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xxacademy · 7 days

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Throne of His Own

This fic is inspired & adapted from chapter 42 of A Court Of Mist And Fury, by Sarah J. Maas. Plot is original, but I took heavy influence from the events of that scene. <3

Leon Kennedy x Agent!Reader (she/her)

18+ MDNI !!

Summary: Being sent to a rural French village to go undercover with a band of vampires was strangely typical for your line of work— But, pretending to be lovers with another agent was anything but typical. Adapting yourself from a trained agent to a submissive lover unfolds in an unexpected series of events.

Word count: 10.2k

Content warnings: smut, AFAB anatomy, exhibitionism, penetrative sex, pet names, slightly mean possessive Leon (only when he has to be), alcohol consumption, typical violence and themes associated with resident evil (like mentions/ use of weapons).

a/n: somewhere, deep in the void, this was intended to be about 2k words, just a little one shot... but now here we are, lol. anyways thank you guys for being so patient, and thank u to my besties on here for being so kind and understanding. life is crazy, and truly i cannot keep up as consistently as i’d like to. i will always be here, even if i take some long breaks here & there. i love all u resident evil obsessed freaks, my life wouldn’t be the same without u xx also i finally decided to not be lazy & do the cute colored letters i hope u enjoy hehe

— PART I —

You peered out the window as you were driven through the endless sprawl of the snow-covered French countryside. A blur of powdery white pines occasionally broken up by small villages nestled into the hills.

Behind all those tall trees were the ragged peaks of the hulking French Alps, so expansive they nearly cut the sky in half. The beauty and stillness of winter was in full effect. Every little village had plumes of warming smoke gathering above the chimneys.

The agent driving the car interrupted your silent musing over the scenery. "You'll have to hike in. It's about 5 miles to the village, but we can't risk getting too close."

With one hand still on the wheel, he reached for the center console, pulled out a large envelope, and tossed it in your lap.

"There you'll find the information you need. Your partner, Leon Kennedy, has been undercover, posing as one of them."

Your voice is monotone, almost disinterested. "And who's them?"

"Some parasite-infected blood suckers. Leon has described them as a vampiric blood cult or something."

"And I'm just expected to waltz into all this? A blood cult? Really?"

"He talked about having a lover, a woman he returned home to, and at the time, it was just banter to fit in with them. But the cultists want to meet her. Either they're getting suspicious, or they want to play ball. Regardless, this served as a rather interesting opportunity to give Leon backup. So here you are."

Your knuckle rests below your bottom lip; you watch as the sun begins its descent below the icy mountain peaks.

So here I am.

You and one of the few other survivors of Raccoon City. You've met him, sure, but you have yet to work alongside him. But, you'd always known the day would come.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You were driven as far as the meandering forest service road would allow. Ahead of you, where the road was no more, towering evergreens had taken over. Their limbs were heavy with packed snow, creating a dense cover over the forest. Only a sliver of the remaining purple-tinted dusk made it through the trees.

"This is where you're on your own. Here are the coordinates for where you'll meet up. Just stay north until you find an abandoned barn. That's where he'll be."

You nod in understanding, equipping your array of weapons—a rifle on your back, a pistol on your hip, and a machete on the other.

"We'll have you out before the end of the week," the agent said, helping you put your pack on.

"I'll count my blessings," your face was solemn as you faced the trees, attempting to size up what lay ahead.

"Well then, you're set. The best of luck to you." a sympathetic smile formed on the agent's lips as he stepped back into the car.

Without hesitation, you departed into the cold, dark wilderness.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Seven miles may not have been a lot for you, but Seven miles of trekking through uncharted backcountry in the dark of winter was. You were chilled to the bone, and the numbness of your limbs limited your mobility ten-fold.

The thick undergrowth of the forest only got denser as you progressed, and your machete-wielding arm throbbed with every strike.

You stumbled up an embankment. With every step, loose, powdery snow slipped underneath your winter boots. Each sharp breath you took appeared as mist, illuminated by your headlamp.

As you finally reached the crest of the hill, you spotted a dilapidated barn at the base. It was nestled underneath a skeletal weeping willow tree. As you moved closer, you noticed half of its roof had caved in. Just one billow of wind could send the thing toppling.

You made your way down the slope, encroaching on the barn. You pulled out your pistol and dimmed your headlamp just to be safe.

Focusing on sound, you surveyed the area for footsteps, rustling, or speaking.

There was not a peep to be heard. Aside from the occasional whisper of wind, the surrounding forest was eerily quiet.

The crunch of the snow under your boots was frustratingly loud as you circled the barn's perimeter, searching for traps.

To your surprise, you peeked through a frosty window and saw the dull glow of a lantern, and a man sat beside it.

He was bundled head to toe in fur-lined clothing similar to your own. His eyes flicked up, and they met with yours. Without speaking, he signaled you in.

You couldn't recall what he looked like, but you remember a distinctly boyish look despite him being around your age when the incident happened. But the person who stood before you was a lot different.

This man is rugged and muscular. His cheekbones are much more pronounced, and his pale blue eyes are set deep in their sockets. Gentle yet battle-hardened. All that boyishness has dissipated.

"Leon," he said, stretching a gloved hand toward yours.

You stuttered your name through shivering lips, your hand meeting Leon's in a firm shake.

His tactful eyes scanned you, assumedly noting how cold you were.

"We really should get going. I've been holed up in a cabin only a few miles from here."

"Gladly, I'm freezing my ass off."

Without any further small talk, Leon leads the way, setting out once again for the dark, unforgiving woods.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Make yourself comfortable; I'll get a fire going," Leon said, opening the door for you before heading back outside for firewood.

You threw your pack onto the ground beside the fireplace. The room was completely dark, except for the small path illuminated by your headlamp.

You fumbled a matchbook out of your pocket and started to light the myriad of taper candles around the cabin.

Warm candlelight flooded the room, illuminating the interior of the gothic-style cabin. It was constructed of dark, ashy wood—the walls, the floor, the ceiling, and everything else.

Eclectic, mismatched carpets overlapped each other. And dark red curtains pooled along the ornate windows.

He called it a cabin, but the interior was rather grand.

Your heavy .22 caliber rifle had been digging into your back for hours, so you peeled it off with a relieving sigh. As you set it down on the wooden dining table, it made a hollow metallic clunk. You stripped off your other heavy layers onto the table, like your machete and belt, but kept on your fur-lined outerwear. Inside wasn't that much warmer.

With a heavy boot, Leon kicked open the front door, cradling wood in his forearms. With him, a gust of snow flurries blew into the cabin. He again kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the wood beside the fireplace.

"The snow is picking up again. You got here at the right time," Leon said, striking a match and tossing it into a pile of kindling inside the stone hearth.

You sit on a deep red Victorian-style couch in front of the fireplace. You sighed and kicked your boots up onto the coffee table.

"You call this place a cabin?" You say as your hand brushes the fine velvet upholstery of the couch.

"Well, when you see the rest of this village, you'll see why this place is considered just a cabin."

"These cultists must be the extravagant type then, huh?"

Leon piled wood onto the roaring fire, the crackling glow illumining his features. He stepped back from the heat and faced you, pulling off his heavy jacket. "Yeah, to say the least. They're greedy fuckers with bloodlines full of wealth. These gaudy homes just scratch the surface."

"So, now my real question is—how did you weasel your way in? How are you seriously posing as a cult member?" You stretched your shaky hands towards the fire, desperate for warmth. "You can't be serious that you, an American, just waltzed into a French village and are pretending to play cultist," you said with heavy speculation, your stern eyes meeting his.

Leon's lip ticked, calm eyes unbreaking from yours.

"They have plenty of outlets funneling within the United States, which gave us the perfect opening. We intercepted communications from a faction of theirs based in the States and used them as a bleed for information. Eventually, it was requested that they, we, send over a high-ranking nobility to come to France to one, act as a messenger, and two, be part of their transformation ritual."

"And that's where you came in?"

Leon's face went grave.

"Yeah, I trained to be and act like one of them. I learned every piece of information we know about this narcissistic vampire cult and its deviant religion. I've had to change everything about my life and thinking to be here. It's been months kissing ass in the hope of more information."

The room was becoming increasingly warm, and you started to feel claustrophobic in your winter clothing. You began to shed your layers of outerwear.

"That sounds awful. I can't believe you've made it out here, alone, for so long..." you paused for a moment but resumed, "but please, tell me that it has been worth it."

The question loomed thick in the air as you struggled with your boots, eventually kicking them off and walking to the fire to warm your cold, damp feet.

You could really get a good look at Leon here. He wore a tight black shirt that emphasized his muscular build and black cargo pants. His complexation looked soft against the warm firelight, juxtaposing the intensity of his prominent features.

He, too, seemed to be taking in your appearance as you sauntered toward the light. What he was thinking about was absolutely unknown, as he remained stone-faced.

"It has," he said, breaking the silence. "It has been worth it."

Leon's eyes drifted to his hands as if in a trance.

"What we now know about the cultists can completely change the course of this fight. But as I push forward, it's not going to be easy. I don't think this is going to end smoothly. That's why I needed backup." Leon cleared his throat. But there is a catch, too."

His eyes darted up to meet yours. You tensed, straightening your back, an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

"The king, that fucking king, wants me to bring my lover."

Although you were briefed on this situation prior, nothing could have prepared you for hearing it from him directly.

You laughed-- partly to ease the tension, but mainly because the mission-altering crux for the honored agent is his girlfriend.

"It's crazy, I know, but it couldn't be a more perfect invitation to bring another agent in." His cheeks flushed with the slightest hue of red.

"Please, tell me how you got into this situation in the first place". You tried to contain your laughter but failed.

Leon breathed an exasperated sigh.

"Well, the Lords, false prophets more like, banter about their romantic conquests. And well, after they all had drowned on about all the unsavory details, they looked at me, awaiting what story I had to tell."

"And what did you tell 'em?"

"I did what I had to do. I made up stories about having a girlfriend at home... And whatever else would keep them from asking too many questions."

You nodded.

"They also bring their women to the castle and flaunt them like furs. Sometimes, it's literally for their blood. Most of the time, it's just to stroke their own ego by having pretty women hanging off them." Leon added.

Of course, the power-hungry vampire kings saw women as conquests. Ultimately, it shouldn't surprising that it would come to this.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

It's been a long, long day.

You have all the information you need at this point, and the exhaustion is quickly overtaking you.

You yawn with outstretched arms, relaxing them to rub your heavy eyelids. Your body is finally warm, and you realize how well the bone-chilling cold kept you awake.

"I'll show you to your room," Leon said, helping you collect the things you dumped around the room. He led you down a darkened hallway to your bedroom.

"There are some clothes and a few other things you may need. If you need anything else, my room is just across the hall," he stated, setting your things down.

"Is there anything I need to know about tomorrow?" You added before Leon could step out of the room.

"You'll have the day to adjust. We'll go over the mission then. Just focus on resting up for now."

His lips came to a subtle smile, "Goodnight."

You smiled back, "Goodnight to you too."

You surveyed the room, starting with the armoire. It was full of clothes that looked like they were from another time: grand dresses with sheer, lacy fabrics of black and red with low sweeping necklines. There was also a long black hooded cape, corsets, and tall-heeled boots. The drawers below housed underwear and pajamas.

You slipped off your dingy clothes for a long black strappy nightgown from the armoire.

You hid your weapons around the room, your rifle, machete, and extra ammo in the closet, your knives in the vanity, and your pistol tucked under the mattress.

Like the rest of the decor, the bed was ornate. It was intricately carved out of the same ashwood as the cabin. The white sheets were plush and soft to the touch.

After securing your room, you crawled into bed. Falling almost immediately into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Blinding white winter's light singed your vision as you woke up in a panic, a persistent cracking noise echoed from outside. It was a splintering sound as if someone was trying to get in.

You stealthily crawled out of bed and cracked open the bedroom curtain to peer outside. Nothing of interest could be seen, only the quiet woods blanketed by fresh snow.

The woods were now illuminated by sunshine, making them appear significantly less intimidating than last night. That didn't make them any less haunting, though.

Pistol in hand, You tiptoed through the house in search of Leon. First, you knocked on his bedroom door, and when he didn't answer, you investigated the rest of the house.

There were no signs of Leon, only the smell of something cooking and the sound of that grating thudding noise echoing through the house.

You silently opened the front door and exited barefoot, the coldness of the snow against your skin sending shivers up your spine. The satin fabric of your nightgown offered no protection from the elements.

One step at a time, you sneaked around the side of the house. The thudding got louder with each pace, and your heartbeat raced with adrenaline.

Carefully, You rounded the corner to the source of the noise. Arms straight, gun drawn.

Leon's eyes, bewildered, raked your figure, and he huffed a laugh, "Good morning, super cop. You must be freezing."

He looked down the barrel of the gun before you put it down.

He was just chopping wood.

Clearly, your senses were on high alert. You felt embarrassed that something so trivial and ordinary ticked those mental alarms.

Defensively, you retorted, "Well, I'm not the one chopping wood in a creepy vampire town first thing in the morning! For God's sake, I thought someone was breaking in or attacking!" You huffed, crossing your arms, a once panicked stare turning to one of annoyance.

Leon dropped the axe in the snow, reaching for a large piece of wood.

"And coming outside, in the dead of winter, wearing only a nightgown would have made a difference?" Leon said with a smirk, but it dropped quickly as he again reached for the axe to chop another piece of wood.

"And a gun! You seemed to have missed that part, and what else was I supposed to do? Spend 10 minutes putting my gear on?" You argued with a pout. Muscles tensed as adrenaline melted away.

You were still waking up and not in the mood to argue. But yes, you definitely could have kicked ass in your pajamas.

"Okay, okay, I promise I'm done pestering you. Breakfast is on the stove. You should go eat."

Begrudgingly, you walked back inside, mumbling your frustrations to yourself. It's safe to say you're not a fan of rude awakenings.

While lounging on the couch, you ate the breakfast of eggs and bacon Leon had prepared. You flipped through your logbook, filling in everything that happened in the last 24 hours.

Leon opened the front door, shaking off his snow-covered clothing before entering. He'd been out there for hours, and it was evident in the sweat that lingered down the side of his forehead.

Standing in the foyer, Leon peeled off his brown fur-lined bomber jacket and casually pulled the sweat-drenched black t-shirt over his head.

You watched him from where you sat on the couch, a bit confused as he acted as if no one was around.

You got a glimpse of the toned plane that was his back. He stretched his arms out, unintentionally giving you a better view. He rolled out his sore shoulder blades for a moment, and you discreetly watched from the corner of your eye.

You stifled whatever the fuck that feeling was and resumed your logbook.

In an attempt to find some grievance, you cleared your throat. It was subtle enough not to seem suspicious but clear enough that Leon definitely heard you.

But you're sure he was aware of you the entire time.

Leon walked toward the hallway and said, "I have a business to take care of at the castle; when I get back, we'll go over what's expected for the mission tomorrow. You'll find the notebook I've kept about these people on the bookshelf. You should skim it to familiarize yourself."

He walked into the bathroom without waiting for your reply. The only sound was the door shutting behind him.

Leon had left to take care of his end of the mission, and you remained alone in the cabin for the rest of the day.

You bathed and changed into real clothes, skipping over the elaborate dresses in favor of the spare black jeans and long-sleeve t-shirt you packed.

You left your bedroom to head to the living room but stopped at Leon's door adjacent to yours.

You were curious about what his room looked like, and rightfully so. He was rather serious, not letting off much about his personal side. Even while working, other agents, like Jill Valentine, had more outward displays of self-identity.

You wondered what the man behind the agent's identity was like, But you respectfully kept walking.

Typically, you're not overly curious about your cohorts, But people like Leon and Jill lived through the same tragedy you did. You often felt alone in your pain, But you found a sliver of comfort in knowing that you, in fact, were not.

You flipped through the very detailed notes Leon had taken. He explained the parasite they intended to use for "world domination," the pecking order amongst the rulers, detailed maps of the castle, and whatever else he found out.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

"Hey, wake up," Leon said gently, nudging your shoulder.

You woke up sitting on the floor, arms crossed and body hunched over the coffee table.

Through blurry vision, you saw Leon beside you, wearing a fancy white dress shirt and a tie loose around his neck.

"What time is it?" You mumbled, sitting up to stretch out your very numb legs.

"Late—I got back about an hour ago, I made dinner if you're hungry."

Leon reached out a hand, and you took it. Grunting as he helped you up.

"Yeah, I am," You replied, your stomach grumbling.

You sat at the dining table with Leon. He prepared grilled veggies and chicken for dinner, which was surprisingly good.

"How'd it go," you asked between bites.

"Fine, everything is going according to plan. We're all set for tomorrow," Leon replied,

"What exactly are we doing tomorrow?" you raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you saw those dresses in your room. You'll have to wear one, but it's easy from there. You'll stay quiet and follow my lead. You'll have to act like my girlfriend. But it will also be a good time to familiarize yourself with the castle and, you know, memorize the layout."

Leon took a sip of wine and offered you a gentle look, "Are you okay with that?"

You replied, "Of course I am. It's a pretty small price to pay to take these fuckers down." You flashed a cheeky grin before taking a sip of your wine. "We got this."

You continued to talk over dinner, going back and forth and sharing each other's backgrounds. You told Leon about your experience in Raccoon City— what had happened and how you'd escaped it.

But for you, It was surreal hearing about Leon's involvement in the incident. Hearing about the people he saved, the enemies he took down, and the sacrifices he made were… Comforting.

Comforting to know someone else could actually relate to you.

Comforting to know there is hope.

You know there are scars deep below the surface—you know that from experience. But meeting someone who still cares so much about helping others proves that those wounds do, in fact, heal.

You and Leon cleaned up the kitchen before saying goodnight and heading to your rooms for the night.

You lay in your plush bed, unable to sleep. Your mind is whirring with a frenzy of emotions. Your conversation with Leon is still sinking in. The nerves concerning tomorrow's mission stake their claim.

It's okay. It's okay.

You try to soothe yourself. Suppress whatever unreconciled emotions were brought up.

Just finish the mission.

— PART II —

A beautifully lavish Victorian-style ball gown adorned your body. It has a flowing tiered skirt constructed from deep, blood-red satin. The bodice was corseted tightly to your abdomen, pushing your breasts up so that they are nearly spilling out of the gown's low square neckline. The quarter sleeves fit tightly but poof out at your elbows with frilly lace. The whole ensemble is accented with black bows and delicate lacework.

You watched yourself in the vanity mirror as you carefully pinned your hair up. Enchanted by the unfamiliar person the mirror reflected back.

This wasn't you. But a princess.

A princess who has never killed or witnessed the mass extinction of innocent people. A princess who didn't have to give up her normal life against her will.

Although seeing yourself dressed up like the beautiful person you'll never be was strange. But maybe, battle-scarred government agents could wear pretty dresses, sometimes.

With your hair set in place, you head to the living room, where you are met by Leon in an equally uncharacteristic outfit.

He took in your appearance, a smile decorating his face. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out.

You filled the silence instead. "You look nice." You spoke softly.

He did look nice.

Leon wore a billowy white shirt with ruffles along the neckline. The plunging neckline had a small corset-style detail, and it was tucked into a pair of perfectly fitted black trousers.

Simple, but effectively good-looking. The fit of his clothes came off as rich and a little romantic. Well suited for a band of vampires.

"As do you," Leon said, voice deep and restricted.

You hid your face by looking down at your shoes, concealing the growing flush along your cheeks. "Thank you." You said in almost a whisper.

"Are you ready?" he asked, offering his arm to you.

You nod in affirmation and thread your arm through his.

Leon led you through a little stone path through the woods. At this time, it was only about an hour before dusk.

The combination of winter woods and the near-setting sun created an image of beautiful calm. If you were to let your mind wander, It would feel like you were on a date, taking a stroll through the forest.

"I told you these cultists were sick bastards, right?" Leon said too casually.

You nod, "Yes, you definitely mentioned that."

The dense woods begin to clear, and the path leads to a small village. At the horizon, the pointed spikes of a grand castle make a lethal appearance. You take it all in, honing yourself into a covert weapon. Descending into this "character" of unexpected harm.

"And you understand that how I'll behave tonight is all a part of the act?" Leon asks for your assurance one last time before entering the village.

Your heels land on the cobblestone that had been cleared of snow. The warm glow of the town's candlelight radiates as the sun begins to set.

Making brief eye contact with a villager, you squeeze Leon's arm a little tighter and murmur, "I could say the same to you, my lord." A wicked smile now painted your face.

Leon whispered lowly, "Glad to see you're committed to the bit."

As a pair, you two walked through the town's main pathway, a straight shot to the looming castle ahead. You noted that the townspeople were off.

Very, very off.

They behaved more like mindless zombies than people; their eyes glowed crimson red. Most of them just walked by idly, with no sense of purpose. Others stood hauntingly still, staring at you so intensely you felt it in your soul.

Even the farm animals that lingered on the streets were off. They walked erratically, and their eyes glowed, too.

This place gave you the creeps. Typical Umbrella.

Reaching the castle at last— It demanded your attention with its many oversized spires and massive arched windows. Light flowed red through the stained glass, adding to its intensity.

The snow-covered graveyard and cross-tipped spires informed you this wasn't just a castle but an unholy cathedral.

You had to walk through the graveyard to reach the entrance. You noted the tombstones engraved with outdated French names and dates as far back as the 1800s. It all added to the ancient terror surrounding the looming cathedral.

Upon arriving, the massive arched door began to creak open, and a man clad in a dark red suit greeted the two of you with a thick French accent. "Good evening, Sir Kennedy. We are so very pleased that you and your-" he paused, a sly smile forming, "madame, could make it."

Leon did not reply to the doorman.

He walked past with his head held high and eyes peering downwards. His look emanated superiority as if he had no interest in conversation with a man so far below him.

Leon grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, guiding you up the curved stairs that dominated the foyer.

You passed servants who wore simple, white, floor-length dresses with aprons and bonnets. Each servant stopped in their tracks to bow their head as you, he, walked past.

The action sent chills down your spine.

What was the true extent of power he reached in this so-called monarchy?

You arrived at a grand arched doorway swirled with ornamental gold detailing. Two men opened the doors in unison, letting you through.

Elegant music flooded the huge open ballroom. Orchestral pianos and violins serenaded your ears.

People waltzed, people drank wine, people talked, and the vampires watched.

On the dais, the looming darkness of men sitting on ornate thrones watched the every move of the people below.

Every seat was occupied except for one.

Everything suddenly stopped. The music went silent, and the people parted, bowing their heads down.

Slowly, you two approached the dais, Standing hand in hand at the steps. The man who sat in the centermost seat smiled devilishly. "Glad you could make it, Lord Kennedy." His French accent was thick.

Leon bowed his head. "Of course, your majesty."

"Why would you want to miss a ball as extravagant, as special, as this one, anyways? Lord Kennedy, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guest, wouldn't we?"

The Lord ticked an eyebrow, reaching a pale, lanky hand to you.

Leon's breath seized but quickly relaxed as he let go of your hand, hinting for you to accept.

You gracefully walked the steps, rhythmically breathing in and out to offset the heavy heartbeat that accompanied each step. The air loomed cold and silent as the echoes of your footsteps filled the hall.

The King was pale as fresh snow, with icy blue veins protruding from his skin. His eyes were glowing red, and long black hair cascaded down his shoulders to his chest. He wore an ornate gold, black, and red suit and a crown topped his head. He looked as if he was once very handsome, but now, he is not so good-looking.

You rested your hand on him, avoiding eye contact. His freezing touch sent a shiver through you.

The King lowered his head and placed a prolonged kiss on the back of your hand. His left hand grabbed your upper arm, turning it so your wrist faced upward. He ran his fingers down your arm, resting on your wrist. A devilish grin formed on his thin lips, presumably from the pleasure in whatever he found in you.

His head raised, but his hand remained fixed on your wrist. You made eye contact this time. His gleaming eyes burrowing into yours.

You could feel your hot blood running against his cold touch. Your pulse filled the silence of the too-quiet ballroom. You wanted to run, but not without a fight, and get out of this Umbrella Corporation daymare.

"Ma chérie," he whispered into your skin.

There is no running. No fighting. Today, you must pretend.

Leon stood beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, his eyes dark, looking down at the still-seated King.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Leon asked rhetorically, a bite in his tone.

The Lord laughed, releasing your hand.

"No need to be so overbearing, Leon. N'aie pas peur. Please sit and join your fellow nobility."

The last empty chair was his. You scanned the other taken thrones. Some of the men were already turned, marked distinctively by glowing, crimson eyes and a lifeless complexion.

Although some, like Leon, had not yet been turned.

From your reading the previous day, you learned that in the eyes of the cult immortality was a privilege, not a right. They believed one must earn that privilege by dedicated service to the organization before even being considered.

Leon took a seat, relaxing on his throne. You stood beside him awkwardly, not entirely knowing what to do. But, with a tap at your side, you figured it out.

You perched on Leon's lap, your billowy dress flowing over his legs and spilling like blood onto the marble floor. He wrapped a hand around your corseted abdomen, and the other rested in your lap.

Your heart raced a little harder.

"You must be in need of a drink." The King asked.

"Some music would be nice, too," Leon said with a scoff loud enough for musicians on the floor to hear.

The music resumed, and again, the bowing people began dancing. Still, it was finally replaced by the movement and energy of song and dance.

One of the white dress servants arrived with two glasses full of red wine upon a silver platter. Leon made no effort to grab them, so you took them both, passing one off to him.

Leon pressed his lips��up to your ear, "drink up, baby," he whispered.

You almost forgot— even your whispers could be herd by the immortal's keen hearing. Every thing that was said, even in a murmur, had to be in line.

It was strange to hear him talk like that, but admittedly you weren't bothered. Although the closeness was unexpected, It's been a long time since you were this close to someone. It had been a year? Maybe two? Since you were at all intimate with another person.

It felt good. He radiated warmth, his touch was gentle, and his handsomeness unmatched.

You downed your glass while Leon sipped on his. His scanning eyes watched the crowd, occasionally flickering back to the King but always ending on you.

He admired as your painted lips caressed the edge of the fine crystal wine glass and how your throat bobbed with each drink.

He called for a refill and demanded more, which the servants promptly fulfilled, And they kept it coming. After every glass you two emptied, they refilled.

Amongst themselves, Leon and the vampire Lords talked about courtly business. and as they talked, Leon's large hands ran down your leg, pulling up your skirt, and exposing up to your knee.

They were talking about war, and all rather intense subject matters. But Leon's hand kept working higher up your legs. Petting and caressing every bit of exposed skin. The King couldn't look away, neither could the other lords, or even the people below.

He used you as a spectacle, to assert his dominance, and power over the rest of the court, and it worked. The commoners were afraid of him, and the lords respected him. He mastered the facade of villainous superiority that belittled all in its path. One that possessed his lover entirely and wanted the world to know it.

His lavish touch across your legs, mixed with the headiness of the wine, brought you to a euphoric state. Coaxed by his affection, you can't help but submit.

Your back arched into his abdomen, yearning for more touch. You could not recall any of the words spoken around you, only the ecstasy of his lips meeting your neck. A soft whisper of a kiss was all he gave you, but your breathing hitched, and your body heated.

You were damned. Damned for liking it as much as you did.

He paused for a moment. Only a minute's break in time, and he still left you internally begging like a dog.

"My, my, what a statement you're making, Lord Kennedy. You plan on sharing?" The King taunted, practically drooling at your bare, pawing legs.

You spoke for the first time the entire night, causing every member of the court's head (that wasn't already) to turn.

"No."

You shot an arrow through the King's fragile pride.

The King's lip twitched. "What a defiant whore you managed to fish up."

Leon laughed, grinning wildly, "Oh, well, you should see how well she obeys me." He patted your thigh in approval, placing an absolutely panty-drenching kiss along your neck.

The King rolled his eyes, but lords couldn't hide their amusement as they stifled back laughter.

Leon rested his knuckle under your chin, "Go on, my love, apologize."

The King retorted snappily, "There's no need for that."

Thank God.

You took an extra large drink of wine to ease the tension, falling back into Leon's warm chest.

They continued on as if nothing ever happened, talking about things you knew nothing about.

Leon listened, cool and aloof, but his hands satiated your need. He resumed the game of inching higher up your leg. His warm fingers trace dizzying circles along your inner thigh.

His calloused fingers felt rough and masculine against your velvet soft skin. He squeezed your thigh, accidentally eliciting a lusty whimper from you.

"You like that, don't you, pretty girl?" Leon's breath grazed along your neck, his lips taunting you mere centimeters away from your bare skin.

You pressed your back into the hardness of his body, a needy and desperate attempt for more—more of his lavish touch. You didn't even care who saw.

You turned a cheek, sharing Leon's darkened, sultry gaze. The usual warmth in his pale blue eyes was totally vacant. He observed you like prey, nothing more than a deer in the crosshairs.

The hand that rested on your waist dragged up to your face and cupped your jaw, his thumb petting your lip, transferring your red lipstick to his skin.

His grip on your thigh intensified, digging hard into your skin. Your lips parted with a soft gasp, and your legs opened wider in response to his touch.

Hunter and hunted.

Leon bit his lip as he slid his finger into your mouth. Your lips puckered pretty around his finger, and Leon watched in feral attraction as you teased him with the tip of your tongue. You oozed confidence and sultry submission, letting your doe eyes do the talking.

The lines between the act and reality truly blurred.

The way he touched you felt too real, too right. You craved more than just the teasing.

As if in an answer, Leon's hands migrated lower and lower down your abdomen. Finally, working to where you craved most. But, he couldn't find the proof of how good he made you feel. Your soaking wet underwear would be damning to your case.

In a desperate attempt, you arched your back, attempting to pull yourself away from his wandering touch. In turn, you could feel the unmistakable hardness in his pants pressing against your back.

Oh, he wanted you too. At this stage, you both should just be condemned.

The on-lookers watched from below as you pressed into Leon's length. You ground yourself against him. Your skin glowed with sweat, and strands of hair were falling from your updo and swept around your face.

There were no secrets in the way you felt; you practically radiated sex, intimacy, and everything in between.

One of Leon's hands dragged up your body and grasped your ribcage directly under your breast. The other rested on your collarbones. He pulled your ear to his lips and whispered, "Don't let it go to your head."

You swallowed, heart racing. "What?"

Leon's arrogant grin now pressed against your ear. "That every man in this room is imagining themselves in my place. Don't forget that you belong to me, darling."

"I would never-" You were cut short by Leon's grip tightening around your abdomen.

"Don't patronize me," he demanded, but his white-knuckle grip loosened and transformed into apologetic strokes down your side.

"Yes, my lord." Sweet and submissive.

The King seemed to approve, as marked by an appraising nod he shared with Leon.

A servant walked by, head hung low, and Leon's voice cracked like thunder. "Wine, now." Pure demand in his voice.

You drank the seemingly bottomless glasses of wine Leon ordered. You should have stopped, but you drank on to avoid any unfavorable conversations.

Tonight, you learned that French vampires love to drink.

The night grew late-- You, Leon, and the other Lords were drunker than sailors. Conversations of importance were divulged into off-topic chit-chat and banter. The people below slow-danced to the soft ballads that hummed through the castle.

It was a struggle to stay awake. All the wine, the music, the expectations, the teasing. It tired you out. Your head lay in Leon's chest, soaking up his sent-- Open sky and rugged woods. Your dainty hands gracefully stroked his exposed chest, painting little circles, occasionally your hands reached up to play with his pretty blonde hair. Leon languidly stroked your arm, head resting lazily to the side.

Leon sat up, shifting you with him, and cleared his throat, "My king, It's been a pleasure, but we should head back now."

"Why don't you just say the night? I would hate to see your poor madame walk all the way back to your... Maison, this late."

You and Leon exchanged a look; you weren't exactly sure if he had accounted for this in his plan. Your eyebrows threaded together, a look of annoyance and confusion, but Leon quickly turned away.

"What a hospitable offer, your highness." He responded eloquently. He knew that someone who was actually in his place would never reject an offer like that.

"It's the least I can do for you, Lord Kennedy; after all, you've been so dedicated to our cause." A sly villain-like smirk formed on the King's lips.

Leon politely bowed his head in acknowledgment.

The King snapped his fingers, and without an exchange of words, a servant was at the throne you and Leon shared.

You both stood up and followed her, hand in hand.

You passed by the other Lords still seated along the dais. Their prowling eyes raked your body as you walked by. Leon was right; you were in everyone's minds. Stripped bare and doing unspeakable things to them.

It repulsed you to be thirsted over by depraved vampire lords, but in some sacrilegious facet of your mind, you were flattered by it. You even walked in a way that accentuated your hips, teasing them just a little more.

You were just passing the King's throne when suddenly someone grabbed your arm. It was the King who had implored his icy hand around your arm, pulling you into him. You gasped as he bent you over the armrest of his throne and placed a kiss on your cheek. "Bonne nuit, ma chérie" He whispered in your ear.

He activated your desire to fight back; you wanted to place your hands around the scrawny King's neck and kill him right there. You could without any resistance, too.

But, you suppressed your urge. Sweet and submissive, you told yourself. You already got yourself in enough trouble with your previous stunt, best not to ruin it now.

"Goodnight, your Highness," you muttered back as dainty and feminine as you could manage.

The King released you, and as you took a step back, you were in Leon's chest; his arms were quick to wrap around you, like a knight in shining armor waiting for his princess.

As you left the dais, the people of the ballroom once again stopped dancing, and bowed as you and Leon walked through, escorted by the servant.

She showed you to your room, opened the door, bowed, and left promptly.

The room was entirely white and gold, similar in design to the rest of the castle, but featuring a giant bed in the middle of the room with a canopy of pooling gauzy fabric.

"What are we supposed to do now?" you whispered once the door was closed behind you.

Leon rubbed the temples of his forehead as if he had a headache, "I'm not sure. I didn't expect him to want us to stay the night."

You looked around the room, unsure of what to do now. "Should we escape?"

Leon peaked his head out the window, surveying the area, "That's an option, but risky," he muttered. "It would blow our cover when they inevitably found us gone. The plan was to kill the nobility a few days from now, on the full moon. That's when they're planning on turning one of the human lords immortal."

"Why does it have to be then? Can't it just be now? They're all drunk and lounging around, for God's sake!" You accidentally raised your voice, and Leon shushed you by pressing his finger to your lips.

"When they turn someone immortal, they have to use the parasite... The plan is to steal the parasite during the ceremony and then kill them. We need to bring it back to America so it can be studied.

But, I haven't been able to find where they store them; as far as I'm aware, only the King knows. That's why I've been waiting for the ceremony."

"So... We stay?" you said defeatedly.

"Unfortunately."

You looked around the room, rummaging through the wardrobe and the various drawers throughout. Everything was empty except for the Holy Bible in a desk drawer.

"You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." Leon offered kicking off his boots before sitting on the small white and gold couch.

"That couch is so small, you can have the bed." You tried to negotiate.

"No, no, it's all yours. I've slept on much worse than this." He said, stretching his legs out along the couch. It was too short for him, so his feet dangled off the armrest.

You sighed; there's no point in arguing.

"Well, I can't sleep in this dress. It weighs about 20lbs, and it's too damn hot."

"There was no spare clothes?" Leon asked.

"Nope."

Leon looked around the room, eyebrows stitched together in thought, before he resolved, "You can have my shirt."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, It's no trouble at all, really."

Leon remained where he was on the couch, eyes closed.

You stood on the other side of the room, fumbling with the corseting on your dress, unable to unlace it. "How the hell did I even get this on earlier?" you mumbled to yourself.

Leon's eyes perked open, watching you struggle. He cleared his throat, "Do you need help with that?"

You didn't answer but still struggled.

Leon took it upon himself to help you. He walked over and began unlacing the many rows of tight lacing along the back of your dress.

"Thank you," you said so very quietly.

"I wanted to apologize for earlier, I—"

You cut him off, "Don't—You don't have to apologize. I understand, truly."

Silence loomed over the room, and only the sound of fabric rustling filled the void. You tried to find the right words to say, but you came up empty-handed.

Leon reached the last eyelet, and you held the gown at the bust so it wouldn't fall off. Although you admittedly wouldn't mind if it did.

Your back was entirely exposed to him, only inches away from pressing against his chest. Your mind slipped— what if you took a step back? Let him do what you want him to do. Let him explore your body even more than he did earlier.

His strong hands could surely do a lot, and his pretty blonde hair would look great between your legs—

God damn.

Leon broke your silent daydream by taking off his white-ruffled shirt. He handed it off to you at your side, gentlemen-like.

He meandered back to the couch, resuming his position of outstretched legs along the cushions, closing his eyes.

You checked over your shoulder to ensure his eyes were closed, and then you let your dress fall to the ground.

You dawned Leon's shirt. The cottony fabric felt soft against your skin and smelled overwhelming like him, rugged and masculine.

In the mirror, you watched yourself let down your updo, letting your hair fall and combing it out with your fingers. Here is where you noticed that Leon's shirt is just a little too sheer.

The outline of your silhouette was vaguely noticeable through his airy shirt, but your nipples were definitely visible.

Oh well.

You folded up the gown and placed it at the foot of the bed atop the quilted velvet ottoman. You were about to get into bed before peaking one more glance at Leon.

He was statuesque in the way his body stretched along the couch. He had a hand atop his very defined abs, and his other arm dangled off the couch.

The faint blueish hue of the moon illuminated him in gentle light, it was the only light in the room, save for the single lit candle next to the bed.

Leon was so pretty in the way he slept. He looked so at peace, so beautiful, and so kissable.

It pained you to not invite him to your bed; maybe in another lifetime, you would have.

But you certainly could not let him sleep without a blanket or a pillow.

You peeled off the first blanket layer of your bed, grabbed one of the many over-filled pillows, and tiptoed to where Leon rested.

Gently, you set a folded blanket on the foot of Leon's bed, causing him to open his eyes.

"What are you doing?" Leon's mumble trailed off into a yawn.

You whispered, "I don't want you to get cold, so I'm giving you some of my blankets."

Leon smiled faintly. "Oh, I see…" he trailed off and then added, "Thanks for that."

You looked pretty; your hair and makeup were a mess but in all the right ways.

Leon noticed how pretty you were. How pretty you were in his shirt, with nothing else underneath.

"I hope this is enough for you."

"Yes, it's more than enough," he reassured.

"I'm going to head to my bed then, goodnight Leon."

He didn't show it, and you would never know it, but he loved how you said his name.

"Goodnight to you, too."

In that moment, time stood still. You couldn't walk away. You wanted to bask in the shared space of each other's gazes, bound by lust. Leon, too, made no attempt to break away.

You'll probably regret it later, but there is no harm in trying, right?

Instead of leaving, you bent down as if to pick something up, but you stopped when you reached his ear.

"Leon..." You whispered quietly.

"Yes?"

Your heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it was gonna jump out of your chest. "Do you really want me to go?"

Leon paused, raking his mind for the correct answer. "No."

He turned his head, pressing his forehead to yours, and resting his hand on the back of your neck, running his fingers through your hair.

"I didn't want to either," you said breathily.

He smiled and kissed you. The first real kiss you shared. It felt like a wave of warmth crashing down your body, every one of your instincts telling you yes. His lips were soft and gentle against your own.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," Leon whispered into the kiss.

You replied, "Me neither."

Leon pulled you by your waist, sitting you on top of him, and deepened the kiss by grazing his tongue against yours. He tasted purely of wine.

Your hands ran desperately through Leon's hair as his hands caressed your ribcage down to your hips. His grasp settled onto your waist, stroking his thumbs along your ribs. You playfully bit his lip, praising the way he touched you.

Leon's lips broke away from yours, and they began to press small kisses down your cheek, and then your neck, and then your chest. Every single one felt like pure ecstasy against your skin.

Your arms wrapped around Leon's neck as you arched your back, pressing your chest deeper into his kiss. His grasp along your waist tightened with your movement.

He was aching and so hard in the confined trousers he still wore; Leon rocked you against himself while he made out with your chest.

You moaned with gasping breaths at the feeling of him rutting into you, your head falling back carelessly.

Leon's hand met the spots he kissed, dancing along the wet skin of your chest. His wandering fingers teased the outer edge of the shirt you wore, wanting to pull it down. His lips followed down the V of the shirt, But before he could do anything more, you raised your arms, slipping the shirt over your head.

You were entirely exposed to him, save for your underwear. Leon thanked you by pressing kisses along your pretty breasts, thumbs twirling around your hardened nipples. His lips met where his thumbs danced, puckering his lips around your nipples, stroking and sucking them with his tongue.

You gasped, nearly at the edge of becoming undone. Leon worshipped your breasts like his own personal deity, letting out low, strained moans.

You lost all sense of control, grinding yourself into Leon's bulging lap, getting off at the sensation of his cock twitching for you.

"More," You moaned as Leon released the suck on your nipple with a wet-sounding smack.

You pressed down on Leon's chest, pushing him into the couch.

God, you looked so lovely and desperate from Leon's perspective.

Your hands slipped between your legs, resting on the bulge that strained between them. You caressed him through the fabric, teasing him with a pouty smirk.

Leon's mouth gaped slightly, sucking in a breath as he watched you adore him. You nimbly unbuttoned his pants, pulling down the zipper.

Leon sat up and pushed you back so your legs wrapped around his waist. He stood up, picking you up with ease, and walked you to the bed, gently resting you onto the fortress of overstuffed pillows.

He took off his trousers before joining you, his protruding cock making a tent in his underwear.

"You're beautiful," Leon fawned at your figure before bending down to kiss your thighs. "I loved touching your legs earlier, darling," he added.

You're fully melting at his sugar-covered affections.

You sat up, taking Leon's head in your delicate hands with a devouring kiss. You pulled him back, so he laid on top of you. One of his arms embraced you, and the other brushed between your legs.

His fingers toyed with you, sweetly caressing you through your soaked underwear. You moaned into the kiss as Leon began tracing small circles over the fabric. His hands then nuzzled beneath your underwear, meeting your aching sex fully.

His calloused fingers lapped your cunt, but ended on your clit, circling it gently. You broke from his kiss, head arching back from the intensity of pleasure you felt. Leon licked his lips as he watched you fold under him. Leon tugged off your underwear, deepening your pleasure as he rubbed his fingers around your opening.

Your hands, in desperate need of touch, caressed the expanse of Leon's amazingly defined torso. It alone killed you, the sheer strength he possessed. He was trained into a lethal weapon, but man, did he feel so good.

From Leon's torso, you ventured lower, tugging at the waistband of his underwear. Leon's gaze met your begging doe eyes, pleading him for more.

With your help, he pulled off his underwear, releasing his pretty, throbbing cock. Your hand softly wrapped around his length, petting him slowly. Leon's breath hitched as you did so.

You wrapped a leg around Leon's waist, pulling yourself up to straddle him. Perched on his lap, you rested your soaking cunt onto the length of his cock. Leon's hands dug into your hips, grinding his himself against your folds.

"Leon," you gasped, soaking in the feeling of him beneath you.

He moaned, hungrily watching the way your bodies met.

He sat up, pressing his chest against your stomach, and pressed kisses along your breasts. As he did so, he lifted you up by the waist, giving himself just enough space to push his length into you.

Loudly, you whimpered as his length filled your entire cunt. You bounced yourself on Leon as he sucked your nipples.

Leon released you from his mouth, lying back down, fingers digging into your upper thighs as he fucked himself into you hard. Letting his entire length fill you up before pulling back.

You couldn't help your hopeless cries and moans as his pace picked up, fucking you like the world depended on it. Maybe it did.

You were a few forceful pumps away from reaching your peak, and as you forced yourself into him even deeper, Leon lifted you up by the waist, off of him.

Dazed, you whined, "Why."

He only responded by nudging you over onto your hands and knees, spreading your legs wide for himself.

Leon's cock pressed at your entrance while his hand toyed with your clit, teasing you. He so very slowly pushed himself in, making you feel every inch of his length as he entered you.

"Just like that," he hushed under a moan and then rammed his cock into you, building up speed, fucking you faster and faster.

Your nails dug into the bed sheets, reaching for something that does not exist. Leon smacked your ass with a deep moan as his tip reached even deeper inside of you.

The only noise filling the room was the sound of your skin clapping against his and your shared feverish moans.

"You feel so good," you cooed, pawing at the sheets. "I don't think I can last much longer."

He slowed down his pace, pulling his cock almost entirely out of you before inching himself back in. "You can last just a little longer for me, pretty girl."

"Okay, yes, please just fuck me harder," you pleaded. Grinding yourself on his length, desperate for more than he was giving.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Leon groaned and fucked you so hard that the bed was shaking back and forth. His arm reached up from behind, grasping your neck in his hand. He was hunched over you, fingers squeezing your jaw as he plunged deeper and faster.

His teeth were clenched, and his breath was fast as he burrowed his throbbing cock so far into your cunt that you came completely undone, crying his name as you rode your climax out.

"Leon, Leon, Leon," you cried as your wetness dripped down his leg.

Leon's breath seized as he pulled himself out of you, resting his cock on the small of your back, spilling hot all over your skin.

His grasp loosened, trailing down your neck. His head rested on your back, reeling himself back from his climax.

You rested your body, splaying yourself along the bed. Leon got off of you and frantically looked around the room for something to wipe your back with. He settled on the blanket you had left for him on the couch, thinking to himself, their problem, not mine.

"Thanks," you giggled as he cleaned you off.

He crawled into bed, tucking into the massive billowy covers, and you did the same. You blew out the single candle next to the bedside, leaving only moonlight to douse the room.

Leon opened up his arm, beckoning you into his embrace.

You cuddled him, soaking up his scent and his warmth. All while relishing in the tingling euphoria your body felt.

"Goodnight, for real?" Leon said quietly, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Goodnight, for real, Leon." Your heavy lids shut, falling into sleep.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You wake up on Leon's chest to a knock at the door. The morning sun singed the pounding headache induced by last night's wine-filled activities.

Leon woke up, too, wincing and rubbing his temples. He got out of bed, pulling on his underwear and pants.

Leon's hair was a disheveled mess, and the remnants of your lipstick still stained his neck and his cheek. He answered the door to one of the servants standing there.

She bowed, her thick French accent trembling. "Lord Kennedy, I apologize if I interrupted, but the king wants a word with you."

"Can you show me to the bath first? You can't seriously expect me to talk to him looking like this?" he sounded harsh, and you almost forgot about the character he had to play.

Her voice trembled. "Yes, of course, sir. Not that you look bad, but yes, I'll show you to the bath."

"And her too," the servant peaked her head through the doorway, under the arm that Leon propped himself up with, and saw you, sitting up in bed, covering your naked body with the duvet.

She immediately ducked back in line, "Yes, of course." she bowed her head once more.

Leon tossed you his shirt, which was lying on the ground beside the couch. Quickly put it on, and with a motion of his hand, Leon summoned you to him.

You acted shy, meekly hiding behind Leon.

"Follow me, My lord," The servant hushed, trailing you two down the hallway.

As you tiptoed down the hall, you were barefoot and more exposed than you cared to be. It felt slightly embarrassing, but there was no point in caring now, was there? At least you found amusement in a shirtless Leon.

The servant guided Leon to a bathroom for himself. She signaled him in with her hand while her head was low.

Before he entered, he added, looking down at the servant. "And get her a new dress, she can't go out looking like that... And she wouldn't be caught dead wearing her evening dress during the day, would she?" Leon sounded like an absolute asshole, but that was somehow amusing.

"Yes, my lord," She bowed for the 100th time.

He entered the bathing room, closing the door behind him, and the servant showed you to another bathroom.

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

You bathed in a massive clawfoot tub, sweet floral soap washing off all the makeup and memories of last night.

You were not sure how to even feel about last night. You'd never slept with a coworker before; you barely sleep with anyone anymore. Is this going to make things awkward when you leave? Or are you to pretend nothing happened at all?

A servant knocked on the door, interrupting your silent pondering before letting herself in. She quietly hung a pretty cream-colored Victorian gown hanging behind the door.

"Madame, Lord Kennedy is speaking with the King. He has asked you to wait while they finish up. We prepared breakfast for you in the dining room in case they go long. When you're ready, the dining room is down the stairs and to the left."

Who are you kidding, there are more pressing issues ahead; you're bathing and being fed in a vampire cult's castle for God's sake.

"Thank you," you said sweetly.

The servant promptly left the bathroom with a bow.

Soon, you will eliminate these vile creatures and leave. You just have to tough it out a little longer. One more day of acting like a mild-tempered little plaything, and this will all be over.

part two coming soon xx

#thank you for reading <3 #i've been so nervous to post this eek #i hope you like it #academy fics✨#throne of his own #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon resident evil #leon kennedy fanfic

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d1ana-m0nd · 6 months

Text

╭─► ❝The Servant: Umbrella Academy's Servant❞

Five Hargreeves × Female! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd)

➢ Description : A Q&A video with Y/R/N and Aidan Ghallagher.

➢ Word Count : 1,750

➢ Links : Masterlist && Character Profile

➢ Note : Not gonna lie, I am uncomfortable about writing a real person 😭, well, real people in general. That's why in this fanfic, Mr. Gallagher may come off as OOC. So please don't be surprised that I focused more on the reader's chaotic energy to contrast with Mr. Gallagher's tame personality. For the record, Y/R/N means your real name. Also please comment or let me know if you want a part 2 but with your questions instead.

Q&A with The Umbrella Academy cast ft. Aidan Gallagher and Y/R/N

"Hello everyone! As promised I promised to you guys, I brought over Y/R/N who plays Number Zero of the Umbrella Academy, for today's video." Aidan Ghallagher introduced the girl beside him who wore a large cardigan and an unamused look on her face.

"Are you for real?" Y/R/N asked, not humoured by Adian’s introduction but the actor looked amused by his fellow co-star’s reaction.

"Is that all you have to say I mean? You don't have a catchphrase or introduction for your channel?" She added but the brunette actor ignored her words knowing she’s just jesting for the video.

"Anywho, we will be answering some of your questions and we will be providing our answers to the best of our abilities."

The (your hair color) actor huffs and pretends to be hurt by being ignored.

"Oh yeah, I just wanted to double check Y/R/N, are you okay with answering the questions-"

"Of course I am, if I wasn't I wouldn't be here."

"You've been in my channel for 15 seconds and your already acting like it's yours."

The actress dramatically flips her hair then bats her lashes at the camera making Aidan laugh, "It's my job to make this entertaining. I know you can't possibly handle the weight of being the only star."

The boy smiles, clearly entertained by her actions but, managed to stifle his laughter. "We might as well start with the questions before this becomes her channel."

"So the first question is from, moe-moe-kyunette, I uh, did I say that right?" Aidan looked doubtful once he said the username then looked at Y/RN to help him out.

"Ship it and clip it everyone! You've tricked him into saying the thing!" The actress laughed as she slammed her fist against the table while holding her stomach, knowing the internet user just tricked Aidan into saying a meme.

"Wait, is it something bad?"

"Not a bad thing, it's like a japanese meme, an anime meme to be exact, about an idol girl trying to be cute so she says that."

"I see," As the actor was about to resume with the video but Y/R/N stopped him, "Wait, before you start, can you do the 'moe moe kyun' meme with the hand gestures?"

Aidan shook his head whilst smiling then resumed, "Well, they asked you the most important question. Have you ever listened to my music?"

The actress stiffened, "Did my manager really agree with the questions you picked?"

"Yes, yes, she did." He looks at her with a raised brow and an amused look then gestured to the camera, "Well, we are waiting Y/R/N."

"I-" She looks away flustered, "I'm sorry but I haven't listened to your music yet- I know I promised to listen to them but have not had the time to listen to them…"

"And why is that?" The brunette crosses his arms the look still on his face.

She nervously looks down at her feet, "It's just...I haven't been able to make time yet." He gives her a knowing look then gestures to the camera, "Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

"I just, I just- I just think that we should move on now! How about I read the next question?" She then nears the monitor, and Aidan is silently laughing.

"So Aidan and Y/R/N, is it true you guys fought on set?" The girl quickly hides her face in her cardigan from the camera. " I should have never read the question voluntarily!"

The boy beside her chuckles, "But, to answer your question, we have never fought on set, some people just misinterpreted that we had a fight because she hit the back of my head."

The actress hides herself with the cardigan she wore, "Look! That's how I greet my friends. I know that's not how other conventionally greet others that's why I only did it to people I was close with."

"Let me," She takes in a deep breath, then removes the cardigan from her face. "Let me add some context to the story first, so I mistook Aidan for my friend Astrid without her wig on, and yes, I didn't notice he was wearing his costume!"

"So like, I greeted him by slapping the back of his head. He turned to me confused why I just did that and I ran away out of instinct and never explained it until he had the chance to corner me."

Aidan was laughing so hard, "I had to corner her because I didn't want our scenes to become awkward than they already were. When I found out the reasoning I just forgave her but told her that she really shouldn't have ran away."

"It was instinct okay! That was not the first thing I thought of when I processed I just hit you. It didn't help either that we weren't friends yet, so I thought my whole career was ruined at that moment." The (your hair color) actress covered the half of her face.

The boy smiled though it was his way of attempting to stop himself from laughing anymore at his fellow co-star’s flustered state. "Gajh1098 asked, what is that one trait we like about our character at the same time hate?"

Y/R/N gestures for Aidan to start first, "You can start first."

He nodded then prompted his chin on his hand, "I would have to say, I hate how Five is confident in himself to the point it comes off as arrogance. Being confident is not bad but if you have seen Y/R/N here-"

She jumped then exclaimed loudly, "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"She acts too confident on camera but we all know - especially the other casts members - that she's actually tamed. You can see on our interviews as a cast, that she's like that one cousin in the corner, that doesn't know what to say so she hides behind her other cousins."

The girl cringed, "Oh, god, you saw those memes? I was hoping you wouldn't."

"I was literally there to witness it," The actor laughed then, added on. "Anywho, Y/R/N acts confident but it doesn't come off arrogant. She knows her limits but Five doesn't because he thinks he can do everything by himself that he ends up not recognizing that he can't do everything himself."

Y/R/N nods, "Yeah that's kinda toxic in a way. It's kinda like how in group works. You lead the group and end up doing everything yourself, because you don't trust your teammates. I can see why you wouldn't trust them but, you shouldn't push yourself to the point where you crash down."

Aidan nods then gestures at the girl, "Your turn to answer the question."

"So the one trait I dislike and like about Y/N is that she's flexible with handling people. She is very understanding, too understanding! She knows how to interact with them very well. It's a good trait in hindsight - especially in work places - but, it's not a good trait if you become so malleable that people take advantage of it."

The actor nodded along agreeing with her words.

The actress then abruptly sat up shouting, "MY TURN! I wanna read the next question! Oh yeah, do we have to mention the usernames? Or are you going to show them on screen?"

"I usually mention them because I feel like it makes them happy-"

"Well too bad! I'm going to make their day miserable." Y/R/N cheekily grinned. "This person asked why I always hide behind other people or hold onto their clothes like a child… Can we skip this?"

The boy chuckled, "No."

"Seriously, I feel like you and my manager are trying to humiliate me for the video.” She muttered under her breath, narrowing her eyes at Aidan suspiciously, “Anyways, I'm still getting used to cameras and it's kinda instinctual for me to do that I suppose? I'm not used to cameras since I have been used to working with microphones being a voice actor first and foremost."

His hazel's eyes light up, "Oh yeah, I recall you saying you were a VA, why did you audition for the show to begin with?"

The actress scratched her nape with a wry smile, "I thought it was a voice acting job not acting. I didn't even know until I was picked that it was an acting job. I scrambled to research on acting and kept asking the others if they could give me advice on acting."

He face palmed, smiling, "Did you not read what you were screening for?"

"To be fair, it was my manager who read it out loud, I just butted in and just said yes mindlessly because I saw the character designs and thought they were cool, I'm referring to the comics by the way."

"Next question from is from wbip8581, they asked how we become close?" The brunette male read the question outloud.

"Since Aidan and I got a lot of scenes together, I asked if we could work on them - like rehearse with each other so he could give me pointers on how to deliver my character."

"We hung out but, it was more on watching reality TV shows to examine and decipher how an angry person acts or how someone similar to Y/N acts." He added onto the girl’s explanation to which she nodded along.

"I think because of him, I got into watching Hell's kitchen," Both the actress and actor laughed at how true the statement was.

The brunette male then decided to move, "For now, this is the last question since I know the video is probably going to be long with how much Y/R/N rambles-"

"HEY!" The girl pretended to look offended by putting a hand over her heart.

Aidan chuckled, "So, the last question is from Immpotato10, do you two plan to make more videos together? Assuming that the Q&A does well."

"That depends really… although I like talking to Mr. Gallagher." She says his last name mockingly which made him roll his eyes, "I don't wanna overstay my time here in his channel, and if he has good video ideas then I will probably reconsider."

“Well, I suppose that’s goodbye for now!” Aidan bid his farewell to his audience followed by Y/R/N waving her two hands at the camera like a child.

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changbinlov3r · 4 days

Text

Unwritten | B.C. | Part 1

Pairing: Chan x afab!reader

Summary: the only thing your best friend ever asked was for you to not fall for her older brother, but what should you do when you come back home for the summer and he seems like the most irresistible man in the world?

Genre: nonidol!au, fluff, angst, smut

Words count: ± 12,710

Warnings: other than reader is fucking oblivious, there's none for this part but this fic WILL contain +18 themes so minors DO NOT INTERACT.

Don't forget to support my writing by ✨reblogging✨

A/N: Yeri and reader are 2 years younger than Chan and for the sake of context Chan is 21 in this fic.

A/N²: so I have been writing this fic for a few months ☠️ and the plan was to have one big ass chapter but you know me(my dad didn't give me love so I need validation) so I'm going to post this story in 2 parts 😚 I hope you guys like it 🫶🏻

When you were fourteen, you met your best friend. Yeri and you clicked right away, since then you knew you two were meant to be.

Yeri had transferred schools and you thought it was strange that she never mentioned any of her old friends but she could be shy about it so you never asked.

The first and only thing Yeri ever asked you was to not like her older brother. Christopher, nicknamed Chan, was the most popular boy in her school and that's how you found out why she never mentioned any of her friends.

Turns out people only befriended Yeri because of her brother and when he rejected one of her friends, who was pretty popular, the girl and her whole group of friends turned against Yeri and made her life a living hell.

That's how she ended up in your school and after Chan got into a fight because of the bullying situation with her friends, he decided to finish high school in an all boys academy.

He was 16 when you met him for the first time and at the time you didn't understand what people saw in him and to be fair he never gave you any reason to like him. So when Yeri asked you to not fall for him, you laughed promising that that would never happen. How could you ever like him? He makes his life's mission to annoy you, since the first moment he laid eyes on you he made you his target, he would find anything to make fun of you.

For example, the first time you drank alcohol. You and Yeri stole a bottle of whisky from her father's collection when you were 15, you got so intoxicated that you threw up a few hours later and ended up falling asleep right there on the toilet with your hair full of vomit.

Chan found you in the morning, if you didn't know him well you'd think he was worried as he shook you awake, but the moment he saw you opening your eyes, he took his phone out of his pocket and took a bunch of pictures of you, pictures that he would use to blackmail you later on.

He did take the blow for the stolen whisky, his father took his car for a whole month and that's how you ended up being basically his servant for that month. He would make you go to the convenience store with him, saying he wouldn't be able to bring things back home all by himself. He would use you as his personal clock, telling you to wake him the time he decided like a fucking alarm. He would make you watch his games and cheer for him, while Yeri would send you apologetic smiles while watching you go through that since it was her idea to steal her father's whisky. Chan wouldn't stop torturing you even after Yeri begged him.

However, when he got his car back, he stopped using you as his servant. He even started picking you and Yeri at school after class, you guessed that he felt guilty about all the things he put you through but he never apologized for it.

When you got into your dream university, you felt the happiest. Yours and Yeri’s family made a barbecue together to celebrate that the both of you got into the schools you two wanted but you were going to different universities.

Yeri got into the same university as her brother, he got a scholarship with their music program two years before the both of you and Yeri got in to study liberal arts. You, on the other hand, wanted to study History and you also landed a scholarship since your grades were always the best in school and you did a bunch of extra curricular activities that would look good on your register.

You and Yeri cried your eyes out when you both had to separate, it was the most heartbreaking moment of your life. Never for a moment since you met her did you imagine staying away from her for more than a day and now you would go basically six months without seeing each other — in the worst case scenario, a whole year. Why did you two have to go to schools that are basically across the country from each other?

“We'll facetime every day”, Yeri mumbles almost inaudibly because of her sobs.

“Yes, don't worry”, you smile, holding her by the shoulders while tears fell down from your eyes.

“Jezz, you're not dying, you're just going to different schools”, Chan roll his eyes, passing through to finish storing his sister's bags in the car.

“You're saying that because you'll have her all to yourself”, you roll your eyes, whipping your tears.

“And I should be happy about that because…?” He teases, making you want to punch him in the face.

“If you don't want to, then let's exchange places”, you fire back, feeling annoyed already.

“Unless you have studied 4 semesters of music and know how to produce and write songs, I don't think you can take my place”, he says, condescending.

“Fuck off, it mustn't be hard to just mix tracks and write words in a paper”, you say angrily. You know that's not what he does, Chan is very talented and it takes a whole lot of love for music to be as good as he is but you want to piss him off, so you said what you said.

“You just insulted a whole profession with a sentence, congratulations”, he huffs his eyes, “let's go before I tell dad who really stole his whisky”

“You're so childish, it's been years, when are you going to stop bringing that up?” Yeri huffs, letting go of your goodbye hug.

“Who knows”, he opens the driver's door, “maybe one day y/n will do something else that's gonna make me forget about that”, he winks at you, before giving you a smug smile and going into the car. For a moment there, just for a moment you felt a wave of heat on your lower stomach and maybe, just maybe you found Chan attractive? Nah, that's not possible, all the emotion of the moment must be messing with your head.

You give your last kiss on Yeri’s cheek and watch her entering the car, waving goodbye at you until the vehicle disappears at the end of the road.

The worst case scenario happened. One year was the time that you had to stay away from your best friend. On your first break, Yeri got stuck in her school preparing for a presentation they would do right when classes started again, she didn't go back home so she could get ready and she crushed it, they filmed the whole thing and she sent it to you, you never felt more proud of her than by seeing her doing what she loves.

On your second break from college your professor offered you a spot on his summer class that would help you on advanced subjects later. The seniors from your major told you he almost never offered that opportunity to anyone and him taking a freshman in was unheard of, so you dreadfully accepted.

Finally on your third break you two managed to free yourselves from the university shackles and got to go back home.

You're currently on a plane, so you're going to get home quicker and won't lose time with your best friend. You were so anxious last night before that you barely slept and forgot to put your phone to charge, so as soon as you got on the plane your phone died. At least you wouldn't have to bother putting it on airplane mode.

Your family is not the most affectionate and that's not bad, their way of showing love was always acts of service rather than physical touch or words of affirmation but when your parents see you, even though they went to visit you at school, both of them cry and hug you like they haven't seen you in years.

You appreciate being cherished by them, even though you never really care about how they showed they love for you, now you feel truly loved. When your parents feel like they are okay with letting you go, you drop your bags in your room and don't waste any more time, going to Yeri's house.

Will she cry when she sees you? She's such a cry baby, oh you miss her so much. You can't wait to stay awake the whole night talking to her about your college lives, even though you facetime almost everyday it can't even compare to gossiping face to face.

You knock on the door a few times, something you're not used to doing but after so long without going to visit it seems disrespectful to just barge in. No one answers though, but you hear the sounds of splashing in the backyard. You can't believe Yeri went to the pool first thing when she came home rather than go looking for you, but you decide to not hold that against her since it's so hot you feel like you could melt any time now.

You decide to go directly to the backyard to surprise her, so you open the side gate and walk slowly, careful to not make much noise while sneaking on her. What you didn't expect was to not find Yeri, but Hyunjin, Chan's friend there, laughing about something while scrolling on his phone.

He didn't take long to notice you, eyeing you up and down and smirking. He didn't have the time to say anything, though, since Chan came out of the water at that moment, splashing water on his friend. The first thing you noticed was how muscular he had gotten over this brief period of time you didn't see each other. The droplets of water run slowly on his skin and the smile he gives you when he sees you could positively melt you more than the hot weather.

“Hey”, he says, putting his hands on the pool's border, raising his body up to help himself out of the water. And the moment you see his whole body, you hiccup.

Oh my god, are you nervous? Why would you be nervous close to your best friend's annoying brother? For fuck sake, get your shit together, are you in need to get laid? It's been so long you slept with someone that now you are lusting over anyone?

“Hi”, you wave, shyly. It's easier said than done, you just can't move, you really are nervous.

“What's up with the glow up?” Hyunjin asks you, as always very rude.

“What's up with your face? Got uglier?” You fire back, making him laugh.

“You wish I'd give you a chance”, he rolls his eyes, “give up, I won't even give you the time of day”, he throws his hair to the side, scoffing.

You roll your eyes, huffing. That's just how your relationship with him works, Hyunjin doesn't have to do much to piss you off, he and Chan are the perfect best friends.

“Hm, where's Yeri?” You ask, avoiding looking at Chan, his body is distracting and you can't let him catch you eyeing him up. He kept getting closer while you talked with Hyunjin so his distance right now is not the safest for your sanity.

“What do you mean?” He frowns, “her flight got delayed because of a wind storm, she told me she texted you about it”

You sigh, there was no better moment for your phone to have died than right when your best friend needed to talk to you.

“My phone died when I got to the plane and I haven't had the time to charge it yet”, you start mumbling, “is she okay? When is she coming?”

“Yeah, she's okay”, Chan says, blinking a few times to assimilate the information you just gave him. “She'll be here tomorrow morning, probably”

“Okay”, you nod, calming down but frown immediately. “But why are you here?” You ask and he smirks, tilting his head to the side.

“I live here”

You huff, rolling your eyes.

“You know what I meant. Shouldn't you both have traveled together?”

“We would have if she didn't bomb in one of her classes, also, I finished mine earlier this year so I came back sooner”

“Ah, okay”, you nod, “I'll go back home, then. I'll come back when Yeri arrives”

Immediately after finishing your sentence, Chan steps close to you, as if he would hold you in place but he stops before doing anything.

“Why don't you stay a bit longer?” He asks. “It's hot, you can enjoy the pool while you're here”

You think about it for a moment, before shaking your head.

“I didn't even bring a swimsuit and I'd rather not stay in the same space as that guy”, you stick your tongue out to Hyunjin, who's paying attention to his phone.

“I'll drive you back home, then”, Chan says right away.

“There's no need”, you shake your head again, chuckling, “my house is barely twenty minutes away”

“But it's super hot today”, he points out, “I won't feel comfortable letting you go home walking”, he finishes and for the first time in your life, you don't wanna fight back. Actually, his serious tone made your face grow hotter.

“Alright”, you nod and he smiles, telling you to wait for him to change clothes and that he'll be back soon. He gives you the keys to his car, so you can turn on the AC while you wait for him.

As always, Chan's car is neat just like his personality. Everything is organized and there's no trash or dirt, you start the car, closing the doors so you can feel the cold air.

You hold your hair up, taking the scrunchie off of your wrist to tie your hair, but it falls on the floor, making you groan and bend down to look for it. You can't really see down the seat, so you just tap on the floor trying to feel the fabric of your scrunchie but what you find is much more interesting. A bra. You feel your whole face hot, throwing it back beneath the seat the moment you see what the piece of cloth you're holding is. Woah, who would have guessed that Chan has bitches? And even though you feel a weird feeling in your chest, you think that everyone has their own taste so of course someone would like him even though he's the most annoying man on earth.

You got curious though, is she pretty? The girl he's seeing. She's probably super pretty, he has always been popular, of course he won't accept someone that's less than pretty. You did see a girl on his Instagram account, maybe she's his girlfriend.

You're taken out of your thoughts with the sound of the driver's door opening. Chan enters the car, fastening his seatbelt while starting the car.

“It's been a while since we last saw each other”, he says, not taking his eyes off of the road.

“Right? Who'd guess Yeri and I would have so many things come up, I'm dying to see her”, you finish excitedly.

“I was actually talking about you and I”, he answers and you look at him, seeing the man chewing on his bottom lip.

“Oh?” You frown, why would he? You're not even friends, “I guess it has really been a long while”, you nod.

You stay silent, not really understanding the ambiance and why you swear there's some tension there.

“How about school? Are you seeing anyone?” He asks, trying to change the subject.

“Hm, it's cool, I like what I'm studying”, you fidget with your fingers, “and no, I'm not seeing anyone”, you sigh, “there's just not really anyone that caught my eye I guess”, you tell him and you swear you can see a faint smile on his lips but before you can ask him about his girlfriend, he parks in front of your house.

“We are here”, Chan turns to you. You didn't even notice you were arriving already.

“Thank you for the ride, Chan. I'll see you tomorrow”, you tell him, getting out of the car and waving goodbye to him before walking to your door.

You find your phone thrown on the top of your bed, charging him just to find almost a hundred calls and texts from Yeri, talking about the chaos, the whole flight confusion and saying sorry she wouldn't get to see you right now.

You facetime her, waiting a few seconds and in a moment her bright smile shows up on the screen.

“Girl, I thought your plane had crashed”, it's the first thing she says.

“And why don't I see puffy eyes and despair in your voice?” You ask, ironically, making her roll her eyes.

“I doubt you'd let yourself die that way”, she informs you, “anyways, why couldn't I reach out to you?”

“My phone died and I hurried to see you right when I got home”, you smile sheepishly.

“Oh, was Chris home?” She asks and you nod, “that's good, my parents are out of town until next week, you'd have been stuck outside if he wasn't there”

“Yeah”, you nod, remembering the scene of Chan slipping out of the pool, how his wet swim trunks hugged his thighs and the water drops falling from his hair on his plump lips.

“Are you listening?” You hear Yeri say in a higher pitch, she always does that to catch your attention. Your face turns hot in an instant, what are those gross thoughts? You're going crazy, that's the only answer possible.

“I dozed off, couldn't sleep well because I was so excited to see you”, you make something up that is not entirely a lie.

“Ow, you're so cute”, she squeals, “I was gonna surprise you but since I'm gonna be late I'll tell you now”, Yeri says.

“What's it?”

“I'm taking my boyfriend with me on this trip”, Yeri giggles, making you frown instantly.

“What boyfriend?”

“You know, Minhwan, the guy I have been talking about for months now?” She declares as if it's obvious.

“The one who left you on read for an entire week and then came after you at a party just because you were with another guy?” You ask, incredulous.

“Yeah, he said he was sorry about that”, she giggles.

“Girl”, that's the only thing you can say, you can't believe your best friend is settling for that.

“What about you? Any hot guys on the plane?” She asks, changing the subject before you can nag her about her choice in men.

“Nah, an old couple seated by my side and they tried to set me up with their grandson”

“Oh? Did they show you pics? Was he handsome?” Yeri asks, excitedly.

“He's 39”, you tell her, smiling painfully, “they told me he’s nice and has two kids”

“Well, babes, we both know you're better alone”, your friend tries to cheer you up and you nod, agreeing with her, even though at that moment the only thing going through your mind is this crazy thought about Chan: what if?

You cry like an idiot when Yeri arrives, you missed her so much and you didn't even notice how much until you saw her again.

“You look so pretty”, you tell her, making her spin around so you can have a look. “I see college made you hotter”, you give her a thumbs up.

“Look who's talking”, she giggles, “I'm going to have to be your bodyguard this summer, guys are going to line up to see you”

You laugh, rolling your eyes and before you can say anything else, someone clears their throat, making you look in their direction just to see Yeri’s boyfriend there.

“Oh! This is my boyfriend, Minhwa”, she introduces you two. He gives you a charming smile, while sticking his hand to you.

“Hey”, he says, waiting for you to shake it, while you stare at him.

You don't like him, he seems like bad news, but is forced to shake his hand when your friend elbows you and whispers “be nice”

“Yeah, hi”, you say, not trying to hide your dissatisfaction but shaking his hand anyways. Just on time a loud horn sounds behind you, rescuing you from the awkward conversation that was about to happen.

“Chris is here”, Yeri squeals, grabbing her bags on the floor and walking to the car to greet her brother, who's already scolding her as soon as she lets go of his hug.

You watch Minhwan walk behind her and wait to be acknowledged by Chan, who eyes him up and down and glances at you. You shrug, shaking your head and he takes a deep breath, while Yeri introduces the two.

The trip back to their house is quiet, Yeri and her boyfriend go on the backseat while she talks about the city and shows him things of our childhood. He doesn't look all that interested but also doesn't tell her to stop talking.

When Chan parks the car, the couple gets out first, while you close your eyes, leaning back on the passenger seat, taking a deep breath.

“I guess no one thought that's her type”, Chan says, watching you opening your eyes slowly and turning your head to look at him.

“I don't think he's anyone's type”, you whisper and Chan chuckles.

“So you don't like a man who ignores you and then acts like nothing happened?” He teases, tilting his head to the side, making you chuckle.

“No, I like a man who shows how much he likes me”, you inform him, but the way Chan looks at you has a meaning you’re not sure you understand. He bites his bottom lip, nodding.

“That's good to know”, he says before opening the door and getting out of the car.

You frown, the way he's acting since you met him again is so weird. You definitely don't understand him.

After unpacking and updating you on a bunch of things, Yeri invites you to go to the pool. The day is sunny and hot, as expected of a typical summer afternoon. Chan invited his friends too, so Minhwa is basically the only stranger to you all.

Your best friend makes you wear a bikini, something you're not used to. You always try to cover yourself with a shirt or at least a swimsuit, not really confident about your body, but she’s not having it today saying that except for Minhwa everyone there has known you for years. You end up giving in, wearing the piece of fabric she provided to you.

“Just a question: is this supposed to cover me?” You ask, really wondering.

“You’re such a prude sometimes”, Yeri rolls her eyes. “This shows just enough, don’t worry about it”, she comforts you, but you’re not sure if it works. ‘Just enough’ for her surely is not enough for you. You decide to suck it up anyways, she’s right, everyone there except her boyfriend knows you since you were a teen, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.

That’s what you thought, at least. You’re sure there’s nothing much to look at but then why do you feel Chan’s eyes burning a hole in your body? You didn’t do anything to make him mad, so you’re not sure why he’s staring at you so intensely.

You sit on one of the chairs after greeting everyone, watching as Yeri jumps in the pool with her boyfriend, giggling and kissing him. You may not like him but it’s good to see her this happy.

You close your eyes, laying down on the chair, the sun is burning your skin when something is thrown at you. You open your eyes, a frown on your face while you stare at a towel. Your eyes wander to the figure by your side, just to find Chan standing there.

“What’s this?” You ask, lifting the towel off you.

“That’s for you to cover yourself, that thing you’re wearing is not doing the job properly”, he says, pointing at your bikini.

“Excuse me?” You ask, shocked.

“You’re excused, now please, cover up”, he repeats, looking around. He avoids looking at you when you toss the towel back to him.

“Fuck off”, you say, closing your eyes again, hearing him huff. Why does he have to be an asshole about this? Are you that ugly he can't bear one afternoon looking at your body?

You think Chan is going to leave you alone now, when you hear his footsteps fading away but then the sound of something being dragged hits your ears and you open your eyes again to see Chan bringing the chair closer to you.

“If you’re not going to cooperate, I might as well stay here to bother you”, he grins, comfortably sitting.

“Are you for real?” You roll your eyes, you thought this childish urge he has to annoy you had disappeared but clearly you were wrong. He ignores you, scrolling on his phone while he hums some stupid song he must have come up with.

After some time, you go into the pool, joking around with Yeri and playing games with the others. Chan is still there when you go back, watching you. If you didn’t know better you’d think he’s eye fucking you by the way he’s staring and it's scary how the thought that you wouldn’t mind if he really was comes to you mind.

You sigh, these strange thoughts keep appearing in your mind, you have to get over this before someone starts to notice, worse, before he starts noticing. You sit on your chair, taking your sunscreen out of your bag, applying it on your arms and face, on your chest, stomach and legs. You can’t reach your back, though and everyone is too engrossed in their playing for you to call someone to help, except Chan. You look at him discreetly, thinking if that’s a good idea, maybe you should just call it a day and go inside.

“Do you need some help?” He asks before you get to make your decision.

“Hm”, you try thinking fast, now much more nervous than before, “yeah”, you give in.

Chan smirks, stretching his hand to you so you can give him the sunscreen tube. You turn your back to him, without saying anything, not really wanting to prolong this awkward situation.

You hear the sound of the lotion being splashed in his hand and then the sound of him brushing his hands to spread the product, you won’t ever admit it but you’re dying with the anticipation of his hands on your skin. His long, strong fingers brush against your shoulder blades, spreading the sunscreen gently, massaging it for longer than necessary but you’re not complaining about it.

You feel your cheeks grow hotter, his hands go down to your lower back, putting more lotion on the area and caressing your skin. You shouldn’t feel this excited about it, you know you shouldn’t but the heat you feel on your lower stomach is not something you can control.

You get goosebumps when you feel his breathing too close to your skin, making you shiver.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” He murmurs, making your eyes grow wide. You turn around fast looking at him just to find him staring right back at you, lips stuck between his teeth and the corners of his goddamn sexy mouth upturned in a cocky smile. Before you can even answer him, your phone rings, making you jump out of the chair to at least a meter away from the man.

You pick your phone up, listening to your mom's voice asking you what you want for dinner, saying you weren't answering her texts.

“I-I'll go home now and we can go grocery shopping”, you stutter, trying to recompose yourself, trying to make your heartbeat go back to normal.

She answers telling you to hurry up then, because it's almost time to make dinner. You don't even look back at Chan, you can't really, he must've misspoken, there's no way he asked you that with an ulterior motive, there's no way. But even though you're telling yourself that you can't control the heat radiating from your cheeks, from your whole body actually.

You collect your things, running to Yeri in the pool and telling her you're going home, then you hurry back inside to change and run back home, still embarrassingly flustered.

You feel distracted the whole trip to the grocery store, you talk with your mom automatically, not really paying attention to anything other than the memories of Chan's hands on your skin, burning every bit he touched.

You're debating with yourself which snacks you should buy for your sleepover with Yeri in the weekend when you hear your name being called.

“y/n? Oh my god, it's been ages”, Yuna, a classmate from your highschool times approaches you.

“Oh, hi!” You smile at her, she was always very nice with you and Yeri when you studied together. “It really has been a long time”, you nod.

“Are you on break? Your mom told mine that you went to that school you always dreamed about”, she asks excitedly.

“Yeah, I'm visiting”, you look around to see if you can find your mom, you don't want to believe that you got lost even though you're a grown up.

“You know what? My boyfriend is throwing a party this friday, why don't you come?” She smiles, “bring Yeri too, I miss her”, she says.

“Oh, yeah”, you nod, “I'll talk to her and let you know”

“You still have the same phone number?” Yuna asks.

“I do. You can text me the details”, you smile at her. “Oh, my mom is here”, you point at the older woman, pointing to the watch on her wrist for you to hurry up.

“Okay, see you!” Yuna waves goodbye to you and your mom while she walks away.

You go out with Yeri alone for the first time since you met after all this time. She left Minhwa with Chan and the other guys, meeting you in the mall after. You visit every store in there, buying clothes and trying weird things you would never spend money on but can have a good laugh at.

“Yuna? She's nice”, Yeri says, putting on orange pants.

“Yeah, she texted me the details yesterday”, you look at her choice of clothes disgustingly, like you're any better wearing a large shirt with tiger print on it.

“We should go”, she nods, taking the piece of fabric off. “And then Saturday we can do our little sleepover in my house”

“Okay, I'll tell her we'll be there”, you watch as she turns to look at you. “Hm… I meant to ask you before but didn't get the chance… How's it? To see Hyunjin after a while?” You ask, cautiously. You have been avoiding this subject since Yeri is dating someone else now, but you couldn't help but notice the few glances she still throws at her childhood love.

“Oh, I'm fine”, she smiles without looking in your eyes and you know she's lying.

Yeri liked Hyunjin for a long time, even though he never gave her any signs that he liked her back. So when she got into college, she promised she would do anything to forget him.

“Are you sure?” You press, not really wanting to force her to tell the truth but also trying to show that you care.

“Yeah”, she smiles at you and look into your eyes, “and even if I'm not, I'm sure I'll be fine soon”

You pout, walking to her and opening your arms for a hug.

“My poor baby, you went through a lot but everything will be fine”, you caress her back while she wraps her arms around your waist. “I love you and that's all that matters”, you say proudly, making her laugh.

“Shall we buy some clothes for the party?” She lifts her head to peek at you and you laugh.

“Anything for you”, you answer, sighing.

You definitely shouldn't let Yeri choose your clothes for any event. You should have already learned that but every time she'll ask with puppy eyes and you'll give in because you can't say no to your best friend. So even though her clothing tastes are a lot more extravagant than yours, you always have hope that she'll choose something modest. But that's never the case and this time is no different.

She chose a black dress that can barely cover your ass, it has a cleavage so low you're not sure your boobs won't just pop out of there if you move too hastily. You put on safety shorts just to be sure, you don't want anyone to have a peek at your panties and also a strapless bra to make sure they are safe and sound right there.

You still feel exposed, but with Yeri hyping you up the whole time she helps you get ready, you start thinking that you don't look so bad. You do your own makeup, too afraid of what she'll try on you and you leave your hair down, carrying a hair tie on your wrist just in case it gets too hot.

You, Yeri and Minhwa take an uber to the party. It's already possible to listen to the loud music when the car is turning on the corner, dropping you three a bit far from the house since even the street is crowded.

You didn't even know there was a house this big in your town, it has a big garden, three floors and a pool that's probably the size of your house.

“You came!” You hear a squeal as soon as you enter the door to the house. Yuna comes running in your direction, hugging Yeri. “Girl, it's been so long”

“We need to catch up”, your best friend says excitedly, turning to Minhwa and introducing him to Yuna.

“You didn't bring your boyfriend?” Yuna asks you, making you tilt your head in confusion.

“I don't have one”, you answer.

“Oh? Ah, I see”, she seems confused, looking like she's trying to remember something. “Don't worry I'll help you find someone nice today”, she grabs your hand reassuringly, pulling you three to the middle of the crowd before you can say you're not interested in her proposition.

You see some familiar faces along the way, some people that attended the same school as you and some friends of Chan. You managed to not think about him for a couple of hours, not letting his voice appear in your mind just to make you confused. You even avoided going to Yeri's house, inviting her to get ready at yours.

Yuna stops you all when she meets a group of people, she introduces you all to her boyfriend and his friends. There are some girls there, pretty girls that make you a bit uncomfortable. Because they are naturally pretty and you suddenly feel like you're trying too hard just to look decent.

You fidget unconformably on your tiny dress, feeling embarrassed now. Everyone is talking but you feel left out, maybe it’s just your overthinking.

“Hey”, you hear a masculine voice right next to you, making you turn around to look at the guy. He's cute, a bit taller than you.

“Hi”, you smile, waving at him awkwardly, not needed to say that you're not very good at flirting.

“Jihoon!” Yuna says, “I was going to introduce you to y/n tonight”, she smirks.

“I think I remember her from school”, he answers, eyeing you and then he laughs with your panicked face, you don't remember him at all. “It's okay if you don't remember me, I was always buried in books and I basically slept in the science club”

“Oh, yeah”, you nod, “maybe that's it, I don't think I ever visited the science club in high school”, you laugh, making him smile.

“Why don't you get something to drink together?” Yuna suggests, winking at you.

“Sure”, you nod, looking at him who just shrugs. “Sorry about that, apparently she really wants to set me up with someone”, you tell him when you start walking together.

“I don't mind”, he chuckles, “not if it's a pretty girl she's trying to set me up with”, he grins at you, making you blush.

He's someone comfortable to talk to, you two start sharing stories about your school years, teachers you both recall and weird things that happened. You chose a beer to drink, it helps you talk more freely. Jihoon tells you that he just got out of a long term relationship and that Yuna is only trying to help, making you laugh, telling him you never had a boyfriend so you're not sure why she's so set on finding someone for you.

After an hour or so goes by, you already drank more than you're supposed to, laughing too much at the not so funny jokes Jihoon is telling. When a song you like starts playing, you grab his hand, pulling him to the dancefloor with you. You do feel a bit more bold when you have a little too much to drink, so you put your arms around Jihoon’s neck, pressing your body against his. He doesn't waste time, wrapping your waist with his arms, resting his hands on your lower back. You start grinding on him, hips moving with the music playing in the background.

You two look at each other and laugh and you feel like you could definitely kiss him at that moment if it wasn't for the strong hold you feel on your wrist before you're yanked away from the man who looks extremely confused while you're dragged away.

You look at the person who's pulling you out of the house, you know that back too well for your own good.

“Chan?” You ask, even though you know it's him. “Let go of me”, you yell now, trying to stop him and get out of his grip. But he's too strong, he only releases you when you're far away from the house.

“What are you thinking?” He turns to you, face red in anger.

“That's something I should be asking”, you scowl, surprised with his reaction, you don't think you have ever seen Chan that mad.

“You were rubbing yourself on that guy in the middle of a party!” He grunts, “and what's that you're wearing?” He scowls, pointing at your clothes.

“It's a dress”, you say, sheepishly. The way he's looking at you makes you feel embarrassed.

“That shouldn't even be called clothing, it's just a piece of fabric”, Chan sighs, “did Yeri make you dress like that?” He asks, looking around to try and calm himself.

“She didn't make me do anything I didn't want to”, you tell him, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I'm not a child, I can take care of myself”, you say. “And what's it to you if I was rubbing on some dude? I could be fucking him in the middle of the crowd and you still wouldn't have anything to do with it”, you spit it out, feeling mad out of nowhere. He should be worrying about his girlfriend, not his sister's best friend.

“Are you sure you're not a child?” He asks, sarcastically. “You sure act like one sometimes”

“Fuck you, Christopher”, you yell, feeling the blood boiling in your body. You're so mad at him, why is he acting like this all of a sudden? He has no right to treat you like this, even if he's Yeri's brother. You turn around, leaving him behind and walking to the opposite side of the party, a walk may calm you down, you need to go home anyways.

Except that you feel his presence right behind you, throwing glances at him for five minutes until you stop completely.

“Stop following me”, you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I won't let you go home by yourself, look at the hour”, he scoffs.

“I would if someone hadn't dragged me out of the party”, you huff, “my phone is inside my purse and Yeri has it”, you tell him, making him feel guilty.

Chan didn't think it through, the moment he saw you in another guy's arms he saw red, he didn't want to cause a scene but also couldn't control himself.

“I'll go back there and pick it up for you”, he grumbles embarrassedly.

“You should have thought about it before you pulled me out of there like that”, you say angrily, “you're Yeri's brother, not mine. I don't need you to look out for me like you do to her”, you sigh. This whole situation makes you sober up so fast that your head hurts.

“It's not the same”, he murmurs, frowning, “y/n, I don't see you like a little sister”, he says like it's obvious. “The reason I take care of you is not the same reason why I take care of Yeri”

“Well, mister Bang, please enlighten me with the difference, then. Because I have no clue and it fucking sucks”, you tell him, sarcastically.

He opens his mouth to say something but his phone starts buzzing in his pocket, saving him from whatever stupid thing he was gonna confess to you.

“She’s with me”, he says, when he hears Yeri's panicked voice because you disappeared, “I'll take her home, take care of her things”, he says before hanging up.

“I don't need you to take me home”, you tell him as soon as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

“Let's not discuss this right now”, he sighs, “my car is nearby, listen to me just this once”, he pleads, making you huff.

“Fine”, you roll your eyes and say “lead the way”

The car ride back home is silent, you don't want to talk to Chan. He has been acting weird since you met each other again after so long and that makes you mad because you thought that now you both would be adults enough to stop annoying each other, but maybe you were wrong.

“You should stop meddling in my business”, you tell him as soon as he parks in front of your house. “Let's be mature from now on, I won't mess with you and you do the same for me”, you tell him but Chan doesn't answer, he just stares at you like he's analyzing something and you definitely don't like that. He smirks next, throwing you off.

“Don't wanna”, he shrugs, “I'm going to do whatever I want from now on”

You sigh, shaking your head, it's already time for you to stop trying to understand this guy.

“You should keep calling me Christopher though, I liked it”, he points out, amused, making you frown.

“Good night, Chan”, you huff, opening the door of the car and getting off. You don't look back while walking to your house, that man makes you so mad it's driving you insane.

The whole point of calling him Chan is because he doesn't like being called that, you're the only person who does and it's just to annoy him and you won't entertain his antics since he doesn't want to leave you alone.

You wake up with the sound of the door of your room being closed with too much strength, making you groan in annoyance, your head hurting like crazy. You open your eyes slowly, trying to get used to the light coming through the windows, just to find Yeri standing at the end of the bed, arms crossed and eyes narrowed while watching you.

“How could you disappear last night?” She says, “I was so scared when I couldn't find you and then I freaked out when that guy you were with told me someone dragged you out”

You rub your eyes, watching your friend scold you. You can't believe you're being lectured about something that's not even your fault. 'Go fight your brother', you want to tell her, but for some reason you feel like you shouldn't.

“I'm sorry, I was drunk”, it's not entirely a lie, you were indeed drunk but you don't need to tell her that that was not the reason for your disappearance.

“Well who was the person who dragged you out?” She asks, brushing off your apology.

“I don't remember”, you lie again, feeling mad at yourself. Why are you lying to your best friend? Why are you scared to tell her it was her brother the one that made a scene because you were dancing with Jihoon?

“Stay close to me next time, okay? I'll make sure no one's gonna hurt you”, she huffs, pouting.

“Okay, thank you”, you smile. “Is everything alright for our sleepover today?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, Minhwa gave the idea of having a bonfire, tonight is supposed to be cold”, she says, talking about the things you should go buy, the snacks and the drinks.

“Oh, okay”, you nod, you didn't stop to think that her boyfriend would be with you two on your sleepover.

“I'll wait for you downstairs, hurry up and get ready”, she hushes you, clapping her hands.

You get up begrudgingly, dragging yourself out of the bed straight to the bathroom. Only a shower can help you feel better right now.

Your head is pounding and your stomach is hurting, you want to throw up and go back to sleep but you know Yeri won't leave you alone.

You don't know why Chan shows up on your mind when the hot water hits your skin, you feel your head more clear but your best friend's brother is intoxicating your brain.

You shake your head, like that's going to make you forget about his existence. You better distract yourself with other things so these thoughts won't show up when you're with Yeri.

After putting on some comfortable clothes, you go down, meeting your best friend there. She's talking to your parents about the things you're going to be doing for the day.

“I'll be back tomorrow”, you tell your mom, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Take care of her, old man”, you tell your dad, hugging him.

Both of them chuckle, knowing you do that just to annoy them.

“How did you end up with Chris yesterday, by the way?” Yeri asks, when you get out of the house.

“We just met by chance”, you say, still not feeling like it's right to tell her he was the one who made that scene the day before.

“Well”, she sighs, “don't you think he's acting weird lately? Did anything happen?” She presses, making your heart beat faster, as if you did something wrong.

“I don't know, maybe he broke up with his girlfriend or something”, you shrug.

“I don't think he has one, though”, she points out, making you snap your head to look at her.

“He doesn't?” You ask, shocked.

“At least he never told me about a girlfriend”, she says, making your heart skip a bit. What about that bra in his car? Is he just a player then? Maybe he fucks girls left and right and doesn't settle with just one person. Why does that thought make you feel worse than thinking he has a girlfriend?

It bothers you for the rest of the day, while you're grocery shopping, when you're on your trip to Yeri's house, when you start preparing things for the sleepover: why is Chan acting so weird lately? You thought he had a girlfriend so his behavior didn't mean anything to you until now. Now, there's a possibility that you have a chance with him and that scares you, not just because you think he may be a player who's going to seduce you and then pretend it never happened, but the fact that your promise to Yeri is not stopping you from lusting over her brother.

It's so weird having Minhwa with you two, you feel like you can't really let it all out because he's a stranger but you won't say that out loud since Yeri looks genuinely happy with his presence there. You all set the bonfire and are enjoying the night view while drinking some beers and talking. You two recall stories about your teenage years laughing about situations that made you two cry at that time. When you see your best friend rubbing her eyes and yawning, you know she's gonna call it a night. Yeri holds on for about one hour more until she tells you she's tired and wants to go to sleep. You're still full of energy so you tell her to go on first.

The temperature did drop, making you cover yourself with a blanket while you stare at the flames in the bonfire. The sound of the crickets in the distance makes you feel calm and the quiet of the night makes your mind go somewhere it shouldn't.

You have your thoughts interrupted by the one and only person guilty of those thoughts. You hear footsteps in the grass just to turn around and find Chan, walking towards you. He sits on the bench, right by your side, even though there are plenty of places he could sit on.

“Yeri already went to bed?” He asks, opening a can of beer and taking a sip.

“Yeah, she was tired”, you tell him. “Turns out she can't hold her liquor”, you joke.

“And you can?” He teases, making you roll your eyes.

“Yes, I do. I can go up to three or four bottles”, you brag, making him chuckle.

“I guess I won't find you sleeping in the bathroom again, then”, he says, making you turn around ready to argue, just to find him closer than you expected, more than you're used to.

“You should forget about that”, you whisper, trying to recompose yourself, forgetting your anger and just staring at his lips, looking down immediately.

“Should I?” He asks and you nod, feeling your cheeks grow hotter.

“Yeah, that was a long time ago”

“I guess you’re right”, he nods, tilting his head. “Maybe you should give me something else to think about”, Chan bites on his bottom lip, raising a brow in questioning.

“You have a suggestion?” You ask, chuckling, the atmosphere heavier at each second.

Chan stares at you for a moment, glancing from your eyes to your lips and then back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, making you smile amusedly, realizing he’s trying to prank you.

“Why would you want to kiss me?” You roll your eyes, making him frown.

“I wonder if you really don't know or are just pretending”, Chan says.

You feel your breath stuck in your throat, feeling your heart start beating faster and faster.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-”, you start saying but he interrupts you.

“I like you, I have liked you for a long time”, he declares.

“You shouldn't joke about that”, you feel your whole face turn red, a burn in your chest.

“I'm not joking, y/n”, he says, making you stare at him.

There’s no way he likes you, it’s impossible, right?

Right?

Before you can even think properly, your lips crash into his. You put your hands on the back of his neck to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. Chan is confused for a moment but it doesn't take long for him to reciprocate your eagerness, brushing his tongue on yours. His hand slips to your hip, squeezing so hard you could feel his nails digging on the skin. His lips are so soft and welcoming, it feels like you never tried anything like it

“Can I ask you something?” Yeri's voice sounds so clear in your head it seems like she's right by your side, “can you please not fall for my brother?”

You put your hands on Chan's chest, pushing him away from you and standing up.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry” you plead, not sure if you're saying that to him or his sister. “I- this was a mistake”, you stumble back almost falling, making Chan stand up to help you but you shake your head, turning around and running out of the gate.

You run without stopping until you get home, you’re breathless and you want to throw up, the butterflies in your stomach are not strong enough to ease the guilt you’re feeling, you can't believe you kissed Chan, you broke your promise.

How can you look in Yeri’s eyes now? You’re so scared now, what if she never wants to see you again? The worst of all is that thinking about the kiss makes your heart flutter and the ghost of a smile grow instantly on your lips before you can get a hold of yourself. You can’t be like this, you can’t be attracted to Chan and you really can’t fall for him, even though you already suspect that this feeling goes beyond just attraction.

You avoid Yeri for a whole week, not trusting yourself to not blurt out everything that happened the moment you see her face. You cried for a while, heartbroken for breaking your promise but also for the feelings that now you have to bury, so you can keep your friendship.

You told her you were sick that's why you went back home that night rather than staying over. It’s not a lie, in your defense you feel sick to your stomach every time you think about seeing her and it’s even worse when you think about Chan. The thought of seeing him again makes you nervous and not the type of guilty nervousness that you should be feeling but the type where you feel your heart flutter. Why did he have to make a move? He could have just kept his feelings to himself, the same way you were trying to do before you two kissed. Chan can have any girl in the world, so why you? You’re pretty, there’s no denying it but there are a hundred more pretty girls he must have met that are not his sister’s best friend.

When Yeri shows up at your door, bringing snacks you want to scream, literally. She looks worried, asking how you’re feeling and inviting you to stay at her house so she can take care of you but you don’t want to step foot in her house ever again — or any place that her brother might be present, for that matter.

“Are you mad at me or something?” She asks, sulking. “Is it because of Minhwa? He’s kinda boring right?” She completes, nervously trying to find out what she did wrong to make you mad.

“I’m not mad”, you sigh, you didn’t want her to think she’s the one at fault when you’re the one who broke the promise you made to her. “I’m just not feeling well lately”, you tell her.

“But did something happen?” She enquiries.

“No, nothing much”, you lie once more, feeling tired from lying so much to your best friend in such a short period of time. “But what about Minhwa being boring?” You ask her, trying to change the subject, her eyes widen immediately. She wasn’t supposed to let that out but she was so nervous that she just blurted it out.

“Well, I may be tired of him already”, she bites on her bottom lip and fidgeting with her hands.

“Girl, I knew this was going to happen”, you shake your head, completely forgetting about all your problems, too involved in the juice. “You aren’t over Hyunjin and it shows!”

“Fuck off”, she sulks, crossing her arms. “You’re so mean to me, I’m going through a hard time”

“Babes, please, you put yourself in this situation when you started dating the guy who ghosted you for an entire week”, you throw it in her face.

“Woah, never thought my best friend would judge me like that”, she sighs dramatically.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes”, you pat her back, “If not me calling you out, then who?”

“You’re right but I won’t admit it”, she nods, tsking. “Wanna go buy ice cream?” She asks out of nowhere.

“Sure, let’s go”, you smile. Just a few minutes with her and you’re already feeling so much better, you don’t think you would ever trade your friendship for the world.

You walk back home with a bag of popsicles, the sun is so strong that you don't think the ice pops are going to arrive intact in your house.

You're listening to Yeri's rant about her soon to be ex boyfriend when you hear the sound of a horn. You close your eyes painfully, you know that sound too well. Your best friend turns around with a big smile on her lips but you don't want to do the same, although you see her smile disappearing in a moment.

“Hey, wanna a ride?” You hear Hyunjin’s voice behind you, forcing you to turn around. He's seated in the passenger's seat while Chan is in the driver's seat, staring at you like he could burn a hole in your body. You can't avoid feeling your cheeks growing hot, you just want to get out of there.

“Yeah, why not?” Yeri says, grabbing the bag from your hands and walking to the car.

“Actually I'm going to walk some more”, you say, making her turn to look at you.

“What? It's hot as hell, why do you want to walk?”

“I don't know, I just feel like it”, you shrug, seeing Chan chuckle inside the car.

“I can accompany you if you want to walk”, he raises a brow, “I wanted to stretch my legs anyway”

You huff, closing your eyes. There's no way out, right?

“I guess it wouldn't be good for me to overdo it since I'm not feeling well”, you say, stepping closer to the car while Yeri goes in.

The ride is silent on your part, you don't want to look at Chan but every time you give in to your curiosity and peek at him, he's staring at you through the rear-view mirror. Yeri talks about everything nervously avoiding looking at Hyunjin but you swear you can see him awkwardly fidgeting in his seat.

When the car stops in front of Yeri's house, you feel your whole body freeze.

“I'm going to take y/n home, I forgot I had to run an errand for dad”, Chan says, making instant panic grow in your body.

“There's no need, I can walk”, you tell him, opening the door of the car.

“Girl? You told me you were not feeling well, he's going that way anyways”, Yeri says, frowning. She's probably confused as to why you don't want to accept the ride. What if she starts suspecting you? What if she starts making questions you don't know how to answer? Chan stares at you with a raised brown, waiting for you to come up with another excuse but you are afraid your best friend is going to realize you're trying to avoid her brother. So you just nod, going into the car again, this time in the passenger seat in the front.

The car goes on quietly throughout the ride, you are fidgeting with your fingers, looking anxiously outside the window, praying that you get home soon. When Chan parks in front of your house, your first instinct is to open the door so you can run out of that situation, but that's when you realize the car is locked.

“Hm, can you let me go?” You murmur, not taking your eyes out of the window.

“Not until you look at me”, he tells you, voice more hoarse than you remember but you do it, you look at him just so he can let you go.

“Happy?” You ask, cheeks burning while you stare at him but the look in his face is the opposite of happiness, he seems hurt.

“Do you hate my feelings for you so much?” He asks, scowling. “If you can't stand the thought of me just say it, don't run away”

You sigh, he looks desperate, like he's going to break apart if you don't hold him right now.

“Chan- I-”, you have no words to tell him. “I made a promise to your sister, that I'd never fall for you”, you tell him, hoping he can understand you.

“What about me? You don't care a bit about me?”

“I do”, you sigh, “but what should I do? You want me to choose between you or Yeri? You know she's my best friend”

“I guess I'm nothing to you, then”, he unlocks the car, bending over you to open the door. “I'm sorry I made you stay”, he murmurs.

“You know that's not what I meant”, you try but he shakes his head.

“It's fine, I came on too strong. I guess I'm just tired of this unrequited love”, he sighs, smiling gently at you but you can see the sadness in his eyes.

Chan has been in love with you since he was 17, when he found you unconscious in the bathroom his heart stopped for a few seconds before he could move and try to wake you. He shook you awake, worriedly, smelling the scent of whisky coming from you, he couldn't believe you had drunk and was blacked out in his bathroom.

When you groaned, fluttering your eyes open he couldn't let you see his face so he just pulled his phone out of his pocket, taking pictures of your face while he chuckled to your rumbles, arguing with him.

Chan didn't accept that he liked you at first. He made you do his tasks for him, go to the store with him and have you cheer for him on his school games, he thought he could prove to himself that he didn't like you like that, but spending so much time with you only made him realize that it was not something small, he liked you for real.

You never looked at him twice but he was okay with that because you were never interested in anyone romantically, so Chan was able to keep his feelings to himself, hoping that one day you would look at him. When he went to college, he thought he would get over you but no one got him slightly interested, all he could think about was the day he would get to see you again when he went back home.

He didn't expect to find you in a relationship when he got back for his first break out of college, well, you never made it official but you were glued to that guy like you’d die if you stayed away from him for a second and it hurt Chan so much to watch you being in love with someone else.

It didn't last long, the guy turned out to be a huge asshole who was two-timing, that's why he never asked you to be his girlfriend. Chan spent so many nights awake in his bed, listening to your cries in Yeri's room, devastated because your first love didn't work out.

Well, Chan was also sad that his first love didn't feel the same about him either so he could understand your pain. When it was time for you to go to college on the other side of the country he hoped once more that he could forget you. Chan wished you'd find someone worth it in college and that the same happened to him so he could let go of his feelings for you.

However, he should have known that his feelings are much deeper than that. When you showed up in the pool that afternoon he honestly thought he was going to throw up. He hadn't seen you in a year and of course he didn't forget how beautiful you are, but there was something different about you and he couldn't quite understand what.

Chan caught you eyeing him up and even though that could mean nothing, he wished that for the first time you were seeing him like he wanted you to. So he started to make moves, nothing obvious, but most certainly provocative. He wanted you to feel charmed by him, he wanted you to pay attention to him.

All his hopes were shattered after you avoided him for an entire week. He really thought that you'd come around soon, that you'd give him a chance. He should have known that you'd never choose him over Yeri and he should be happy about that, right? You're loyal to his sister. But he really wanted you to be his, this time he really hoped you'd be his.

He tries not to bump into you when you're in his house and avoids doing anything with Yeri when she mentions you're coming too. Just like that two weeks go by without him seeing your face, it hurts like hell but he knows it's for the best. You made your decision and he should respect that, he should move on.

So when Hyunjin — who's aware of Chan's struggles with his feelings for you — suggests to set Chan up with a friend of his, the older man is hesitant but accepts in the end, it's not going to be good for him to just stay at home, moping sadly about you not returning his feelings.

She's pretty, he's not going to pretend she's not, but he can't help but to think she's not as pretty as you. She's nice and kind, he thinks that he could easily fall in love with her if you didn't already owe his heart.

He tries with all his might to not think about you, he tries to focus on her. How her hair falls down on her shoulder and how she laughs softly. But you stay there, in the back of his mind, reminding him that he's not going to forget you that easily.

“Why are you here alone?” You hear Yeri's voice in the corridor, making you walk out of her room to see with who she's talking to. Hyunjin is laying down on Chan's bed, scrolling on his phone.

“Waiting for your brother to get back”, he shrugs, not even looking at Yeri.

“Where did he go?” She asks, crossing her arms in front of her chest, trying to look confident, even though her cheeks are pink. She hates when Hyunjin acts so indifferent, it makes her nervous.

“He went on a date”, Hyunjin says and your eyes immediately go out of your best friend's face to him. Your heart starts beating so fast in your chest that you can hear it in your ears.

What does he mean “a date”? Chan told you he liked you so why would he go on a date?

“I didn't know he was seeing someone”, you thank Yeri for asking something and Hyunjin looks at you, not her.

“Well, the girl he likes is being an idiot so he just decided to move on”, he smirks, making your cheeks burn. So he knows about you and Chan? Not that there ever existed something between the two of you but he definitely knows that Chan likes you.

“I didn't even know he had his eyes on someone”, Yeri says, confused.

“Your brother is full of secrets, it seems”, Hyunjin sits on the bed, stretching out. “I'll go now, he just texted me saying he was not coming home for another two or three hours”, the man says, standing up and walking past you and Yeri, seizing the opportunity to bump into you.

You're confused too, just like Yeri. How could her brother say those things to you, tell you he likes you just for him to move on so easily? Of course you didn't want him to keep trying anything with you so why does your chest hurt so much right now? Why do you feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest?

“Y/n!” You hear Yeri's voice, a pitch higher than usual, which means it's not the first time she's trying to get your attention. “Are you listening?”

“Yes, of course”, you nod, paying attention to what she says next.

“I can't believe Chan liked someone this whole time, why did he not tell me?” She wonders and you nod, “maybe it was you, that's why he didn't tell me”, she laughs out loud, making you stare at her for a second. “I'm kidding babes, why does it look like you have seen a ghost?” She jokes, spinning on her heels and walking back to her room, whining about how much she's gonna pester her brother for not telling her about his crush.

You couldn't sleep, every time you closed your eyes Chan showed up with that damn smirk of his. You hate him, you really do, how could he do this to you? Cause all this turmoil of emotions inside you and then just replace you with the first pretty girl that showed up?

It's well past midnight and the man is not home yet, you know that just because you have been walking left and right — for the last hour and a half, in his living room. You were already going to stay over but you didn't plan to meet Chan and much less planned on confronting him about this little game he's playing.

So when the front door is opened and a visibly tired Chan enters the house, you cross your arms in front of your chest, trying to look intimidating but you're sure you look anything but that. He stops on his tracks when he sees you, blinking a few times before closing the door behind him.

“You're here”, he says, avoiding your eyes.

“How was your date?” You ask, raising your brows in annoyance.

“Hmm... how do you know about that?” He looks at you, frowning.

“Does it matter?” You scoff, feeling your cheeks burning. You know you have no right to be doing this but at the same time you can't help it, your chest is aching too much. “I just think it's funny how you confessed to me a few weeks ago and now you're going around dating whomever”

“I don't understand”, he scowls, walking to where you are. “You rejected me, so why does it bother you that I may be going on dates?”

“It doesn't”, you shrug, feeling caught in your own trap. “I just find it crazy ‘cause the way you confessed made it look like you were in love with me or shit but I guess I got it wrong”

“Well, I am in love with you”, he informs, “I have been for years, y/n. But you don't want me and I'm tired of waiting for you to look at me, okay? I'm trying to move on so I can be happy with someone who likes me”

You gulp, holding back on the strange urge to tell him that you like him in that way, that you want to be happy with him.

“I guess you're right”, you step back. You know you're wrong and you don't want to lose Yeri's friendship but at the same time it hurts so much to let go of him, of this feeling that you don't even know when it started.

“I'm glad we are on the same page”, he murmurs, moving past you to go up the stairs but you can't let him, you can't give up on this. It's the first time that you ever felt this way about someone, that you really are about to risk ruining your friendship, but you can't let him go, not this time and possibly not in the future.

So you grab his wrist, making him stop on his tracks. Chan turns around slowly, brows knit together in confusion.

“What if I asked you to not move on?” You feel your cheeks burn, not looking into his eyes at first but when he says nothing you're forced to lock eyes with him. “What if I asked you to keep liking me?”

You don't think you have ever seen someone's face glow up so fast, Chan went from confused and sad to surprised and shining in the split of a second. He steps closer to you, bringing his hands to cup your face.

“I'd tell you that you're the only one I want”, he leans in so close, you can feel his breath hitting in your skin. “I'd ask you to please give me a chance to show you how much you mean to me”

He waits a few seconds, giving you time to regret and run away but you don't, you close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you and that's exactly what he does, soft lips touching yours gently, like you're going to break if he does anything hasty. Your hands go to the hem of his shirt, grabbing on the fabric to try and have some balance because your legs are about to give out.

You want to moan, honestly. He's so hot it's crazy, the way he's leaning over you, his body is not even touching yours but you can feel the warmth coming from his body, you can only imagine how good it must feel to be pressed against him.

You part the kiss to try and breath, but your face is so red with the impure thoughts you're having that you immediately take a few steps away from him, like you're going to jump his bones if you stay too close.

Chan groans, making you peek at him, even though you're still embarrassed about your crazy reaction to a simple kiss.

“Can you stop running away every time I kiss you?” He asks.

“I can assure you this time I'm not running away, I'm only trying to protect you from the pervert in me you just woke up”, you hiccup, why do you always say too much when you're nervous?

As expected of the tease Chan is, he raises a brow, stepping close to you.

“I'd like to get to know the pervert version of you, if you let me”, he grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him and pressing you against his body. You could die right now, you'd die happy. You can feel his muscular chest pressed on yours and he sneaks his hands lower until he reaches your ass, making you stay so close to him that you are sure you can feel something hard pressing against your stomach.

“Should I let you?” You try teasing him, feeling like an idiot for even trying but to your surprise it works, Chan grunts, kissing you again, this time more desperately like he would die if didn't feel your lips on his now.

Your kiss is interrupted by the sounds of a door closing upstairs, making you two pull away from each other, breathless. His face is red and his lips are puffy and you're no better than that.

You start fixing your hair and trying to look the most normal possible as you run to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When you come back, Yeri is coming down the stairs, grinning at Chan.

“I guess your date went well”, she teases, making him blush.

“I liked better what came after the date, actually”, he grins, eye siding you, making you choke on the water you're drinking to try and hide the mess on your face.

“Gross", Yeri says, disgusted. When she looks around, her eyes find you. "Oh, y/n, I came looking for you. You were not on the bedroom when I woke up”

“Yeah, I came down to get some water”, you lie.

“Are you okay? Your face is all red, do you have a fever?” She asks, worriedly, walking closer to you to put her hand on your forehead to compare your temperature with hers. “Hm, I don't think you have a fever”

“I'm sure it's just the hot weather”, you explain, “let's go back to sleep”

You push Yeri back to the stairs, going up with her and when you look behind to get one last look from Chan, he's smiling like an idiot, mouthing something like “I'll text you”, making you blush and shake your head, going up back to Yeri's room.

318 notes · View notes

lizzaneia-elizalde · 8 days

Text

Yandere(?) Jing Yuan

MY HUSBAND ✨

A little warning though. I quit playing HSR after 2.something. I don't remember. But it's because my devices can't handle it anymore :( at least I got Jing Yuan before I deleted the game. So I am probably going to put some wrong information here. Especially the timeline. Forgive me! Also,I lied. I'm not making this fic NSFW. Have some not so good angst LMAO Of course, there's spoilers so... Spoiler alert! Notes: Highly OOC Jing Yuan. He's a lonely man fr fr. Also, an extra long fic as an apology for disappearing like that lol. Also, not even sure if this counts as yandere. But just to be safe, i'm putting it here. So, dead dove, do not eat.

Being a long time trailblazer from the Astral Express made you develop quite the wanderlust in you.

You were originally from Xianzhou. A spoiled kid of a rich family that decided to embrace the free life when the Astral Express first visited your planet.

You developed a strong friendship with Himeko and Welt, alongside treating Dan Heng and March as your little siblings/children.

When Stelle arrived in the Astral Express, it seems that your little family is complete. Sure, Stelle may be a little gremlin with a Stellaron inside, but hey. Family is family.

When the talks of going to Xianzhou appeared, you volunteered to guide Stelle and March around alongside Welt. You did miss your family, and wanted to prove that you weren't the same immature person before.

Well, you know what happened next.

The wharf being abandoned, littered with mara struck soldiers...

It seems that Xianzhou became worse for wear.

Fearing for the worst, you urged the three to follow you and defeated the Mara stricken soldiers in such precision.

Seriously. You follow Nihility since you want to be more laid back in your life. But why does life keep forcing lemons down your throat? Now, it's even your family being dragged in your bad luck!

You got dragged by the three around until you all got to the square, and immediately bade goodbye for the time being. Promising to help them as soon as they need to. For now, you need to get back to your family.

Once you got to the manor, you burst through the door and was immediately smacked to shit by your parents.

"YOU PRODIGAL CHILD! NOW YOU COME BACK HOME?! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE..."

A nagfest, you took in their worry filled words with a sharp edge before calming them down. You asked if any in your family have been mara stricken, but all of them shook their head thankfully enough.

Then, you noticed a man by the tea room. It seems that your parents forgot etiquette and abandoned their guest.

"AH! Forgive us, General! It's just this child... Oooh this child!"

You took a peak and was stunned.

Jing Yuan. The guy whose family is from the Realm-Keeping Commissions? And he's the general now? That's...

"You remember Yuan-yuan, right? Y/N'er?"

Oh you remember alright. How can you not? You loved this man a lot.

You squirmed under Jing Yuan's golden gaze that's filled with an unreadable emotion that you're sure had to do with your past.

And the past is what he desperately holds onto up to this day...

"General! The astral express--"

Jing Yuan's usual relaxed demeanor stiffened, his eyes going rigid. If one looks close, the chess piece he's holding onto cracked, making it glitch.

His face softener a bit as to not scare Yanqing more who stepped back a bit.

"Is that so? Thank you for the information, Yanqing. You can go rest now."

The kid nodded before walking away and leaving Jing Yuan alone.

His world, once so bleak and dry, suddenly had a drop of rain that he once missed and took advantage of, thinking it won't go away.

"Y/N..." He whispered to himself, putting down the piece and washing his face with his palm.

Other than Jing Liu and the others, you were one of the few people he's close to. Ever since you both were in the academy, you've always didn't like his quite stubborn nature. He didn't like his academic strand, wanting to be a cloud knight.

He noticed you pulling a face whenever he cuts classes, sleeps, loafs around... Sure, you were spoiled to bits, but at least you have the decency to be good in school.

So, he made it a point to annoy you greatly. Always popping around the block wherever you were, following you while talking your ear off... Doesn't help that he's a classmate, it's a daily annoyance that you gradually welcomed over time.

It's a friendship born from being together all the time. You watch him train with Jing Liu, taught him stuff he didn't understand, and in return, he would teach you how to fend for yourself since you always told him you wanted to travel the galaxy.

And that friendship developed into something more intimate. Exchanging shy giggles, flirty whispers, firsts of everything... Even without a label other than lovers, you both knew that you two are destined and tied together. Soulmates, if you will.

He's happy that you were by his side. With the quintet and you, how much more happiness does he need in his life?

But sometimes, so much happiness meant that there will be a terrible thing happening the next day.

Fortunately for you, you left Xianzhou before the Baiheng incident in the process of saving the Xianzhou Yuque. It was a timely flight that Jing Yuan supported so that you will be safe from the chaos that will unfold.

Unfortunately for Jing Yuan though, he paid the price of seeing his friends fall one by one.

Baifeng, sacrificing herself when fighting Shuhu, Dan Feng creating a draconic abomination in the process of trying to ressurect Baifeng and solving the Vidyadhara reproduction problem, Yingxing being backfired and becoming immortal stricken with mara, and JIng Liu, also struck with mara.

He watches as his beloved quintet crumble to dust in such a short time, even defeating his own beloved master in order to save so many lives and bring justice to those lost.

Jing Yuan had no one. No one to turn to, no one to confide in.

In times like those, what he yearned is you. For you to return, for you to look at him with so much grief, concern, and care.

All he wanted is your hug, your reassurance that it wasn't his fault, and it wasn't his burden to carry.

But you didn't return. Not even a peep, not even a soul.

700 long years of waiting, of bottling up his emotions that it almost spilt over.

Sure, he's happier now, but is he truly happy?

Deep inside, he kind of resented you for being so blissfully unaware of what happened to him. Of what happened to the quintet. You never even contacted him in those 700 years. Did you just forget your relationship just like that? Did you move on from him? He thought both of you were together forever?

Then slowly, he got jealous. Of you, at first. Just travelling across the galaxies without a worry in the world. How selfish of you to just run off to the farflungs of the universe just to never contact him again. Shame on you. He's a worried lover! How can he not? Then, he got jealous of the people that you must have met. How much were they charming you that you forgot about him, your soulmate?

He started visiting your family in year 300 too. Consoling them and telling that you were gonna go back home. When? Soon. Like really soon.

He found solace in your family that started treating him as their own son. Taking care of him when he visits, entertaining him with a game of chess, maybe even talk about their life.

He also heard more stories about you. About your spoiled attitude outside of school, of your rebellious years, of your wants and needs to see the outside. It's as if he's living vicariously through your parents, and relieving your memories in order to not forget you.

Then, he starts yearning for your presence once more after just trying to forget you.

It's a never ending addictive cycle that he's lost in the deep trenches in.

You were the only constant in this godforsaken world, the wine he yearns to drown himself in in order to forget his problems. But his problem is the wine, his problem is you. But the alcoholic he is, he continue to guzzle down the addictive taste until reality blurs with fantasy. In which a picture perfect world existed were nothing went wrong, and you were still there back in his arms.

Over the years, he somehow got over it. Turned to tea, thought about stuff. But your family reminded him so much of you and told so much stories of you that he became so attached to the idea of you.

He started a little hobby of writing letters to your non-existent being. Thinking you'll read them in the future. He refuses to believe that you're dead and rotting in a ditch somewhere. He knows that you're alive. He knows it.

He wrote down what he wishes to tell you, on what he wanted to do with you once you come back like a little drink, maybe even roam around and show you what Xianzhou looks like after 700 years.

Then, it devolved into his frustrations, anger, jealousy, and grief about what happened in those measly years. On why he wanted to have you so bad with him, to have the only remaining friend with him by his side. He wants to cling to you, to finally have a full on restful sleep, but also yell at you for leaving him behind.

He thought of the people that made you forget him. Of the people that took you away from him. Yes, they may, no, they ARE the reason why you weren't returning home. They must be.

He knows he's wrong. And he's working on it. A few letters down the road had him apologizing, telling he's in the wrong, and started writing about what to do once you come back.

Until those letters carried a weight that he's thinking of.

What will happen if you decided to stay in Xianzhou this time?

What will happen if something or someone made you stay?

What if, Jing Yuan forced you stay?

An absurd idea, but those letters quickly became a drawn out plan on what he'll do to make you stay by him, by his side. Eternally until the end of both of your lifespans.

And those letters were now safely kept in his hand. They will not see the light of the day.

The time he knew that the Astral Express came to their wharf, with Yanqing telling him, he immediately ran to Fu Xuan to know who are the passengers of the train that stepped out to help.

And there you are. You chose the path of Nihility. Fitting for a person like you who wished for everything, yet nothing. A spoiled kid who only wanted meaningless vices and thrills to fill the void inside. You grew up so much just as him.

What is this feeling inside? Relief? Resentment? Guilt? Love?

Woah, love? Really? Does he really still feel love for you? Or is that just a byproduct of the putrid mix of emotions inside of him?

He always knew his feelings for you never disappeared. It was supposed to be just a harmless puppy love that is forgotten over time. Like come on, it's been seven centuries.

But seeing you there, with your mother still nagging you, and your eyes locked onto him with an excited, naive look on your face made those forgotten emotions resurface.

And unfortunately, became an unfortunate ingredient in the rancid pot of emotions he bottled up over the years.

The General, known for being laid back and relaxed, can feel that image slowly crack and crumble every step you take towards him with a smile on your face.

It's so painful. How can you have that sweet smile on your face while he had to endure so much guilt and pain that he doesn't deserve to undergo?

What's worse is that your smile was lifting so much off of his shoulders to the point that he wants to drag those problems back to his shoulders and stubbornly hold onto them just to prove you a point.

He can't believe you had so much power over him. It's driving him insane how your mere presence shook the centuries worth of healing that he did for himself.

The conflicting thoughts started to whirl in his head.

He wants you to stay, but he wants you to disappear now that you're actually here.

In those mere seconds, he composed himself and gave you a soft smile. A smile that usually had a lazy quality in them now looks rigid.

"Y/N, my love. How are you? It's been seven centuries!" Calm and composed. That's what he wishes his voice sounds like.

You, sweet, oblivious you, hugged him with such a smile on your face. After all, Jing Yuan was your lover. And you hoped that he didn't hate you that much from not communicating.

"Yuan! I'm so glad I met you here again! Wow... You're a general now! How cool is that?!"

Your excited voice grated his ears to the point that he wants to cover it vehemently, but he also wants to get a hold of it and hear it over and over again. Reassuring himself that you're actually here in the flesh with him and not just a figment of his fractured reality.

With a smile, you grabbed his hand and got out of your parents' manor, wanting to apologize to Yuan by catching up.

Are you really that insensitive? Such naive thinking that by only talking things out, the problem will be resolved. Well, in your defense, you didn't know what happened with JIng Yuan and the quintet. All you knew is that they grew apart from the looks of it.

You didn't undergo the same traumatic experience that Jing Yuan did, the agonizing isolation, the years of waiting for that somebody to come home, and your mental health devolving into something more sinister, something that crosses with your logic multiple times.

But here you are, flashing your carefree smile at the dying Jing Yuan who squeezed out a chuckle.

He wishes that you burn in hell. He wishes that HE burns in hell. He wishes to burn with you, spending the last agonizing minutes with you finally in his arms again.

He grasps your hand, wrestling out an apology in his mind to you.

But he can't let you go until you knew of the agony you left him with.

And that's going to take a lifetime with you by his side, shackled and ruined.

It has been a whirlwind of emotions.

You saw Dan Heng, turn into your old friend Dan Feng. Well, his visage anyways. Were you that blind to not see the similarities? Or were you blocking the image out of your mind in order to protect your own peace?

And Yingxing, no, Blade. When did he turn into this immortal, suicidal maniac who wishes for nothing but death for himself and revenge?

And it's Dan Feng's fault? Dan Feng would never!

Your image of Dan Heng/Feng started to mix, making you dizzy and confused.

Baiheng. She died? Did she really? So did Dan Feng's ritual work or not? Did she reincarnate? Is she somewhere out there?

What happened in those years?!

And Jing Liu... Jing Yuan's master. Mara stricken and committed a massacre. That Jing Liu?

Jing Yuan even defeated her himself... Oh gods, did he just carry that burden all by himself? All those years... Centuries of pain and suffering that he didn't deserve.

The carnage, the aftermath, the result of grieving.

It's almost too much to bear for you.

And you were just out in the world, travelling and being all wishy washy, enjoying yourself with your newfound friends?

For gods sake, you were Jing Yuan's lover! Did you just forget about him just like that? Then those promises. Were those fake and surface level?!

How about your old friends? Did you even consider them? In those seven centuries, did you not even think of them?

Of course you did! But you swore that you thought that they're going to do fine!

Guilt riddled your weary body. Exhaustion catching up to you as you wept in your room.

So much to process, so much to grieve. It was almost too much if it weren't for Jing Yuan there to comfort you. Telling you that it was okay, that it wasn't your fault.

But what if's kept popping up your mind. What if you returned earlier? What if you were there for Jing Yuan? What if you didn't actually leave?

And Jing Yuan was so nice throughout the whole thing. You only talked to Dan Heng for a little while, but you need more time.

You felt so selfish for being like this. Why are you so affected when you weren't even there?

That's it. You weren't there. You weren't there for your friends, for Jing Yuan who only has you.

Seven centuries of loneliness... How did he even endure it?

You wanted to share the burden so bad, to be with him and atone for those time lost. You want to be there for him.

You are a terrible lover. A terrible friend, and a terrible person. Those phrases continued to mingle in your mind and wore you down to your barebones.

Now, even a sneeze from Jing Yuan warrants you to panic.

And Jing Yuan had a sick sense of satisfaction from seeing you wallow in sorrow.

Again, he knows it's wrong. He knows that he shouldn't be delighted in seeing you suffer.

But that side of him loves the attention he thinks he deserves. The care that he's deprived of, the love that he's blatantly robbed of.

So, he eggs that anxiety in yours on more by talking about the past and the pain he went through, his eyes narrowing in an indescribable stare as your person gets hammered down more and more.

It was eating him alive. But he assures himself that this is just temporary. Once he felt satisfied, he will start fixing you up again good as new.

And, as your parents urged you to finally marry Jing Yuan, and you nodding in desperation to make it up to him more from the centuries of neglect as his lover, Jing Yuan apologizes in his mind once more, and holds you close.

Hello love, you certainly gave everyone a scare. They're all just thrilled to see you safe and sound. As for this latest little game of yours, thank the stars it's over. Did you have fun? Did you get everything out of your system? Good, good. Everyone is so relieved. Welcome home, Y/n. -Jing Yuan

(Original, unedited quote from White Diamond in Steven Universe)

186 notes · View notes

junghelioseok · 8 months

Text

miss taken.

↳ you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ fluff | smut | teacher!au | single parent!au | e2l ◇ 20.3k [1/1]

❛❛ our kids are bitter rivals and the only time we ever meet is when we’re both called to the principal’s office and whatever maybe i think you’re kind of cute but your kid’s a monster and ALSO someone keeps buying the last everything bagel at my favorite coffee shop 2 minutes before i get there in the morning and has heard about my plight and has started leaving me bragging notes about it ❜❜

notes: fic number two in the serendipity series is here at last!!! this took me like a million and a half years to finish because Real Life happened but here we finally are! also, i changed the type of bagel that the story is centered around, because i honestly didn’t come to like everything bagels until relatively recently and i will still only eat it if it’s part of a bagel sandwich because? just having cream cheese or whatever on an everything bagel feels kind of unhinged to me! but that’s neither here nor there and no one is here for my bagel opinions so! hope you enjoy the story!!! 💕

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dilf!jk, some kissing and hand stuff, ✨sexual tension✨ but nothing too terribly explicit tbh

Silence has never sounded louder.

You drum your fingers against the armrest of your chair, nails clacking against the cheap plastic. On the wall, the second hand of the clock completes yet another revolution, and you glance over when your companion sighs, plucks off her reading glasses, and sets them down on the desk beside the placard that houses her title: Principal Pamela Baker, Hybe Academy.

A woman nearing her fifties, Pam has sandy blonde hair cut into a neat bob and an enviable ability to pull off any lipstick color, no matter how bold. You’re lucky enough to call her both a friend and a mentor, and when she mutters a curse under her breath, you chuckle. “Late again,” she huffs, offering you a wry smile before leaning back in her seat and casting her gaze skyward. “Typical.”

“You know what these corporate types are like, Pam,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “They have zero regard for anyone else’s time. He was twenty minutes late to our parent-teacher conference last semester, so don’t take it personally.”

“Believe me, I know plenty of men like Jungkook Jeon,” Pam says with another sigh, this one heavier and longer than the last. “I even married one, you know. But that was before I came to my senses and divorced his ass. Best decision of my life, right after getting my tubes tied.”

“Three kids was enough for you?” you tease, and Pam snorts out a laugh.

“More than enough,” she replies. “What about you, though? Thinking of having another kid anytime soon?”

“I don’t think so… well, not anytime soon, at least. Ask me again in—”

The sound of a doorknob turning stops you in your tracks, and a moment later, the door to the office swings open with a dull click.

“Principal Baker. Miss {L/N}.” Jungkook Jeon is standing at the threshold in a wool coat the color of charcoal, the buttons of which are undone to reveal the undoubtedly designer suit underneath. His dark hair is parted neatly across his forehead, still sprinkled with lingering snowflakes from his journey here, and you bite back the urge to remark on his tardiness. Instead, you stand when your boss stands up, mustering up every ounce of professionalism you possibly can.

“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, giving his hand a firm shake before gesturing to the empty chair beside you. “It’s nice to see you again. Please, take a seat.”

You incline your head in Jungkook’s direction as he lowers himself into the plastic chair, the legs scraping against the tiled floor in protest as he adjusts his position. “Hello, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for finally joining us.”

If Jungkook notices the snarky inflection of your tone, he doesn’t let it show. He merely levels you with a cool gaze, blinking lazily before turning to your boss. “Excuse my tardiness,” he says, smoothing down the lapels of his black jacket and straightening his slate blue tie. “I got here as fast as I could. Where is my daughter?”

Pam gestures toward the door. “Daeun is down the hall in the library, under Mr. Kim’s supervision. I thought it best if we spoke without the children first.”

The dark-haired man hums. “What happened, Principal? You were rather vague on the phone.”

Pam nods, and you exchange looks before she turns her attention back to Jungkook. “Yes, well, as I explained on the phone, there was an incident. Daeun forcefully took her classmate’s book during the free reading period, and refused to return it when asked.”

At that, Jungkook casts you another glance. “I see. And I presume the classmate was Miss {L/N}’s daughter?”

“It was,” you confirm, taking care to keep your tone even despite the irritation simmering in your belly. “This is the second time Trixie’s been targeted by your daughter, Mr. Jeon. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his lips twisting into a displeased frown. “I'm not sure I like what you’re implying, Miss {L/N}.”

The iciness in his voice is unmistakable, but you have fifteen minutes’ worth of annoyance festering in your belly—annoyance that has amplified with every second that he made you wait. That, combined with his behavior last semester is enough to stir that annoyance into full-blown anger. He’s been short with you every time you’ve called to talk about his daughter’s progress in class, and you very nearly canceled his eight o’clock appointment to meet with you during December’s parent-teacher conferences. You remember pulling up his contact information nineteen minutes after eight, thumb hovering over the call button on your phone when he finally burst into your classroom. No preamble, and no apology. He just sat down, as if nothing was amiss, and began asking about Daeun’s grades in math.

It’s no wonder you’ve never heard so much as a word about a Mrs. Jeon. The nosy part of your brain wonders about Jungkook’s home life on occasion, and the more vindictive part relishes in the fact that he’s no doubt a single parent. Any woman would have to be a saint to put up with Jungkook Jeon, you reason, because as far as you’re concerned, he’s the devil.

The devil dressed in head-to-toe Armani, who is currently fixing you with a look that could temper steel.

“Mr. Jeon.” Pam, as always, is quick to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled over her office. “No one is implying anything here. We just want to have a frank, civil discussion about Daeun’s behavior, and see if you can think of anything that may be causing her to act out. A recent change in her life, perhaps? Something new that she hasn’t quite adjusted to yet?”

You take a deep breath, releasing it through your nose before putting your professional mask back on. “Her shift in behavior was extremely sudden,” you chime in, watching out of the corner of your eye as Pam inclines her head in agreement. “Laughing when Trixie and another classmate slipped and fell on the ice, and now this? I don’t believe for a minute that this change came out of nowhere—something must have caused it. Daeun is a smart girl, Mr. Jeon. She’s outgoing and a little rambunctious, but she’s always been kind to her classmates in the past. Today’s behavior was incredibly out of character for her.”

A beat of silence passes, as your words fade into silence. Then Jungkook shifts in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he turns his full attention to you. “We keep talking about Daeun as if she was the only child involved in this incident, Miss {L/N}. Why don’t we talk about your daughter instead? Trixie, is it?”

And just like that, your mask begins to splinter at the edges. “Trixie was reading quietly at the table when Daeun approached her,” you reply coolly. “She didn’t instigate anything, Mr. Jeon.”

“Oh, and I’m supposed to take your word for it?” Jungkook huffs out a humorless chuckle, leaning back in his seat. “I think you, of all people, might be a little bit biased.”

Fury flares in your belly, hot and bright. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon,” you manage between clenched teeth. “I care about all of my students equally, and treat them as such. But I don’t expect you to understand that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but your boss stops him before he can utter a single syllable. “I think that’s enough for today,” Pam says, rising to her feet and stepping around her desk to shake Jungkook’s hand. Even in heels, she only comes up to his chest, and you would have laughed at the height disparity if it weren’t for the rage still bubbling through your veins. “Like I said before, the girls are just down the hall with Mr. Kim. If you’ll follow me…”

Pam ushers Jungkook out of the office, chattering mindlessly about the cafeteria renovations that are underway—funded in large part by Jungkook himself, you’re certain. As much as you’ve grown to dislike the man, you know that he cares deeply about education and donates a rather large sum to your school every year. Trailing after them by a few paces, you listen as Pam points out a row of plaques hanging on the wall, honoring distinguished students and teachers alike.

The library, when you reach it, is empty save for three figures seated at one of several rectangular tables that occupy the middle of the room. Taehyung Kim, the copper-haired librarian, springs out of his seat upon your arrival, and you wave tiredly as he approaches with a warm, affable grin.

“Welcome!” Taehyung says, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses before extending a hand for Jungkook to shake. “You must be Daeun’s dad. I’m Taehyung Kim, the librarian here at Hybe.”

“Jungkook Jeon.” Then Jungkook’s gaze flits past him to where the two children are seated opposite one another. Daeun is a slender, petite girl with dark hair braided neatly down her back and round, brown eyes that are narrowed in concentration as she colors in a picture of a lion. Quietly, Jungkook strides over to his daughter, kneeling down beside her chair until he’s eye-level. “Hey, Daeun,” you hear him murmur. “What happened today, hmm?”

You, meanwhile, join your own daughter at the table, sitting down in the chair Taehyung abandoned and taking in the paper and coloring utensils scattered across the surface “Hey, jitterbug,” you murmur. “Were you nice to Mr. Kim while I was gone?”

“Tae read us a book about butterflies,” Trixie replies, shrugging her little shoulders. “He taught us about migration.”

You chuckle. “Migration, huh? That sounds interesting. You want to tell me all about it on the drive home?”

Trixie nods, her pigtails bobbing in time with the movement. Then she glances over to where Jungkook is instructing Daeun to pack up her backpack, tucking books and notebooks neatly inside while Daeun collects her crayons and puts them into a sparkly little pink case. “Are we going home now?”

“Soon, bug,” you promise. “I just have to finish up with Mr. Jeon and Principal Baker, okay?”

“Okay,” Trixie says agreeably, returning to her drawing. Pam gestures for you to join her and Jungkook near the library doors, and you meet Taehyung’s gaze as you brush past where he’s pulling a few books down for a display. Good luck, he mouths, and you suppress the urge to make a face. Instead, you mouth a quick thanks back, offering Daeun a quick smile as well before joining her father and your boss at the door.

“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, casting a surreptitious glance toward Daeun and Trixie before lowering her voice. “I don’t think you should ignore this behavior from your daughter. If there’s something in her home life that is making her act out, I can recommend a few counselors who would be more than happy to speak with the two of y—”

Jungkook shakes his head, a lock of dark hair coming loose from whatever gel he’s used to style it. “With all due respect, Principal Baker, I don’t appreciate my parenting abilities being called into question. I think it’s probably best if Daeun and I take our leave.”

Pam sighs. “Mr. Jeon, I don’t mean to offend. But Daeun did take a book out of Trixie’s hands.”

“And I’ll be sure to discipline her for that,” Jungkook replies. “But if this is all over a book, Principal, I think the solution is simple. I can easily buy her whatever book she needs.”

“I’m not so sure it’s about the book itself,” you point out. “Tae—I mean, Mr. Kim—has multiple copies of Charlotte’s Web available for the students.”

Jungkook hums and turns up the collar of his wool coat, pulling it snug around his throat. “Nonetheless, I think we’re done here. Daeun, we’re leaving.”

The six-year-old looks up from the book Taehyung has checked out for her and immediately runs over to grab her father’s extended hand. “Are we going home?” she asks quietly, and he nods.

“Yeah, we are, sweetheart. Come on. Say bye to your teachers.”

Obediently, Daeun waves to you and Taehyung before bidding Pam goodbye as well. Jungkook offers you a stiff nod, and Pam resignedly offers to walk the duo out. They depart together, and you watch as they disappear around the corner of the hall before turning to Taehyung with a heavy sigh. Trixie is still engrossed in her coloring, and you lower your voice as you join Taehyung where he’s begun re-shelving books from a cart of returns.

“Thank god that’s finally over,” you murmur.

Taehyung glances both ways, ensuring the coast is clear. “Yeah. That Jungkook guy is a total wang.”

///

By the time you pull out of Hybe Academy’s parking lot, rush hour has well and truly begun. Silently, you curse Jungkook’s tardiness as you merge onto the main road and almost immediately come to a complete standstill amongst the traffic. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, you take in the sight of your daughter, buckled neatly into the backseat with her face pressed against the window.

“What color are we looking for today, bug?”

“Red,” she replies, her nose scrunching against the glass. Every day, your daughter picks a color and counts the number of cars she sees in that particular shade. She’s taken to keeping a running tally on the refrigerator—working toward the answer to a research question that only she understands. Her work is accompanied by a variety of figures and diagrams as well, which she’s plastered across the remainder of the refrigerator door and are slowly encroaching on the freezer door as well. You’re pretty sure she’ll need a larger surface soon enough—the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms would probably suffice—but until then, you have no plans to interfere with her creativity. If anything, you sometimes wish you could see the world through a child’s eyes again—to view every new experience as an adventure, and delight in the simple things. It’s one of the many reasons you love working at Hybe, even if you do have to deal with the occasional entitled parent.

Unwillingly, your mind wanders back to Jungkook Jeon. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, even if you’re reluctant to admit it and refuse outright to say it aloud. He’s blessed with the kind of face that angels could rhapsodize about—his dark, expressive eyes set above a strong nose and an enticing mouth. His jawline is sharp as a knife, and you’re fairly certain the devil himself sculpted his thighs. Even beneath the drape of his expensive suits, you can see the definition of his musculature as clearly as if he wasn’t wearing anything at all. You wonder—more often than you’d like to admit—how his workplace hasn’t deemed his suits obscene. Maybe he needs a dress code, you think to yourself, easing off the brake as the cars in front of you begin to inch forward. Baggy clothes only from this point forward. The more skin covered, the better.

“Oooh! Found one!” Trixie exclaims, tapping the glass vigorously. “And look, there’s another. It’s a darker red, though.”

You hum and nod toward the traffic up ahead, where you can glimpse the corner of a cherry red bumper. “What about that one up there? That makes three, right?”

In the mirror, you see your daughter nod. A few minutes pass, the two of you calling out when another red car is spotted, and traffic eventually eases up enough that you can continue your way home.

“So, what did Mr. Kim teach you about butterflies?” you query as you make a right turn. “Something about migration?”

Trixie nods absently, still fixated on the cars driving by in the opposite lane. “Yeah. They go south for the winter to stay warm.”

You glance at her reflection in the mirror again. “Must be nice.”

“Yeah.”

Up ahead, the light turns green. You hit the gas, debating whether to bring up Daeun or not, but your daughter speaks again before you can dwell on it any further.

“It’s weird,” Trixie says, her face still pressed against the window and her breath misting the glass. “Daeun was never mean to me before. We weren’t friends, not really. But now it feels like she’s picking on me on purpose and I don’t know why.”

Something in your chest splinters at the tone of her voice—subdued and small. She’s dragging a finger through the fogged up glass now, tracing the crooked outline of a butterfly, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking again.

“We’ll figure it out together, then, jitterbug. Now, why don’t you start thinking about what you want for dinner?”

///

Mornings are always a little chaotic in your home. Trixie is sprinting around the entirety of the two-bedroom apartment looking for her favorite scrunchie, a half-eaten piece of toast clutched in one hand and her backpack swinging from the other. In the kitchen, you’re going through a mental checklist of all the places your daughter could have possibly left the accessory while sipping on your morning coffee. The mug nearly slips from your hand when your pet cat, Taco, slinks past your legs on her way to her food bowl, and you hiss out a sharp curse.

“Fuck!” Hot liquid dribbles down your knuckles. The calico cat gives you an unimpressed look, and you glance both ways to make sure Trixie is out of earshot before wagging a reprimanding finger. “Manners, Taco. You’re better than this.”

Taco merely flicks her tail and turns back to her own breakfast, rebelliously batting her water bowl with a paw before settling down to eat. Sighing, you finish the remainder of your coffee and rinse out the mug, listening as Trixie darts in and begins rummaging through the silverware drawer.

“Bug, I don’t think your scrunchie’s in there,” you remark, earning yourself a shrug in response.

“Can’t be too careful,” she says in a startlingly accurate impression of you, and you can’t decide whether to laugh out loud or roll your eyes. Coming up empty, your daughter runs off again, and you return your attention to your bag, rifling through the folders and assignments within. “Aha!” you hear in the distance, and smile. Trixie comes bounding down the hall a few seconds later with a sparkly holographic scrunchie in hand, and you obligingly help her wind it around her ponytail as she wriggles in place with excitement.

“Ready to go?” you ask once finished, and she nods eagerly. “Have all your homework?” Another nod. “What about those books you have to return to Mr. Kim at the library?”

Trixie heaves a dramatic sigh and fixes you with a look. “Yes, Mom. Can we go now?”

You chuckle and extend your hand for her to take, heaving your bag onto your opposite shoulder. “All right, all right. Let’s go.”

Locking the front door, you and Trixie take the elevator down to the ground floor of the building and exit out into the wintry air. Your car is parked on a nearby side street, and immediately, you see that the windshield is coated in a light layer of frost. Sighing inwardly, you head toward the trunk where you store the ice scraper. Trixie releases your hand when you pop open the lid, and you turn to watch as she skips her way down the sidewalk. “Sure you don’t want a ride to school?” you call.

She stops, her nose wrinkling. “It’s lame to go to school with your teacher, Mom.”

You feign offense, slapping a hand to your heart. “Oh? I’m lame now, am I?”

“Don’t take it personal,” Trixie replies, shrugging. “All adults are kinda lame.”

With that, she waves and darts the rest of the way down the sidewalk, making her way to the bus stop at the end of the block. You watch her go, waiting until she safely joins the other half-dozen kids clustered on the corner beside the stop sign, before turning back to your car and climbing into the driver’s seat.

There’s something calming about your morning commute—something about the low hum of the engine and the whir of wheels against asphalt that soothes your soul. The route downtown is a familiar one, and you navigate it with ease. A glance at the clock on the dashboard tells you that you have just enough time to grab some breakfast, and at the next intersection, you opt to turn left instead of right. Three minutes later, you’re pulling up to your favorite coffee shop in the city, snagging one of the few remaining parking spaces on the street and braving the chill one more time as you head for the brightly painted front door beneath the cheery sign that reads, Bean There, Done That!.

The smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla washes over you as soon as you step inside the coffee shop. There’s a relatively short line, and you pull out your phone as you join it, scrolling through news articles and notifications until you reach the counter. “Good morning, Bonnie,” you greet the middle-aged woman working the cash register, before waving at the man who’s already brewing a fresh espresso in the corner. “Morning, Jin.”

“Hiya, {Name},” Jin replies. As the owner of the shop and a dear friend of yours, he knows your usual order like the back of his hand. “Got your coffee going right now.”

Bonnie smiles at you, nodding as Jin plops your finished drink down and joins her at the counter. “Morning, hun. You’re too late again, I’m afraid. Can I get you something else?”

You glance over at the glass display case where all the baked goods are housed, disappointment sinking into your stomach when you see the empty row in the bagel section. “No cinnamon streusel? Again?”

“Some guy beat you to the last one,” Jin answers as Bonnie rings up your coffee and slides it across the counter into your waiting hands. “Same one as last week, actually. He comes here pretty regularly.”

Your eyes narrow. “You mean the same jerk has taken my bagel three times now? How is it that I haven’t run into him yet?”

“I dunno—dude’s an early riser, I guess. You missed him by about ten minutes this time, but sometimes he’s in here even earlier than that.” Jin shrugs and jabs a thumb toward the back where you can just barely see the kitchen through a small window. “We’ve got more bagels going right now though, if you can wait five minutes.”

The time on your phone’s screen tells you that you cannot. “Sorry,” you tell him. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for school.” Turning, you nod at Bonnie and drop a few bills into the tip jar. “See you both tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Jin pats down his apron pockets and fishes out a crumpled napkin from within. “I almost forgot. The guy—he left a note.”

“He left… what?” You frown. “Why?”

Awkwardly, Jin clears his throat. “I, uh, may have let it slip that he kept beating you to the last cinnamon streusel bagel on Friday. And then he asked if he could leave you a note, so….” Uncrumpling the napkin, he extends it toward you. “Here.”

You can’t help it—curiosity roots in your belly and winds its way to your fingers as you carefully accept the note and smooth it out on the countertop.

Better luck next time ;)

“That prick.”

Jin winces. “Yeah, I know. I mean, he does always leave a twenty in the tip jar, but yeah, totally. I’m with you. Guy’s a wang.”

You’re barely listening. Scowling, you fumble for the pen in your purse, taking the napkin that Bonnie wordlessly hands you and scribbling out your own note so fiercely you nearly rip through the papery material.

Game on, mister.

///

The rest of the week seems to drag by, until Friday arrives at long last and shepherds with it stormy gray clouds on the horizon. You’re already feeling rather grumpy—no doubt thanks in part to the collection of snarky napkin notes you’ve accumulated over the past few days—and the sun’s absence only serves to exacerbate your foul mood. Even worse, you had an unfortunate run-in with one Mr. Jungkook Jeon yesterday, meeting with him in the principal’s office following an incident where Daeun took and hid Trixie’s favorite holographic scrunchie. Thankfully, it was recovered quickly, but even now the mere thought of Jungkook Jeon’s stupid, condescending face is enough to tank your mood. Scowling, you lock your car and head in the direction of Bean There, Done That!, carefully eyeing every person who exits in an effort to discern whether they might have purchased a cinnamon streusel bagel and hoping that none of them have snagged the last.

You’re running a full forty-five minutes early today—all in an attempt to beat the damned bagel thief. Half an hour hadn’t been enough—you found that out the hard way yesterday, when Bonnie had greeted you with an apologetic smile and Jin had wordlessly doubled the usual shot of espresso in your coffee without charge. Looking back, your initial attempts to be a mere fifteen minutes earlier were feeble at worst and laughable at best. But today, you think, today will be different.

The bell over the door jingles pleasantly when you step inside the coffee shop, and you immediately deflate when Jin catches your eye and shakes his head. He’s there to greet you when you finally reach the front of the line, and you sigh as you accept the folded napkin he hands over. “He beat me? Again? Does this guy not sleep?”

“He was super early today,” Jin replies with a shrug. Groaning, you unfold the note and smooth it out on the counter, sucking in a breath when you read the words scrawled there.

What’s that saying again? Something about the early bird always getting the worm? ;)

“That fucking asshole,” you grit out. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Testy,” Jin says, clicking his tongue. “What’s got your panties in a bunch today?”

You sigh. “School stuff, mostly. I had to meet with the father of one of my students yesterday, and he’s a real piece of work. And then I was up late grading homework.”

“You could always assign less,” Jin offers up unhelpfully, which earns him a snort and an eye-roll from you. Relenting, he instead begins pouring your coffee, chattering on as the hot liquid splashes into your cup. “So, about this guy’s impending doom. How exactly do you plan on murdering a man when you don’t even know what he looks like?”

“Stop being logical,” you groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to hear it.”

Just then, the coffee shop door flies open, letting in a gust of chilly wind. You turn to see Bonnie bustling inside, wearing a bright pink woolen hat and ushering along her eleven-year old son, Caleb. “Hi, hun,” she greets you, her nose scrunching when she sees your frown. “I take it you still haven’t found your mystery bagel man?”

You heave a sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t think I can get DNA off of his notes, so no. I have no idea who this guy is, which means I have no way of tracking him down and giving him a piece of my mind.”

Bonnie tuts sympathetically and pats your arm. “Sorry, hun.” Giving your elbow an affectionate squeeze, she slips past the counter and into the back room to grab her paycheck. Jin finishes up with your drink, and you thank him as you take a long sip. Then you turn to Bonnie’s son, who’s taken a seat in a nearby booth and is doodling on a piece of scrap paper.

“Hey, Caleb. How’s it going?”

The boy, normally quite talkative, just shrugs. Taken aback, you decide not to press the issue and instead turn back to Jin, who’s wiping down the espresso machine and whistling something that sounds vaguely like “Never Gonna Give You Up” under his breath. Bonnie returns then, and you give her a quizzical glance as she pours herself a to-go cup of coffee and adds two generous pumps of caramel syrup. Is something up with Caleb? you mouth, and watch as confusion flits across her face before realization dawns.

“Don’t worry about him,” she whispers, approaching you so you can hear. “He’s just a little bummed from yesterday. Misspelled ‘serendipity’ in the school spelling bee, and it cost him the win in the end.”

You wince. “Ouch. That hurts.”

“Yeah, that sucks real hard,” Jin chimes in from his spot at the espresso machine. “Little guy didn’t even try to steal a cookie from the display like he normally does.”

Bonnie chuckles. “I’ll grab a couple to-go, then—a double chocolate and a snickerdoodle, if you please. But then we’ve really got to head out. School starts in twenty.”

At the reminder, you pull out your phone and glance at the time. “Yeah, I need to leave soon too. Give my best to Caleb, okay? There’s always next year’s spelling bee.” Turning to Jin, you hand over your credit card to pay for the coffee before grabbing a pen and a napkin. It takes you a few seconds to figure out what you want to write, and then another few to scrawl out the note:

Don’t forget, the tortoise always beats the hare in the end.

Straightening up, you hand the napkin over to Jin, who accepts it wordlessly and tucks it into his pocket. And once he’s handed your card back to you, you wave goodbye to both Jin and Bonnie before heading out.

It’s typically a five-minute drive to Hybe Academy from the coffee shop, but this morning, it takes you almost ten. Every red light in the city has seemingly teamed up in order to make you late, and you make it through the door of your classroom with mere minutes to spare. Thankfully, the first bell hasn’t rung yet, and to your surprise, Taehyung is still lounging in your desk chair when you enter the room. The two of you have a longstanding tradition of having breakfast together in the mornings—even if breakfast just turns out to be two extra-large cups of coffee with anywhere between zero and four shots of espresso added in. Taehyung occasionally brings in some of his kitchen experiments as well, and you’ve had to politely decline his offer to share on more than one occasion.

“Hey, there you are!” Taehyung grins and props his feet up onto your desk, crossing one leg over the other. “I was just about to leave.”

“Really? It looks like you’ve made yourself pretty comfortable,” you reply, dropping your bag onto the floor and collapsing into the chair he’s pulled up beside him. “Must be nice, not having to worry about being on time for first period.”

Taehyung nestles deeper into the back of your chair and lets his eyes drift shut. “Sure is.”

You snort and take a sip of your coffee. “Jerk.”

“I’m rubber, you’re glue,” he replies without missing a beat, his eyes remaining staunchly shut.

Shaking your head, you instead direct your attention to the tupperware container that’s sitting on the desk in front of your friend. You can see what looks like some kind of pastry inside, and prod curiously at it before poking Taehyung in the shoulder. “So, what’s this? Don’t tell me you tried to make croque monsieurs again.”

“Excuse you, those weren’t even that bad,” he defends, his eyes flying open. “And no, I didn’t. I made quiche this time.”

“Right,” you say suspiciously. “And what’s in it?”

“Bacon, cheese, onions,” Taehyung lists with a shrug. “Oh, and a few baby carrots I had on hand. I didn’t really know what else to do with them.”

It’s far from the strangest combination your friend has come up with—a sentiment you voice aloud as you pry open the edge of the container and accept the fork he hands over. “This feels shockingly normal.” Cautiously, you dig into an edge and bring it to eye level so you can examine the filling. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

“I’m going to start force feeding you if you don’t stop teasing,” Taehyung threatens, grabbing a fork for himself and helping himself to a generous bite. “Seriously, give it a try—I promise it’s good. I didn’t even drop any eggshells in it this time.”

Laughing, you bring the quiche to your mouth. The pastry is flaky and the filling is smooth, and you’re pleasantly surprised by the harmonious balance of seasonings that you taste. Taehyung watches in satisfaction as you go in for a bigger piece, and pushes the tupperware closer when you nearly drop it.

“Told you it was good,” he says smugly, and you can only nod your agreement and raise your coffee in silent commendation.

The two of you eat in silence for a few moments—until you remember the napkin shoved in your pocket and pull it out with a grimace. You’ve ranted to Taehyung about your new nemesis on more than one occasion by this point, and he doesn’t even blink as he flattens out the material and scans the words scrawled there. “I’ve gotta say, the guy’s got good handwriting,” he remarks, and you immediately fix him with a scowl.

“Really? You’ve got to say that?”

Taehyung holds up his hands innocently. “Just an observation,” he says. “How many of these notes do you even have now? Three?”

“Five,” you grumble. “And I’m still no closer to figuring out who he is. I don’t suppose you have access to a police database or anything, right? Some way to match this guy’s handwriting?”

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that,” is Taehyung’s blasé reply. “Besides, it’s not like you’re going to do anything, even if you do figure out who he is. You’ll just keep stewing until something else comes along, so why even bother with the manhunt in the first place?”

You sniff. “I’m raising Trixie to be a strong, determined woman who can accomplish anything she sets her mind to. What kind of example would I be setting if I can’t do this one thing?”

Taehyung doesn’t even bother trying to disguise his snort of laughter. “You’re so full of shit. Jesus Christ.”

The bell rings, then—signaling that students have five minutes to make their way to their classrooms. You sigh, and Taehyung wordlessly stands up and begins gathering his tupperware back into his bag, tucking the cutlery in last and grabbing his remaining coffee as he turns toward the door.

“Catch you later,” he says at the threshold, and you wave him off before brushing a few stray crumbs off your desk. Finishing off the last of your coffee, you pull your planner from your bag and absentmindedly shove the napkin note in its place—putting away any and all thoughts of your bagel nemesis as students slowly begin filtering into your classroom. Trixie briefly catches your eye as she files in with a couple of her friends, and you smile as you rise from your seat and begin outlining the day’s lesson plan on the chalkboard.

There’s no doubt that Fridays are your favorite. Friday afternoons at Hybe Academy are dedicated to the arts, and listening to the soft strains of music coming from the orchestra room and the various solo instruments taking lessons brings you boundless joy. You love seeing the new paintings on the walls the following Monday too, and often stay a while after school lets out on Friday to hang up the pieces produced by your own class.

But this particular Friday—it isn’t going as planned at all.

You’re beginning to think that this morning’s strike from your bagel thief was an omen. Up until two hours ago, it’s just been the usual inconveniences and minor drawbacks—a misplaced pencil here, or a spilled bit of juice there. But now, halfway through the schoolday, you feel like you’re drowning. Your stomach is growling and your hair is in disarray, and it’s all thanks to the fact that you currently have twice the amount of students you normally do occupying your classroom—all of whom are seemingly intent on covering every available surface with splatters of paint.

You can’t blame Miss Kumar, of course. Family emergencies are just that—emergencies. They can’t be predicted or controlled, and when she was called at lunchtime with unexpected news, you understood that she had to leave immediately. In an unfortunate turn of events, none of the Academy’s usual substitute teachers were available, and you soon found yourself haplessly watching on as her first-graders filed into your room with chairs in tow, taking up residence two to a desk alongside your own students.

And even though you’re doing your absolute best to maintain some semblance of order, you know you’ve lost when one of Miss Kumar’s students—Nicholas, you think his name is—upends a little plastic canister of paint onto his desk and splats both hands into it. Blue paint goes flying in every direction, and as he giggles, the other children quickly begin to follow his lead.

“Guys, no, wait—” you try to say, but it’s too late. A fully fledged paint fight has broken out, and you watch in horror as Daeun flings a dollop of yellow paint straight onto Trixie’s Hercules shirt.

If there’s a bright spot in all of this, it’s that Principal Pam Baker works fast. You’d called her mere minutes into the fight breaking out, and she’d done her part by calling the parents of the students you’d named as instigators of the fight. Those who could came in right away, and once you managed to settle everyone down, you brought their kids down to Pam’s office so that she could have a group meeting with both the parents and students alike. The remaining children you took to the library to be watched by Taehyung while you cleaned up your classroom. It’s an absolute disaster zone, and you’ve only just begun spraying down the first desk when the door flies open.

“Most of the children are at the library,” you say without turning around, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of red paint on the corner of the desk with a wet wipe. “If you’re looking for your child, you’d best head over there.”

“Actually, I’m here to speak to you,” a familiar voice says, and dread pools in your stomach as you turn and find yourself face-to-face with none other than Jungkook Jeon, his dark eyes unreadable. On his wrist, just barely concealed beneath the sleeve of his charcoal overcoat, you can see his expensive silver watch glinting in the fluorescent light.

“Mr. Jeon,” you manage once you’ve found your voice again. “How can I help you?”

For a few long seconds, Jungkook remains silent. He steps over the threshold and into your classroom, taking in the paint-splattered walls and the chairs scattered haphazardly about. Then his gaze settles on you, his nose wrinkling slightly as he speaks again.

“It smells in here.”

“It’s the paint,” you answer shortly, stepping over an upended cup of brushes and making your way to the window. Fumbling with the lock, you struggle for a few seconds before finally managing to heave it open, letting in a welcome gust of cool wintry air.

Jungkook watches all of this in silence. Then he hums, faint amusement lacing his voice. “I see that.”

Irritation blooms in your belly at his blasé tone. “What did you want to talk about, Mr. Jeon? If you’re looking for Daeun, I’m afraid she’s down the hall in Principal Baker’s office.”

“I’m well aware of that.” Jungkook takes a step forward, the heels of his sleek black oxfords clicking against the tiled floor. “This is the second time you’ve lost control of your classroom, I believe. And tell me, Miss {L/N}, why has my daughter been sent to the principal’s office two days in a row, now?”

You glance up from where you’ve begun wiping at a spot of hot pink paint on the windowsill. “With all due respect, Mr. Jeon, I think that’s a question that only Daeun can answer.”

“Daeun.” There’s outright laughter in Jungkook’s voice now—but it’s the humorless sort that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. “Right, of course. The blame is always on my daughter, isn’t it? Never any of the others. Never your own.”

For a moment, you can only stare at him. Then, without even fully realizing what you’re doing, you begin walking forward. First one step, and then another—until the tips of your sensible block heels are mere inches from the tips of his oxfords. Emotion is building steadily in your chest—a cocktail of exhaustion and anger topped off with the day’s frustrations—and all of it comes flooding out as you raise your chin and look Jungkook Jeon square in the eye.

“Unlike you, I saw what happened today, Mr. Jeon. Several students were responsible for instigating and perpetuating this fight, and unfortunately, Daeun was one of them. I don’t appreciate you implying that I favor any of my students over others, and I certainly don’t appreciate you questioning my ability as a teacher.” Your chest heaves as you pause to take a breath. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon. Maybe you don’t think so, but I am. I’ve been teaching for nearly a decade, and I’ve spent almost every day with these children for the past year. You don’t get to come in here and disrespect me in my own classroom. I don’t care how much money you give to this school. I’m not beholden to you or your money, and I’ll thank you to not come in here with unnecessary attitude and finger-pointing.”

Your blood is rushing in your ears by the time your speech comes to an end. Jungkook is silent, staring down his nose at you for three long seconds before he deliberately raises a dark eyebrow. “Are you finished?” he asks.

You shiver as his hot breath fans against your cheeks. “No.” And then, in a surge of stupid, adrenaline-fueled bravery, you add, “I kind of want to cuss you out, to be honest.”

The other eyebrow rises to join the first, as a huff of wry laughter escapes his lips. “Oh?”

You deflate slightly, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. It shouldn’t be so easy for a parent to get a rise out of you, but Jungkook seems to do it so easily—and so often. “I’m not going to,” you murmur.

“No?” Jungkook’s gaze darts down to your lips, then up to your eyes, and then down to your lips again. “That’s rather disappointing.”

Unwittingly, you’ve drifted even closer to him since you first started talking. You can see each fleck of amber in his irises, and could probably count each of his individual eyelashes if you so cared. This close to him, you can see that one of his eyebrows is pierced—his dark hair brushed back just enough to reveal the silvery metal embedded in his skin. You don’t pull away though, and neither does he. If anything, he seems to be willing you closer—his lips parting and his tongue darting out to moisten them.

And then he blinks, and you pull back as if burned. “If… if that’s all, I should really get back to cleaning up,” you stammer, hating the wobble in your voice as you return to your desk and grab a fresh wet wipe. “Principal Baker’s office is down the hall on the left.”

“I remember. I was there yesterday, after all.” The faint amusement has returned to his tone. Straightening his tie, he begins making his way to the exit, only to pause in the doorframe and glance at you once more over his shoulder. “Oh, and Miss {L/N}?”

You look up. “Yes?”

“You should really look in a mirror. It looks like a Smurf exploded on your face.”

///

Saturday brings with it clear blue skies and a sweet, sweet reprieve from the chaos of the week. You’d promised Trixie that you would make ratatouille together over the weekend—just like in the movie—and now you’re making good on that promise as you push a shopping cart around the grocery store with your daughter skipping happily by your side. “Ooh! We need these, right?” she exclaims, pointing at a display of zucchini, and you nod, watching as she carefully selects two and plunks them into the cart.

Together, the two of you finish up in the produce section and head for the aisles that house all the baking goods. Trixie peruses the shelves as you stock up on the essentials—flour, sugar, and a couple boxes of baking soda. Then you grab a package of chocolate chips, laughing when Trixie immediately perks up at the sound of the bag crinkling and whirls around to look at you with wide, eager eyes.

“Can we do chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies?” she asks, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

“I think you’re pushing your luck, young lady,” you tell her, but relent when she selflessly offers to bring the extras to class on Monday to share.

Ten minutes later, you’re heading toward the checkout line when you suddenly realize that you’ve forgotten something. “Tomatoes,” you say aloud, glancing down at Trixie apologetically. “Totally slipped my mind. Let’s go grab some, bug.”

Trixie sighs dramatically, but turns toward the produce section nonetheless. Faster than you can blink, she trots off, leaving you to trail after her with the shopping cart. Maneuvering around a particularly tall display of onions, you pull out your phone to check the grocery list one more time—only to be interrupted by the metallic clang of your shopping cart hitting another. Immediately, you open your mouth to apologize, but stop short when your eyes meet the owner of the other cart.

“O-oh,” you stammer, your head spinning as you try to recover your full vocabulary. “Mr. Jeon. I… I didn’t see you there.”

Jungkook chuckles. “That much I gathered.” Then he nods toward Trixie, who you can just barely see two aisles and a crate of watermelons away. “Doing some shopping, Miss {L/N}?”

You don’t respond. Your brain is in overdrive, struggling to reconcile the Jungkook standing in front of you with the one you’d seen just yesterday in your paint-splattered classroom. His dark hair isn’t parted neatly across his forehead for once—instead, it falls in soft waves around his face. Rather reluctantly, your brain acknowledges that he looks good—irritatingly so. You’ve never seen him in casual clothes before—only neatly pressed suits that cost more than your entire paycheck—and the change is jarring to say the least. His purple sweatshirt is baggy and his black joggers are just tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs, and—

—hang on, is he wearing Birkenstocks?

Trixie, thankfully, comes to the rescue as you gape at Jungkook’s feet for several seconds too long. “Is this enough?” she asks, lugging a plastic bag bulging with at least a dozen heirloom tomatoes. Still a little shellshocked, you look down at her, blinking dumbly before bursting into laughter.

“That’s plenty, bug. In fact, we probably need to put some back, unless you want tomatoes in your cookies too.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Trixie says thoughtfully, pursing her lips. “Or we can make marinara and have spaghetti and meatballs tomorrow!”

Jungkook chooses that moment to huff out a laugh of his own. “Spaghetti and meatballs, huh? Great minds must think alike—Daeun suggested the exact same thing for our dinner tonight. Only thing is, we’re apparently making everything by hand, even the spaghetti. And we’ve never made pasta before, so…” He chuckles. “You can imagine how well that’ll probably go.”

You glance around the nearest visible aisles. “Daeun’s a proper little chef, I see. Is she here with you?”

The dark-haired man gestures toward the back of the grocery store. “I tasked her with grabbing some milk and eggs while I get the onions. She won’t go near them until they’re cooked, so I figured this would be most efficient.”

You grin. “Divide and conquer, huh?”

“Exactly,” Jungkook answers with a surprisingly boyish smile. You note with amusement that his front teeth are more prominent than the rest, just enough to give him the resemblance of a rabbit. Rather unfairly, it somehow manages to work in his favor when put together with the rest of him. Your cheeks warm when you register again just how handsome he truly is, and you quickly suck in a deep breath as you search around for a distraction.

You’re in luck. Daeun rounds the corner of a nearby display of cantaloupes with a wide grin, a gallon jug of milk and a carton of eggs in either hand. Her grin widens when she spots you, and you chuckle as she tries and fails to raise her jug-bearing hand to wave.

“Hi, Miss {L/N}!” she exclaims as she comes to a stop alongside Jungkook’s cart and deposits her goods inside. “What’re you doing here?”

“Dae,” Jungkook chides gently, but you laugh and wave him off.

“Hi, Daeun. I’m doing some shopping with Trixie, just like you are with your dad. Speaking of which—you probably have a lot of cooking to get to.” You return your attention to Jungkook. “I mean, I know we do. Somehow, I was talked into making two types of cookies this weekend, so we should really head out and get started.”

“Wait—hang on a second.” Jungkook speaks again, and maybe it’s your imagination but you think you hear a tinge of desperation in his tone. “I’m actually glad we ran into you today. We were going to do this on Monday but since you’re both here, Daeun has something she’d like to say to Trixie. Isn’t that right, Dae?”

Daeun’s gaze drops to where she’s scuffing her sneakered feet against the tiled linoleum floor. Jungkook reaches down, giving her an encouraging nudge, and she hesitates for a second before looking back up and glancing between you and Trixie. “I’m sorry,” she begins shyly. “I shouldn’t’ve thrown paint at you. Or taken your book.” And when Jungkook nudges her again and lifts an eyebrow, she continues again. “And… I’m sorry for laughing when you fell down on the playground. It wasn’t funny, and I wasn’t being nice. I’m really sorry, Trixie.”

There’s a beat of silence, as Daeun falls silent and looks at your daughter hopefully. You glance between the two girls, then up at Jungkook, who still has a hand on Daeun’s shoulder and seems to be holding his breath. Trixie, for her part, looks to be deep in thought, her face scrunched in contemplation as she taps a finger against her lips. Vaguely, you wonder if you should say something, but decide against it.

And then Trixie beams, toothy and bright. Daeun’s answering smile is still tentative, but it transforms into full-blown giggles when your daughter rushes forward and clasps one of her hands in both of her own. “I forgive you,” she says shortly, giving her hand a shake like a little businesswoman. You and Jungkook watch on as the two girls proceed to skip off, hand-in-hand and singing “Baby Shark”.

“Wow,” you remark, turning back to Jungkook. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. What brought that on?”

Jungkook begins to look rather sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck. “I actually have a bit of a confession to make. Not to mention, I owe you a huge apology. I talked to Dae last night, and… well, you were right. She wasn’t acting out for no reason. She… she was actually jealous of Trixie."

You frown. "What?"

He nods. "Yeah. See, I got promoted at my job a while ago. Right after the holidays, I had to start working longer hours, which of course meant less time at home with her. And I guess all of that took its toll, especially since I had to stop taking her to school every morning.” He sighs. “She didn’t adjust very well to that. I tried my best to make things work, but there’s only so much I can do, you know? Eventually I had to set up a morning carpool with some of the neighbors. And I tried to ease the transition as much as I could, but…” He trails off with another sigh. “Guess I did kind of a shit job there.”

Your mind is reeling at all of this new information, but you manage to find your voice again after a few moments. “You did your best,” you tell him, resisting the sudden urge to reach out and touch his arm. “And you’re still trying. That’s all that matters, you know. You’re trying to make things better. Daeun can sense that, and believe me, it’s paying off.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I think you’re giving me too much credit, but thank you. I’m just glad that Dae has a good school and good teachers. Actually, you’ve always been her favorite, did you know that?”

You didn’t. “Really?”

“Really.”

You aren’t sure what to say after that, so you opt to look around instead. At some point—you aren’t sure when—the two of you must’ve started walking around the grocery store again because all around you are shelves full of bread and baked goods. Mindlessly, you grab a bag of everything bagels and smile when Jungkook follows your lead and drops a bag into his own cart.

A few minutes of meandering later, you find Trixie and Daeun together in the snack aisle, deep in discussion about their favorite candies. The conversation winds down as you and Jungkook approach, and you decide not to comment when Trixie not-so-surreptitiously slips a package of chocolate caramels into your shopping cart.

“We should probably get going,” you say instead, pulling out your phone and glancing at the time. “Gosh, there really aren’t enough hours in the day. You ready, bug?”

“Yep!” Trixie replies cheerily, turning to wave goodbye to Daeun and Jungkook. “Bye, Daeun! Bye, Mr. Jeon!”

“See you Monday, Trixie! You too, Miss {L/N}!” Daeun exclaims. And as you and Jungkook exchange smiles and farewells of your own, you feel lighter than you’ve felt in days, as if an invisible weight has lifted.

///

Like clockwork, Monday morning finds you at the counter of Bean There, Done That! with an apologetic Jin offering you your usual coffee in a size larger than the one you’d paid for. “Again?” you exclaim as you accept the cup and take a generous sip. “I can’t believe this. You opened like, twenty minutes ago.”

The corner of Jin’s mouth twitches. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he produces a full tray of cinnamon streusel bagels from somewhere beneath the counter, picking out the best-looking one before sliding the tray into its spot in the display. “I just wanted to see the look on your face,” he admits as he slips the bagel into a paper bag and hands it over. “These are fresh—still pretty warm, in fact. Surprised you didn’t smell them when you came in.”

“I did smell them,” you tell him, wagging a finger. “But the blueberry bagels are always kind of overpowering and this whole place tends to smell like vanilla anyway, so excuse me for taking you for your word when you said you were out.”

“You know, a simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed,” Jin sniffs. Then he gestures to the stack of napkins next to the cash register and waggles his eyebrows. “Care to leave a snarky note of your own?”

A slow grin spreads across your face as you start fishing in your purse for a pen. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

///

The rest of the day goes smoothly, and you’re pretty sure it’s all thanks to the cinnamon streusel bagel you’d had the time to truly savor this morning. You’d even bought an extra for Taehyung, who for his part contributed a tupperware full of bacon strips and a pitcher of mixed berry smoothie to your breakfast. For lunch you’d made sure to eat a healthy dose of vegetables, and as you head into the final period of the day, you feel more than ready to give a room full of children their next big assignment.

“All right, class,” you say as your students filter into the classroom and start taking their seats. “We’ve been learning about the animal kingdom for the last few weeks, and it’s finally time to put everything we’ve learned so far together. I’m going to go around and hand each of you a card. Take a look at it—you’ll either see a picture of an animal, or the name of an animal.” Grabbing the stack of cards off your desk, you begin distributing them, slowly making your way up and down the rows of desks. “Then, I want you to get up out of your seats and find the card that matches yours. If there’s a picture of a zebra on your card, you want to find the person with ‘zebra’ written on their card. And that person will be your partner for this project. Does that make sense to everyone?”

Nods and exclamations of affirmation all around. Satisfied, you hand out the last of your cards and return to your desk, gesturing for your students to stand up and find their partners. You watch as the children mill around, exclaiming happily when they find their match. Much to your satisfaction, you see that Daisy—a little girl who always has her blond hair corralled into a neat braid—and Josiah—a well-mannered boy with a different-colored polo for each day of the week—just so happen to be partners. You hadn’t planned it that way, but you’ve always gotten the feeling that there was a hint of a little crush there.

Another pleasant surprise comes in the form of Daeun, who’s plopped herself in the seat beside Trixie and is animatedly gesturing at her card. Even from your spot in the front of the classroom, you can read the big block letters that spell out “penguin” and see the corresponding line drawing on Trixie’s card. And as the girls begin to chat, it’s as if the issues of the last few months hadn’t happened at all.

Your class spends the last few hours of the school day in the library, working on their newly assigned project. You’ve set up shop at the table nearest Taehyung’s desk, which you’ve always kind of envied. Perfectly round and situated in the center of the room, it allows for a 360-degree view of the entire library if he so much as spins in his chair. “Honestly, I could get so much done if I had one of these,” you lament to him as you watch Josiah sharpen Daisy’s pencil for her out of the corner of your eye. “I’d set up the best frickin’ assembly line you ever saw.”

“You sound like a workaholic,” Taehyung replies, doing yet another lazy revolution in his seat. “Or a lunatic. Same thing, really.”

Resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at him, you settle for rolling your eyes instead. The final bell of the day rings, and you shepherd your students out of the library with your friend on your heels. As the children disperse to their lockers, you trail after Trixie and Daeun, waiting for the two to say their goodbyes so you and your daughter can walk to the car together. It’s still odd seeing the two getting along so well, but you aren’t about to question it as you and Taehyung follow the girls to their lockers—which happen to be in the same section of the hallway—and then out and into the bright afternoon sun. Smiling, you listen to them chattering excitedly about the project even as Taehyung launches into a tirade about his latest rent increase.

“Seriously, I should just move at this point—it’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t even use the conference center, and the indoor pool is just a waste of space when there’s a public one that’s twice the size three blocks away. And that one even has a hot tub! Not to mention—”

You sigh, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Jeez, Tae, just move. You’ve been threatening to for over a year now, and it’s not like anyone’s forcing you to stay. You don’t even like the neighborhood, for god’s sake. I don’t know why you stuck around for that long.”

Taehyung sniffs. “Moving’s just such a hassle, you know? I really wanted to avoid it, but I guess I can’t this time around. A 22% rent increase… fucking hell. You’ll help me pack, won’t you?”

“I’d rather not.”

“But you’re so good at packing! And you have all that bubble wrap and the box of styrofoam peanuts hoarded in your closet—”

“Stored in my closet.”

“Whatever,” he says dismissively, waving you off. “I’m not here to debate semantics with you.”

“No, you’re here to guilt me into helping you move,” you reply. “What’s up with that, anyway? I thought you swore off of renting U-Hauls for good after last time. You were googling moving companies and getting quotes for weeks.”

“Yeah, I definitely lost that spreadsheet,” Taehyung admits. “Besides, money’s a little tight right now. Every last bit of spare change we have is going toward Jimin’s new pilates studio. We’re saving wherever and whenever we can.”

You nod in understanding at the mention of his fiancé and his new business venture. “How’s all that going, anyhow? I know Jimin’s been super busy—we haven’t been to bar trivia in weeks.”

“Yeah, it’s a whole thing,” Taehyung says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Starting a business is hard—who knew?”

“Who knew, indeed,” you echo. You’re about to say something else, too, but any semblance of coherence flies out of your head when you glance at the girls again and see that they’ve come to a stop. There’s a sleek black Mercedes-Benz idling at the curb, and leaning against it is none other than Jungkook Jeon—dressed in a sharp navy blue ensemble with his hair slicked back and dark sunglasses perched on his nose. It’s impossible to tell whether he’s seen you yet, and it’s all you can do to tear your gaze away before you get caught staring. Turning back instead to Taehyung, you raise a hand in farewell. “Well, it looks like this is my stop.”

“Seems that way,” your friend hums, casting a curious glance at Trixie, who’s enthusiastically greeted Jungkook with a Hi again, Mr. Jeon! and is now giggling with Daeun about how they can see their reflections in his car. “See you tomorrow. Don’t get into too much trouble!”

You roll your eyes at the flagrant wink Taehyung sends your way, surreptitiously flipping him off from behind your tote bag. Then you make your way over to your daughter, who’s still engrossed in conversation. Coming to a stop behind her, you lay a hand on her shoulder, smiling as she looks up and flashes you a big grin. “All righty. You ready to go home, jitterbug?” you ask.

Trixie juts her bottom lip out into a pout. “Can I go to Daeun’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at Jungkook, who’s now scrolling through his phone. Then you return your gaze to your daughter, taking in her eager, bright eyes. “I don’t know, bug. Have you asked Mr. Jeon if you can come over?”

Daeun pipes up then, her pigtails bobbing with every word. “He says it’s okay, Miss {L/N}! Since we have a project to work on and all. He even said we can order takeout for dinner!”

Again, you look at Jungkook. His expression is unreadable behind his sunglasses, but when he feels your gaze he glances up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Dae’s right—I did promise the girls takeout. Sorry to catch you off guard with last-minute plans like this, Miss {L/N}. If you’d like, you’re welcome to join us as well.”

You blink. To say that the invitation has caught you off guard would be a massive understatement, and as your brain races to catch up, you suddenly realize that he’s willing to let you come to his home. You would be in his space—where he lives, eats, sleeps. The thought is simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

“I—I don’t want to impose,” you finally manage after what feels like an eternity. “I’m sure you’re busy, and I have a lot of homework to grade, and…” You trail off, hesitant, and Jungkook waits a beat before chiming in.

“No imposition at all,” he says, offering you a small smile. “Honest. I’ve spent two of the last three weekends hosting sleepovers for Daeun’s friends, and I’m not convinced I remember what adult company is like anymore.” Then his smile widens—just enough to offer a glimpse of his endearingly prominent front teeth and crinkle the corners of his eyes. “Remind me?”

You aren’t sure if you’re imagining the flirtatious edge in his tone, but you push the thought to the very back of your head and straighten the hem of your blouse before grasping for the phone tucked in your bag. “I… I suppose that would be all right,” you begin hesitantly as you pretend to check for new notifications. “You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”

“None at all,” Jungkook reassures. “Here, I’ll give you my address for your GPS, but it might be easier if you just follow me. Where are you parked?”

You gesture toward the staff parking lot, which is usually separated from the main lot by a row of neatly manicured hydrangea bushes that bloom in bursts of pink and blue and purple during the spring and summer months. Right now, there are only a few sparse yellow daffodils, pushing up through the dirt and signaling that spring is not far off despite the lingering chill in the air. “I’m about three rows in. I can drive over and meet you here, if that works?”

Trixie chooses that moment to pipe up, instinctively raising her hand like she’s still in class. “Can I ride with Daeun and Mr. Jeon?”

You hesitate, glancing over at Jungkook, who shrugs as if to say fine by me. Turning your attention back to your daughter, you nod and reach down to adjust the glittery pink scrunchie in her hair. “Be good,” you order. “Don’t distract Mr. Jeon while he’s driving, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” Trixie hums, already turning toward the sleek black Benz and tugging on the door handle. “See you there, Mom!”

You wave, watching as the girls climb into the backseat before turning and making your way to your own car. Unlocking the door, you slide into the driver’s seat and take a deep breath. Then, you take another. And a few moments later, you take a third.

Even as you mentally play back the events of the afternoon, you still can’t wrap your head around how it came to this. Here you are, about to drive to Jungkook Jeon’s house. You’ve seen his address in your files, and you know from the street name that he lives downtown, in the part of the city that’s dominated by high-rise buildings and five-star hotels. It’s an area that you don’t visit often, having no reason to unless there’s a particular restaurant that you’re looking to try out—and have the money for. It feels odd inputting his address into your phone’s navigation app, but you do so nonetheless, watching as it calculates the optimal route.

Steeling yourself, you start up the ignition and ease up on the brake. As you pull out of your parking space, you crane your head to see if Jungkook’s car is still where you’d last seen it, which it thankfully is. Slowly, you make your way over to where the Benz is idling, pulling up alongside him and giving him a little wave. Jungkook has donned his sunglasses again, but he lowers them when he sees you and nods in acknowledgment. Ready to go? he mouths, and you nod even though it’s a lie. You aren’t ready. You aren’t sure you ever will be. But Jungkook is already pulling ahead and out of the parking lot, and you’re forced to push aside your intrusive thoughts and follow.

The first stretch of the drive is easy. Jungkook is a measured driver, and you can tell that he’s taking care to turn only when there’s enough room for both of your vehicles. The second stretch, however, proves far more difficult. Now that you’re downtown, there’s an abundance of one-way streets and pedestrians. Traffic lights sit on seemingly every corner, alternating between red, yellow, and green at random, as far as you can tell. You nearly lose Jungkook twice on particularly short green lights, and only narrowly avoid hitting an overeager dog dragging its hapless owner into the crosswalk before the walk sign has changed.

The third time, it finally happens. Dismayed, you watch as Jungkook’s sleek black Benz cruises past a green light, just before it turns yellow for a split second and then flips to red. You’re forced to brake far faster than you’d prefer—way too fast to be safe, for sure—and watch as Jungkook disappears around the Starbucks on the next corner. Muttering out a quiet curse, you drum your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as you wait for the light to change again. Thankfully, you’re only about two minutes from your destination.

After what feels like an eternity, the light finally turns green. Releasing your foot on the brake, you take the turn that Jungkook had taken, glancing between your phone and the surrounding buildings to identify your destination. There’s a string of restaurants, a pharmacy, and a post office. You cruise past a dentist’s office and a few dry cleaners, and then your phone is directing you to turn right onto a street that boasts a long row of glass-fronted office buildings.

Two blocks later, you’re pulling up to a tall, sleek chrome building. The first floor is occupied by a seafood restaurant and the second and third seem to be a gym, but as you crane your head upward you can see that the floors above that seem to be condominiums. Letting your head fall back against the headrest, you glance down at your phone one more time, confirming that this is indeed your destination. Then you take a long, deep breath before you begin following the little blue signs that claim to lead to a parking garage beneath the building.

To your relief, the garage itself isn’t difficult to find. You take a ticket from the machine as you descend down the concrete ramp, keeping an eye out for any open spots that are designated as guest parking. Seconds pass, and then minutes. Your heart flutters nervously in your chest as you descend deeper into the parking garage, seeking a break in the rows of cars that never comes. You’re seconds away from giving up and turning around, when finally, you see an open spot. It’s a little cramped and it’s right next to a concrete pillar that’s just a little too close for comfort, but you manage to squeeze into the space. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, you turn off the ignition and tuck your keys into your purse, taking a moment to gather yourself before exiting your car and locking it behind you.

That’s when you encounter your next obstacle: figuring out how, exactly, to get out of the parking garage. You can’t find a single sign to guide your way—only a locked dark green door that you assume is some kind of mechanical room. Groaning, you spin in a full circle, taking in your concrete surroundings. Maybe if you just start walking, you’ll find a sign that will point you to the elevators. You’d even consider taking the stairs at this point, no matter how many floors down you are (you’re pretty sure it’s seven or eight).

Just then, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see Jungkook Jeon (Daeun’s Dad) emblazoned across the screen and immediately swipe to answer. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, obvious relief coloring his tone. “I’m sorry I lost you back there. Where are you now?”

“I’m in the parking garage below your building,” you reply, idly scuffing your foot along the concrete floor. “I’m parked pretty far down, and now I can’t seem to figure out how to get upstairs.”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ll admit the signage isn’t great down there. Let me see… can you see any doors?”

“Just this green one, but it’s locked.” Reaching out, you try the handle again to double-check. “Other than that, nothing.”

Another hum from the man on the other end of the line. “Okay, walk away from that door. Try and head toward the middle of the garage—that’s where the elevators are. There’s four of them, and they’re in this big concrete circle. Can you see them yet?”

“Maybe?” You can see a break in the rows of cars up ahead, and a rounded concrete wall in the distance. Speeding up, you make your way around the edge and blink as a bank of elevators comes into view. “Oh, wait—yeah! Huh. Weird. I didn’t expect the doors to be orange.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Each floor’s color-coordinated, yeah. Orange means you’re near the bottom, though. Didn’t you see the guest parking on the first floor?”

You blink. “No, I don’t think so. Did I miss something?”

That draws another chuckle from him. “Probably. There’s a row of spaces off to the right as soon as you enter the garage, but it can be pretty easy to miss if you don’t know to look for it. I should’ve given you a heads-up.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him as you enter the elevator and hit the button for the thirty-fourth floor. “I could’ve asked.”

Bidding him farewell and assuring that you’ll see him soon, you hang up and tuck your phone back into your pocket. The elevator ride is relatively short despite how high you’re going, and before you know it you find yourself standing in front of a navy blue door with a polished brass knocker. Raising your hand, you’re about to knock when the door flies open, revealing Daeun and Trixie standing there with identical grins.

“You’re finally here!” your daughter exclaims, bounding forward to take you by the hand and lead you inside. “Mr. Jeon said we had to wait for you to get here. He says he’s gonna give us a grand tour!”

“It’s really not as exciting as they’re making it sound.” Jungkook’s voice comes from around the corner, and the man himself steps into view a moment later. He’s taken off his jacket and removed his tie, leaving him in navy slacks and a crisp white shirt with the first few buttons undone. Your gaze lingers a little too long on this newly exposed sliver of chest, but you forcibly tear your gaze away when Trixie gives your hand a squeeze.

“Come on, Mom! You can see everything from the window. It’s like you’re on top of a mountain!”

Laughing, you follow your daughter deeper into the apartment. She points to the closet off the foyer, where you obligingly hang up your coat next to her periwinkle one. Then she leads you to the far end of the foyer, where it opens into a wide hallway. On the other side of the hall is an archway that leads to a spacious kitchen with white cabinets and polished granite countertops. You take note of the bright yellow bar stools at the kitchen island, chuckling when Daeun loudly declares that she picked them out—and that Jungkook had caved to her despite wanting boring gray ones instead.

As you continue your tour, it becomes abundantly clear that Jungkook has caved to his daughter on multiple occasions. The furniture in the living area is neutral—shades of beige and dark wood that pair well with the polished floorboards and modern floor-to-ceiling windows. But scattered throughout the space are pops of color and quirkiness that you can confidently attribute to Daeun—having graded several of the art pieces that you now see hanging on the wall and adorning the sleek glass coffee table. There’s the lopsided clay vase painted with streaks of hot pink and specks of bright yellow, and there’s the papier-mâché snowman with his jaunty orange hat. You see more and more of Daeun’s influence everywhere you look—the watercolor butterfly paintings on the wall, and the red floral accent chair that you’re sure Jungkook didn’t pick out himself.

“That’s Daddy’s room,” Daeun says, pointing to a nondescript white door beside the bookshelves that flank the flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. Then she points down the hall, past the kitchen where you can see a few more doors. “And that’s my room down there, next to Daddy’s office. Do you want to see?”

You nod. “I can’t wait. Lead the way.”

Cheerfully, Daeun gestures for you to follow after her as she skips toward the door at the very end of the hall. She opens it with a flourish, allowing all of you inside, and as soon as you step past the threshold you’re transported to a fantastical world. Daeun’s bedroom walls are painted to resemble an enchanted forest, complete with delicate fairy lights wrapped around the wooden four-poster bed. A white desk and an accompanying green chair sit in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the pale pink curtains opened to let sunlight stream in. Along the sill is a collection of stuffed animals, ranging from a tiny butterfly to an elephant that you’re pretty sure is taller than Daeun herself. Opposite the bed is a gallery wall, composed of colorful floral prints and Daeun’s own art—a charming, eclectic mix of animal paintings and landscapes. It’s the kind of bedroom that you would’ve loved as a child, and your daughter is equally taken with it if her awed expression is anything to go by.

“This is so cool!” Trixie runs to the window to peer out at the city below, before twirling in a circle to take in the art on the walls. “I can’t believe you live here. It’s like a magic forest!”

“It’s a beautiful room,” you remark, nodding your agreement. “And all of these drawings are amazing, Daeun. You’re a talented artist.”

Daeun flushes at the compliment, thanking you with a shy smile. Then she and Trixie are off again, speeding down the hallway to look at something else in the apartment. You and Jungkook trail after them slowly, until he opens another door off the hall to reveal his office. It’s smaller than Daeun’s bedroom and far more simplistic in its decor, but it’s a cozy and inviting space nonetheless. One wall is lined with mahogany bookshelves, and a polished wooden desk is pushed against the opposite. A plush burgundy armchair with a matching ottoman sits in the corner beside a tall potted plant, creating the perfect space for reading, and you can tell from the indentation in the seat cushion that it’s been well-loved over the years.

“I’ve definitely been bringing my work home too much lately,” Jungkook admits. “I’ve been cutting back though. Ever since Daeun’s behavioral problems…” He trails off. “Well, you know all about that already. And I do want to apologize for giving you a hard time. It’s just… I guess it’s not all that fun being told that you’re failing as a parent.”

“You’re not failing as a parent,” you reply, laying a hand on his arm before you can think to stop yourself. “You’re doing your best. It’s all we can do, isn’t it? Do everything we possibly can for our children?”

He nods, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking down at your hand on his arm, and you blanch inwardly as you quickly pull back and pretend to brush invisible dirt off your skirt. “We should go find the girls,” you murmur. And just like that, the tour is over.

The two of you rejoin the girls in the kitchen, where they’ve begun assembling themselves a snack of peanut butter and crackers. Jungkook slices up an apple and a banana for them to share, and they barely take the time to thank him before disappearing into Daeun’s bedroom to work on their project. You and Jungkook find yourselves alone in the kitchen, and when the silence between you has stretched on for just long enough to be awkward, you decide to speak. “So. I guess I should probably grade some homework while I’m here.”

Jungkook blinks and shakes his head a little, as if coming out of a trance. “Right, of course. I’ve got a few things I need to wrap up myself. Please, make yourself comfortable. You’re free to work in the office, if you’d like.”

Immediately, you shake your head. “Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude.”

He nods, then gestures out toward the dining table, which sits in a little nook between the main living area and kitchen. “Well then, feel free to make use of the table. Or the kitchen island. Or even the couch, if you’d prefer.” He pauses. “Wait, where are my manners? I haven’t even offered you anything to drink! Did you want anything?”

“Oh.” You hesitate. “I’m okay.”

Jungkook begins making his way to the refrigerator, regardless. “Seriously, it’s no trouble. I have coffee, tea, banana milk, and I think there’s probably a carton of apple juice in here too. What do you usually drink when you’re grading?”

“Tea,” you admit. “Any kind. I’m not picky.”

“Tea it is.” Jungkook sets about grabbing two mugs. “Go on, make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring it to you.”

For a moment, you wonder if you should ask if he needs help. But he’s already preoccupied with the kettle, his back to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his broad shoulders taper into his slim waist. In an attempt to distract yourself from gawking, you walk back out to the dining table. Pulling out a chair, you settle your bag on the floor beside you and take a seat. And by the time Jungkook comes out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs of tea, you’re already halfway through grading the first math worksheet in your pile.

“Here you go.” Jungkook places a mug by your elbow, and you glance up at him with a grateful smile.

“Thanks.” “No problem.”

To your surprise, he takes his mug to the opposite side of the table and sets it down. Then he disappears into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with his laptop in hand. You try not to stare as he sets up shop across from you, a loose lock of dark hair flopping across his forehead as he logs in and begins reading something, his dark eyes flitting across the screen. His piercing in his eyebrow glints in the sunlight streaming in through the nearby window.

Ripping your gaze away, you force yourself to focus on the homework you need to grade. And after a few minutes, you’re fully immersed, thumbing through sheet after sheet and writing down your notes.

Before you even realize it, two hours have passed. You only become aware of how late it’s getting when Jungkook shuts his laptop with a click, stretching his arms overhead and working a few kinks out of his neck. “It’s almost dinnertime,” he remarks, glancing out the window where the sun is steadily dropping closer to the horizon. “Did you have any thoughts about dinner? I can order some pizza or something.”

“Oh, I don’t think—” you begin to protest, but Daeun and Trixie choose that moment to dash in like mini tornadoes, whirling around the dining table.

“We can still order takeout for dinner, right Daddy?” Daeun gazes up at Jungkook with pleading eyes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “And Trixie and Miss {L/N} can stay if we do, right?”

Trixie looks at you, lower lip already beginning to jut out in a pout. “Please, Mom?”

Jungkook gives you a meaningful glance across the table, and you can only shrug and relent. “Yeah, all right. Since takeout was already promised, we can stay for dinner. But we’re going home after that, okay? It’s a school night.”

The girls burst into cheers. After a brief discussion on what kind of food to order, you all settle on Jungkook’s initial suggestion of pizza. As he puts in the order, you begin tidying up the dining table, clearing it of your graded homework. Daeun points out where the plates are kept, and together, you and the girls set the table for dinner.

“Estimated delivery time is half an hour,” Jungkook says as he tucks his phone back into his pocket and joins you at the dining table. “What should we do while we wait?”

“Let’s play Candyland!” Daeun exclaims.

Trixie gasps. “I love Candyland!”

And just like that, it’s settled. The four of you settle around the coffee table for the game—you and Jungkook making yourselves comfortable on the cream-colored sectional while the girls sprawl out on the shaggy rug on the floor. The pizza arrives just as Trixie reaches Candy Castle, and Jungkook goes to answer the door while she celebrates her victory. Then, the four of you sit down for dinner.

It’s strange, sitting in Jungkook’s undoubtedly expensive apartment and eating pizza. But even more strange is how okay it all feels—natural, even. You aren’t sure when you became so comfortable in his presence, but you aren’t about to question it. You’re grateful for the lack of awkwardness.

An hour later, the last slice of pizza is finished. You volunteer to do the dishes, and Jungkook clears the table while you take up residence at the sink. You’ve tasked Trixie with gathering up her things so you can depart after you’ve finished in the kitchen, and can hear her giggling off in the distance with Daeun. “Thanks for hosting us today,” you murmur to Jungkook.

He chuckles, waving off your gratitude. “It’s no problem, seriously. I had a good time.”

You smile at him before returning to the dishes. Just as you’re putting away the last plate, the girls run back into the kitchen—Trixie with her backpack in tow.

“Can Daeun come to our house next time?” she asks, and you laugh.

“Sure, jitterbug. You’re welcome to come over whenever you’d like, Daeun.”

And with that, you and Trixie say your final goodbyes. You slip back into your shoes and grab your coats from the closet. Jungkook gives you directions for the easiest route out of the parking garage, and you thank him for what feels like the umpteenth time.

You’re barely listening to your daughter’s ramblings as you climb into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition. All you can think about is Jungkook and this strange, newfound warmth that stirs in your belly whenever he seeps into your thoughts.

///

“You wiped that part of the counter already.”

Trixie’s voice barely registers in your mind, but the washcloth in your hand slows nonetheless. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning with hardly a cloud in the sky, and Jungkook and Daeun are due to arrive any minute. You’ve been cleaning for the past hour, and even though you know you’ve already gone through the kitchen, you can’t help yourself. This is the first time Jungkook will be seeing your humble abode, and you—ostensibly—want to impress.

“Bug, can you set the table?”

Trixie sighs dramatically, but complies nonetheless. Grabbing four plates, she places them down carefully before returning for four glasses. You join her at the table with a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, straightening out one of the striped blue placemats as you set it down beside the vase of flowers that serves as a centerpiece.

You’ve just started frying bacon when the doorbell rings. “Got it!” Trixie calls, darting to the door, and you listen as she enthusiastically greets your guests. A few seconds later, Jungkook rounds the corner with both girls, decked out in jeans and a gray cable-knit sweather and carrying a plain white cardboard box in his hands.

Curiously, you tilt your head. “Mysterious box you’ve got there.”

He laughs. “Hello to you too.” Then he puts the box down and pops open the lid. “I brought my favorite bagels—I hope that’s okay. Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”

You smile at him. “Of course it’s okay. I was just planning on making some toast, but bagels are way be…” You trail off as the bagels in question come into your view.

Perfectly golden, with a dusting of cinnamon sugar and streusel crumbles on top. You’d recognize them anywhere.

“{Name}?” Jungkook sounds concerned. “Are you all right?”

You blink and shake your head, mind still whirring. “Are these from that coffee shop downtown? Bean There, Done That?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, have you been?”

You nod. “This… this might sound crazy and I might be way off base. But do you stop there every morning for a bagel?”

Jungkook blinks. Then he blinks again, his lips parting wordlessly. A beat passes, and then another. “Wait,” he finally manages, his voice a croak. “Hang on. Is it… I mean, it can’t be… can it?”

You reach into the drawer next to the stovetop and pull out a wad of pen-stained napkins. “Did you leave me these?”

For a few seconds, it seems like Jungkook can only gape at you. “Holy shit,” he finally breathes, before slapping a hand to his mouth with wide eyes and glancing around to make sure the girls aren’t within earshot. “I was leaving you notes this whole time?”

You can only laugh in disbelief. “You were the one taking my cinnamon streusel bagels?”

“Hey, I wouldn’t have taken them if you’d gotten there earlier,” he teases. Chuckling, he picks up a napkin note and uncrumples it, scanning across the text. “Damn. Small world, huh?”

“The smallest,” you agree, mind reeling from this new development. Still chuckling, Jungkook steps past you to get to the stove, and you belatedly remember that the bacon is still sizzling in the pan as he picks up your tongs and carefully flips each strip.

“I kept your notes too,” he says after a moment. “I shoved both of them in my glovebox.”

You huff. “Both. Yeah, okay, you beat me to the last bagel way more than I beat you. You don’t have to rub it in, Jungkook.”

“Oh, come on.” He grins, toothy and bright, and you’re momentarily distracted by the endearing prominence of his teeth. “I think I have to rub it in a little.”

“Hmph. As long as it’s only a little,” you concede as you join him at the stove with another pan and begin scrambling eggs. Together, the two of you finish making breakfast, piling eggs onto one plate and bacon on another. You grab the bowl of fruit salad you’d prepared last night out of the fridge, and Jungkook grabs the box of bagels and calls for Daeun and Trixie to come eat. Then, he surprises you by sitting beside you, leaving the girls to sit next to each other on the opposite side of the table.

Breakfast is a relaxed affair—even if Taco keeps trying to jump up on the table to steal some bacon. You’ve eaten several meals with Jungkook and Daeun since that first dinner—usually at Jungkook’s apartment, but also once at the food court in your local natural history museum, where you took the girls to see the ocean exhibit’s penguin display. Since this is the final weekend before their group project is due on Monday, you’ve promised to take them to the zoo to see real, live penguins and complete the last of their research. Both girls already have their backpacks packed and ready to go, and you task Jungkook with checking to make sure they have all their notes while you clean up in the kitchen.

Twenty minutes later, you’re on your way to the zoo. Jungkook has volunteered to drive, and you can’t help but gape a little as he unlocks his sleek black Mercedes-Benz and opens up the passenger door to reveal cream-colored leather seats and shiny silver hardware. “Wow,” you remark, catching his eye as he walks around to the driver’s side. “This is like the Batmobile or something.”

“Hardly,” he says with a laugh. “I wish I had rocket boosters and ejection seats. That’d be cool as hell.”

“Daddy!” Daeun gasps, scandalized. “That’s a bad word!”

Jungkook has the decency to look properly abashed. “I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar when we get home,” he promises before pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key. Satisfied, Daeun clambers into the backseat with Trixie on her heels, and Jungkook shoots you a conspiratorial little wink as he takes his own seat and starts up the engine.

The drive to the zoo takes only about fifteen minutes. It’s already beginning to get crowded by the time you get there, but Jungkook still manages to find parking with little difficulty. Together, the two of you usher your daughters out of the car, reminding them not to run too far ahead when they immediately make a beeline for the entrance.

After a short wait in line to buy tickets, you finally make your way past the lion statues flanking the front gate. The wide concrete pathway leads to an open plaza where people are milling about—some looking at the directory located at the far end while others rely on the colorful signpost in the center, reading through the various directional arrows before heading off to their destination. Along the edges of the plaza are a multitude of stalls—selling everything from footlong hot dogs to stuffed animals to cotton candy. There’s a couple of artists painting faces, too, and Daeun only has to give Jungkook one wide-eyed, pleading look before he caves and pulls out his wallet. Aghast, you try to protest, but he waves you off and sends them both off with some cash in hand.

“Consider it payment for all the bagels I’ve deprived you of,” he says, and you relent with a laugh.

Slowly, the two of you make your way around the plaza, making sure to keep a watchful eye on the girls at all times. Half an hour later, Trixie and Daeun come skipping back your way, their faces bright with colorful paint. Daeun has an intricate pink and blue butterfly, while Trixie has opted for the distinctive orange and black stripes of a tiger.

“Do you like it?” she asks, and you nod, bopping her fondly on her painted black nose.

“I don’t just like it, jitterbug. I love it.”

Pleased, she rejoins Daeun, who has successfully diverted Jungkook to the cotton candy stand. Following after her, you hand the vendor your credit card to pay for both snacks before Jungkook can get a word in edgewise. Reluctantly, he tucks his wallet away, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

Once the girls have had their fill of the main plaza, the four of you head off in the direction of the penguin exhibit, stopping to look at the zebras and giraffes along the way. Photographs are snapped, and Trixie even flags down a nearby couple and asks them to take a photo of all four of you together. The girls jostle into place in front of the giraffe enclosure, and you suddenly find yourself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook, the warmth of his body radiating off of him like the sun in the sky. Your resulting smile feels forced—especially when the girl starts taking multiple photos from different angles—but gradually relaxes. And now, even as you enter the penguin exhibit, you can’t stop sneaking glances at the last photo.

Because in it, you and Jungkook look like couple. You’re standing close enough that anyone who saw it would construe it as a family photo, the two of you beaming with your giggling daughters in front of you, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders.

Swallowing, you let your phone screen go dark and tuck it back into your pocket. You’re coming up on the penguin exhibit now, and the girls can barely contain their excitement as they run ahead to the outermost edge of the enclosure where a massive glass wall allows for a clear view of the penguins swimming about underwater.

“They’re so fast!” Trixie exclaims. She stops at one of the numerous placards lining the glass wall, her little face scrunching as she slowly reads it out loud to Daeun. “It says here some can swim over twenty miles an hour!”

As the girls pull out their notebooks and begin taking notes, you and Jungkook find an unoccupied bench near a rocky outcrop occupied by several bronze penguin statues. “Look,” Jungkook says, patting one of the upright penguins. “You can see how many people have rubbed this little guy’s head. It’s turned gold.”

“Must be good luck,” you remark, running a finger along the golden beak of another penguin. “Or maybe I should make a wish? I don’t really know what this situation calls for.”

“I’m pretty sure you make wishes when you throw a coin into a fountain,” your companion replies, brushing a dark strand of hair off his forehead. “Actually, I think I saw a fountain back there. Should we check it out later?”

“I don’t think I have any change on me,” you reply, peeking into your purse to make sure. “Seriously, who even carries coins anymore?”

“Not me,” Jungkook agrees. “I do usually have at least a little cash on me, though. It’s nice to have sometimes.”

“Mm, yeah. You never know when you’ll need it.”

Just then, Trixie and Daeun run up, gesturing toward the brown building at the very back of the enclosure. “There’s a penguin movie playing over there!” Daeun says. “Can we go see it?”

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “How long is it?”

“I think it runs every twenty minutes,” you reply when Daeun frowns and scratches her head. “Come on. If I’m remembering correctly, we should be able to see more penguins inside too.”

Daeun and Trixie beam. “Cool!” they exclaim in unison, before galloping off and leaving you and Jungkook to follow after them as quickly as you can manage without breaking into a run yourselves.

Your memory proves correct, as you enter the brown building and immediately see that the walls inside are glass as well. A penguin dives off of a rocky island and into the clear blue water, and you watch as it goes all the way to the bottom of the pool before coming back up for air.

After doing a lap of the building, Daeun and Trixie decide to go into the theater to see the fifteen-minute short film. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook find a quiet little alcove near the entrance, chatting softly while watching the penguins behind the glass on the opposite wall.

“I haven’t been to the zoo in ages,” Jungkook admits. “Dae’s mom used to always take her, though. They always came back with a stuffed animal from the gift shop—you might’ve seen them in Daeun’s room, actually. She loves them.”

You nod. “I remember, yeah. It’s quite an impressive collection.” Then you hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip as you consider your next words and debate whether you’re being too nosy. “Daeun’s mom… can I ask what happened between you?” You pause, then quickly speak again. “And feel free to say no, obviously! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m probably just poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Jungkook smiles at you, but there’s a faraway quality to his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Nah, it’s okay. There’s really not much to tell, if I’m honest. Evelyn and I, we started dating when we were nineteen. We got married at twenty-three, had Daeun a couple years later, and then one day we realized that we’d become entirely different people and that we weren’t really in love anymore.”

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what else to say. “I-I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugs and sighs, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “No need to be sorry; it was a mutual thing. Totally amicable. We’re still friends, and we’re a pretty kickass co-parenting team too.”

The conversation continues, and you find out that Evelyn’s job took her overseas last year. According to Jungkook, she currently lives with her new boyfriend, who’s a little pretentious but completely harmless. And despite the six-hour time difference, Evelyn still finds the time to FaceTime Jungkook and Daeun every Sunday afternoon. Because of those calls, she’s apparently heard all about you, too—you’re her favorite teacher, remember? he’d said with a laugh.

“What about you, then?” Jungkook glances over at you inquiringly, his eyebrows raised. “Is it my turn to pry?”

You can tell from the melodious lilt in his tone that he’s teasing. “My story’s far less interesting than yours,” you answer, fiddling with a stray thread on your jacket sleeve. “I don’t have an ex-partner or anything like that. I’ve just always wanted to be a mother, so one day I decided that I was going to do it. I used a donor, got pregnant, and here we are.”

Jungkook takes this in slowly, nodding. “Do you… I mean, do you know who your donor is? Have you met him?”

You shake your head. “No, it was an anonymous thing. I got a profile and some information about his appearance and hobbies and stuff, but not much beyond that.”

“I—” Jungkook begins, before trailing off. “I’m sorry. I’m asking too many questions. I don’t know a whole lot about the sperm donor thing, but I’m glad it worked out for you. Trixie’s an amazing kid.”

“She is,” you murmur. “I love her more than anything.”

“And you’re an amazing mom.” Jungkook’s voice grows softer, and when you turn to look at him, he seems closer than he was before. “I don’t know how you manage it all, teaching and parenting. But you do, and it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”

You aren’t sure who leans in first. All you know is that one moment, you’re staring into Jungkook’s earnest brown eyes, and then in the next, you’re kissing him.

It starts soft. Cautious, even. His lips press against yours gently, once, before he pulls back for a breath. You can feel him exhale, the warmth fanning your cheeks. And then you pull him back in by his collar, fisting one hand in the knit material and finding the soft hair at his nape with the other.

Time slows to a standstill. Jungkook groans against your lips, and you feel the way it rumbles through his chest, the sensation sinking into your skin and settling straight in your core. His hands find your hips, and you wind both arms around his neck to pull him closer.

And then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, time starts ticking again. Reality crashes down around you in the form of familiar, boisterous voices rapidly heading your way. You and Jungkook only barely manage to untangle yourselves before Trixie and Daeun round the corner of the alcove, chattering excitedly about all the new penguin facts they’ve learned.

“Can we go to the petting zoo next?” Trixie asks, seemingly oblivious to your lingering embarrassment at nearly being caught.

Awkwardly, you clear your throat. At your side, Jungkook is faring no better, shuffling his feet and refusing to make eye contact. “Yeah, sure, bug,” you finally manage when you find your voice again. “Lead the way.”

///

Monday dawns cloudy and gray. The weather app on your phone promises thunderstorms later in the afternoon, but that isn’t enough to dampen your mood one bit. Instead, you thumb back over to your messages, your heart skipping a beat when you see the text still sitting at the very top.

[6:54am] Jungkook Jeon: Make sure to stop by bean there, done that before school. Left you a surprise ;)

Taking a deep breath, you type out a response:

[6:56am] You: I’m a little scared. Should I be scared?

His answer comes in immediately. Nah. It’s a good surprise, I promise.

[6:58am] You: Sure it is… 🤨

Biting back a grin, you tuck your phone into your bag and head toward the front door of your apartment, nearly tripping over Taco along the way, who has chosen that moment to start slinking between your legs.

“Really, Taco?” you ask the unperturbed calico cat at your feet. “What if I fell and cracked my head open? Who would feed you then, huh?”

As usual, Taco merely gives you an unimpressed look before flicking her tail and wandering off. Sighing, you call for Trixie to hurry up before turning to check your appearance in the mirror leaning against the wall of the entryway. It’s a large, vintage piece—a gold-framed, flea market find that you treasure dearly and swear makes you look good no matter how awful you might feel.

Satisfied, you hike your bag higher on your shoulder and smooth down the lapels of your coat. Trixie rounds the corner and gives herself a quick once-over too, and you give her a thumbs-up. “Ready, bug?”

“Yup!” she replies, tightening her grip on her and Daeun’s project—a carefully constructed shoebox diorama that shows a group of penguins in their natural icy habitat.

“Let’s go, then.” Opening the front door, you let her through before locking it up behind you. Together, you head out to the car, and Trixie ensures that her diorama is completely secured in the seat beside her while you check your mirrors and turn on the ignition.

The drive to Bean There, Done That! takes only about ten minutes. Jin waves cheerily when he spots you walking up to the counter, but his face positively lights up when he sees Trixie is with you. He absolutely adores your daughter—Trixie loves him too—and on the occasional instance you’ve had to call on him to babysit, the two of them always end up stuffed with food on the couch and giggling over bad puns.

“What can I get you, ma’am?” Jin asks, directing the question at Trixie, who beams at him before turning to look at you with pleading eyes.

“Can I have a double chocolate cookie?”

“That… actually sounds really good,” you admit. “Make that two. And Jin, did someone leave something here for me earlier?”

Jin grins. “Thought you’d never ask. This here is from one Mr. Jungkook Jeon.” Reaching beneath the counter, he pulls out a box and watches as you open the lid to reveal half a dozen cinnamon streusel bagels with a neatly folded napkin on top. Unfolding it, you can only laugh at the words written on it:

Hope you have a mug-nificient day!

“Just so you know, he stole that line from me,” Jin says with a sniff. “I’m not letting him take the credit.”

“Duly noted,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide your smile as you look down at the note again. After a couple beats, Jin clears his throat, and you glance up to see that he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Sooo,” he begins slowly, dragging out the single syllable, “I imagine you want a fresh napkin and a pen, unless… are you going to see Mr. Jungkook Jeon at some point?”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance as best you can. “Trixie was paired with his daughter for a school project, so we’ve been meeting up for the past few weeks so they can work on it. Now that that’s over with… I don’t really know. We’re both pretty busy.”

Jin scoffs. “That’s a lame excuse, especially since he’s clearly flirting with you. And—”

Unfortunately, Trixie interrupts before he can finish his sentence, skipping back over from where she had been examining the pastry display cases along the wall. “Can I have a lemon bar?”

You fix her with a stern look. “You already asked for the double chocolate cookie, remember? The lemon bars can wait until next time.” Then you turn back to Jin, reaching into your bag for your wallet. “We should probably get to school, anyhow. What do I owe you?”

“Not a thing,” he replies, handing over a paper bag with your cookies and a bottle of apple juice. “It’s already been taken care of.”

From the wink he sends your way, you know that it must have been Jungkook who doled out the extra cash for your breakfast. “Thanks, Jin,” you reply, handing Trixie the cookies and juice before accepting the cup of coffee he hands over. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Pleasure doing business with ya,” is his response. Trixie waves goodbye, and together, the two of you head back out to the car. It’s started drizzling since you arrived, and you thank your lucky stars that you’d managed to snag a parking spot right up front.

Your daughter seems to be deep in thought as you help her buckle her seatbelt, her lips pursed in concentration. Then, out of nowhere, she asks:

“Do you like Mr. Jeon?”

You nearly choke. “W-what?”

“Mr. Jeon,” she repeats patiently, and you’re thankful that she’s not looking at you—instead, she’s focused on the raindrops splashing against the window and racing each other down the glass. “You spent a bunch of time with him when Daeun and I were doing school stuff. What’d you do?”

“Adult stuff,” you reply, before cursing inwardly at the potential implication behind your words. “Mostly, I spent my time grading homework. And he had some things to do for work, too.”

Trixie hums, apparently satisfied with this answer. “He’s nice,” she declares. “He buys us food and he has a cool house.”

“Sure,” you agree. “He’s a very nice man.”

And with that settled, you finish buckling her in her seat. Shutting the back door, you suck in a deep, calming breath before circling around to the driver’s side and setting off on the familiar route to Hybe Academy.

///

“... Miss {L/N}, are you listening?”

You blink and sit up a little straighter in your chair. “Yes, of course. Please go on.” Hastily, you scribble down a few random words, hoping that will placate the parent sitting across from you. It’s parent-teacher conference week—and you’re beyond grateful that it’s Friday night as Mrs. Greene rambles on and on about how the school isn’t doing enough for her precious baby boy. She’s talking about how the school day should be extended now—or at least how teachers should watch after the children whose parents can’t pick them up right at three-thirty. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to understand. I mean, my husband is a very busy man, and I have my own business to run. I can’t be expected to drop everything in the middle of a client meeting to come pick Derrick up…

It takes everything in you not to snap at her. You know for a fact that her “business” is selling bejeweled keychains on Etsy—and that they’re incredibly poorly made, if the reviews are anything to go by. Instead, you bite your tongue—hard enough to taste metal—and remind her that the school’s operating hours are not for you to decide.

After what feels like an eternity, the clock strikes seven, marking the end of her reserved time block. Standing up, you shake her hand and wish her a pleasant evening before opening your planner and checking to see if you have any more meetings. Your parents have Trixie for the night and there’s a bottle of wine on your kitchen counter calling your name, and you cannot wait to get home and relax in the bath with a glass. Maybe, you think, I’ll even do a face mask.

The final name written in your planner stops you in your tracks. You haven’t seen him in over a week—not since that Monday when he left you half a dozen bagels at the coffee shop. The girls had insisted on meeting up that evening to celebrate turning their project in, so you’d all gone to a popular taco joint.

And then there’s a knock on your door, the three raps pulling you right out of your musings.

Silhouetted there in the doorframe is Jungkook Jeon, decked out in a polished charcoal suit and wearing a smile that makes your insides lurch dangerously in your chest. His dark hair is parted on the side, and you catch the slightest glimpse of his brow piercing glinting behind the hair that’s loose across his forehead. “Hi,” he says, his voice low, and you have to remind yourself that it’s impolite to stare as you find your voice.

“Hi yourself.”

He grins, baring the adorably prominent front teeth that you hate to admit you’ve grown rather fond of. “You look like you weren’t expecting me.”

“Oh, no. I just wasn’t expecting you on time,” you retort, gesturing to the plastic chair sitting across from your desk. “Your track record is questionable, at best.”

Jungkook grimaces. “Yeah, sorry about that. I made sure to leave plenty early this time, just in case I ran into traffic. Or if Bobby decided to corner me in the elevator again—that guy really doesn’t know when to shut up.” He pauses. “Wait, I told you about him, right? Works on the development team, owns one singular tie? Balding but tries to hide it with a bad combover?”

“That rings a bell,” you reply. “The tie is red and Christmas-themed, right?”

“Sure is.” Jungkook chuckles. “I thought they might’ve been polka dots the first time I met him, but nope. Christmas ornaments, even in the middle of July.”

You laugh. “Odd fashion choice.”

“Seriously. Don’t even get me started on the rest of his clothes,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “Here, let’s change the subject. Have you eaten yet?”

You gesture around your classroom, artificially lit with fluorescent light even as the sun begins to dip closer to the horizon. “Nope. I mean, I had about twenty minutes between the end of the school day and the start of my first meeting, so I scarfed down an apple in the break room. But that was hours ago.”

“Perfect.” At your look of disbelief, he chortles and quickly amends his phrasing. “Sorry, I just mean that I’ve got you covered. Here, look.” And he begins pulling things out of a paper bag that you hadn’t noticed him carrying before. Crackers, sliced baguette, an assortment of cured meats and cheeses, grapes. He produces a bottle of wine next, and you very nearly start clapping.

The last thing he pulls out is a single red rose, his smile soft and warm and dizzyingly affectionate as he presents it to you. “I—wow.” You aren’t sure what to say. “Thank you. I… I feel like I should’ve prepared something. Stolen an apple for you from the teacher’s lounge, at least.”

Jungkook snorts. “Well, here’s something you can help me out with. I don’t actually have glasses for the wine. Totally spaced and forgot that we’d need them. Any ideas?”

You’re on your feet before he can even finish asking. “I teach elementary schoolers, Mr. Jeon. I always have cups.”

Making your way to the cabinet by the window, you grab a box of little paper cups and pull out two. Jungkook accepts them when you hand them over, and you watch as he unscrews the cap on the wine bottle before pouring out two generous helpings. Together, you lay out the food he’s brought, spreading it across whatever empty space there is on your desk. “Cheers,” Jungkook says once you’ve both taken your seats again, raising his paper cup to tap against yours.

“Cheers.”

For a moment, there is silence as you both take a drink. Then Jungkook speaks, glancing up at you as he carefully begins crafting himself a mini salami and cheese sandwich. “So, where does Trixie stay while you’re doing all these meetings? Do your parents have her?”

You nod, taking another much-needed sip of wine. “Yeah, my mom picked her up after school. They actually have her until Sunday—my dad’s going to teach her how to fish tomorrow, and then I think they’re going to build a pillow fort.”

Jungkook chuckles around a mouthful of gouda. “I love a good pillow fort. Dae insists on building one at least once a week, and at this point, I’m honestly surprised there isn’t one permanently in her bedroom.”

Grinning, you reach for a cracker and some cheese. “Taco manages to destroy every pillow fort Trixie and I try to make. She either decides it’s a trampoline, or that it’s a good time to start scratching everything she can reach. We can’t win.”

“Sounds like you need better defenses,” Jungkook replies, waggling his eyebrows. “That, or you can come over whenever you need a pillow fort fix. I’m sure Dae and Trixie would create something truly epic together. I mean, that penguin diorama was pretty fucking cool, wasn’t it?”

“Very fucking cool,” you agree, and both of you burst into laughter.

Deep blue twilight settles outside as the two of you continue chatting over your makeshift meal. The cheese begins to dwindle, only a few lonely grapes remain on their stems, and when you go to top of your wine, you realize there’s less than a quarter of the bottle left.

“Wow, we really put a dent in this thing,” you remark, holding it out for Jungkook to see. “And it’s already dark out. The time kind of got away from us, huh?”

“You won’t catch me complaining,” Jungkook replies, tipping the last of his drink into his mouth. “I’m enjoying spending time with you.”

You can’t help but smile at his earnest honesty. “Me too.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then you rise from your seat. At the same time, Jungkook stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk, making his way around to meet you halfway. And then his mouth is on yours, warm and firm in a way that makes your heart do a backflip before plunking straight into your churning stomach.

Jungkook’s hands find your hips, palming along the flowy material of your dress before finding a resting place just above the soft curve of your rear. Your fingers delve into the soft hair at his nape to tug him closer, and he groans against your lips when your nails rake across his scalp. Slowly, he begins trailing kisses from the line of your jaw down to the column of your neck, pausing to lavish attention on any spots that make you gasp or squirm in his grasp.

The growing hardness against your lower belly is growing more and more evident with each passing second. Deliberately, you slide one hand down his chest, admiring the toned ridges of his abdomen that you can feel through his white shirt, before making your way down past his silver belt buckle. Jungkook inhales sharply when you cup his hardening cock through the charcoal material of his slacks, and, emboldened, you thumb across the head and relish in his resulting groan.

Any caution you may have had is thrown to the wind. Adjusting your grip, you shiver when you realize that he’s now fully hard beneath your fingertips, his erection thick and hot through the fabric. You try and visualize what it looks like underneath it all—the color of the flared head, the veins that run along it, the curve of the shaft, if there is one. And then you realize that you don’t have to imagine—you can look. You can rip his clothes off and explore every inch of his body in the way you’ve been itching to since you first kissed at the zoo last week. Your hands scrabble for his belt buckle, fumbling with the silver prong embedded in its notch.

“W-wait.” Jungkook’s hand lands over yours, and you note the breathlessness in his voice with satisfaction. “I… this is probably cheesy, but this isn’t how I pictured this happening. Not that I don’t like what’s happening, but I just… I’d like to take you out first. On a proper date, I mean. Without our girls in the next room, or down the hall, or in the museum playplace wreaking havoc.”

“That does sound nice,” you admit. “Actually, I’d really enjoy that. I haven’t been on a proper date in years.”

“Let’s do it, then,” Jungkook says. “My babysitter’s already been paid to watch Daeun until midnight, and your parents have Trixie. This is kinda perfect.”

You can’t help it—you drag your thumb across the head of his still-hard cock again and revel in the way his breath hitches just a little bit in his throat. “Midnight?” you query with an innocent tilt of your head. “Were you expecting something to happen tonight?”

“Hoping,” he replies with a cheeky grin. “And wait, let me ask you out properly. It just wouldn’t feel right otherwise.”

Confused, you let him stand from his seat and slip around you to retrieve the paper bag on the ground. Understanding dawns when he reaches inside and grabs a napkin, and you watch on in amusement as he takes a pen from the cup on your desk and begins writing. And after a few seconds, he wordlessly presents this to you:

Drinks? Dinner? Maybe dessert? ;)

And you can only laugh. “Game on, mister.”