank you, but please, let me be alone.”

I still managed to keep my smile up, but as soon as I drove the chamberlain out of the room, the tears overflowed torrentially and I couldn’t stop them.

There should be things more painful than that out there in the world. I looked like a fool for crying because of something like this. But right now, I was feeling like the most pitiful person in the world. I wanted to return to Drossel. I wanted to go home to Drossel.

No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it. No, that wasn’t it.

I wanted to go back to the person who would always allowed me to cry, no matter how much I did so. The person who would stay by my side.

“Alberta...”

I wanted to go back to Alberta.

I knew it was stupid of me. But when I thought that a day might come when Lord Damian, my husband – the object of my affections –, would take another woman aside from me, it was so painful. My chest hurt – it hurt so much that it was hard to breathe. So I couldn’t contain my cries.

I wondered what had gone wrong.

Was it because I had started clamming up, since the chamberlain would always hammer me down by saying, “That kind of unheard-of behavior is not allowed here”, so I couldn’t speak the way I wanted to? Or was it because I was late to find out that not assertively addressing the royal family was bad manners, since I was in a position where I had to wait for people to talk to me first back in Drossel?

Perhaps it was everything.

Apparently, Fluegel hadn’t taken in a princess from abroad in the last sixty years, so maybe it was already difficult for them to accept a foreign object like me in the first place. Things would probably have been different if I were a great woman – yes, a woman like Her Highness –, yet I had nothing but tears. Still, was I such a horrible person that I had to be told such things?

Aah, nothing – just nothing. Nothing was working out. It might be that nothing would go well from now on too.

This thought swiftly made its way into my heart.

All of a sudden, I was able to clearly hear the sounds around me. The noises of someone walking, the whistling of the wind outside, my own breathing. The way that the tears fell down as they dripped from my eyelashes, the way that I was suddenly looking at myself in a holistic manner.

Yes, perhaps things would never work out from now onward. If so, then...

Then, shouldn’t I run away?

Several questions – such as to where, with whom and to do what – came to me, but I ignored them. I had probably broken down at that point.

I dropped my own heart, which I had been cherishing as much as possible in order for it not to break, onto my feet. I had the feeling that I heard a clank when doing so.