Rob and Penny are super friends. Penny even considers Rob like a brother and Polly loves Rob very much too. Penny helped him cut his hair in a way that covered the static on his cheeks (it worked amazingly, but he's really uncomfortable with the hair on his face)

he is trying to find a way to make a vaccine for those infected (The apocalypse is about the void) and wants to try to save everyone

Rob, during the time he stayed with the survivors (including Gumball), ended up falling in love with Gumball, Which is sad because Gumball thinks Rob is one of those to blame for the apocalypse...

GIRL DAD GIRL DAD GIRL DAD GIRL DA-

yalls first child is DEFINITELY A GIRL. AND HES DEFINITELY SPOILING HER ROTTEN

every dad hc list I make of a fave, they’re a girl dad. Perhaps this is a bias, but idrc

even if he has a son tho…he’s still a girl dad yk

he will treat your children equally regardless of gender. He treats them with the same amounts of boundless affection!

but yeah he’s just the concept of a girl dad. Even if you have a boy first. He’s still girl dad- shaped. Do yall know what I’m saying?

moving on

i think it’s fun to debate if your child is born live or if…if you have to push out a whole egg…yeah…

im under a strong impression that it’s an egg

Malleus is a literal dragon. He’s got crazy strong genetics, just look at his mama and tell me otherwise.

also, they conceive with intense amounts of magic

so even if you’re human, I feel like it’s gonna be an egg just because of the magic involved.

This is all going with the concept I’ve seen that it grows with magic as well and comes out small

trust me bro. Trust me or pray.

ok so egg aside, let’s talk about that precious bundle of scales and joy actually hatching…oh boy

he cried. A lot. Torrential downpour outside. The kingdom didn’t need messengers. The sky told them the baby was born lmao.

i can’t tell who’s hands are gonna be more full, you or him.

because on one hand, you’re chasing a little dragon around the castle, on the other, malleus is making sure that when the baby sneezes they don’t sneeze fire in your face and incinerate their poor mother.

he is trying SO HARD to get out of his duties as much as possible for you so he can help out

he would literally hate himself forever if his child grew up lonely, or worse, you were left alone too.

his biggest fear is not having enough time for the two of you

but that’s okay

because the senate may be pushy, but post overblot malleus does. Not. Give. A. Fuck.

they already did enough in his past to ruin his childhood he will NAWT let them anywhere near his baby

banishing Lilia? Lost him.

speaking of which, Lilia is the go-to babysitter when you two get time together alone.

though tbh, malleus mostly trusts it because silver is there too.

unca silver and grandpa Lilia is absolutely the cutest thing in my mind but that a tale for another day

Speaking of time alone for you two

sadly, because he’s malleus, he can’t exactly leave for too long. So I fear that romantic dates are out of the question, because being seen in public and getting crowded when you two just want privacy is a no no. He’d be so pouty if your date got ruined

so your weekends together (every weekend btw he will not tolerate less) are spent in the woods just walking and talking, or sitting and talking.

there will be SEVERAL times that he sets up a cute little picnic in the woods for you, and the biggest teller is that when he does, he always brings your coat because you’ll be out for a while longer.

and if you’re not in the woods, you’re in the bedroom cuddling or doing other activities that a sfw account will not be speaking on.

but when I say he fights tooth and nail to get you alone time, I mean it

he can and will yell at the senate for an hour or more should they dare say you’re not raising your child properly (because they’re like a toxic in law. Of course the senate would privately tell you you’re not good enough for this. So don’t be shy, be a tattle and tell your scary dragon husband. They’ll keep doing it, but at least you get the pleasure of knowing he spent five hours making them wish they’d actually fucking died.)

N E WAYS

this is all regarding his behavior with OTHERS as a father, now let’s get to the fun part!

how he treats the lil hatchling :3

sweet seven he’s such a good dad. Point blank period.

I wouldn’t say he’s entirely clueless when it comes to raising his children, as he’s had books and study and heirs are a huge part of his role

yk, dwindling bloodline and all

so he is well read on raising baby dragons, and helps you prepare as well.

so he IS book smart…but when it comes to practical hands on stuff- aka actually doing the things he reads about- that’s when he hesitates

and its NOT BC HE DOESNT WANT TO HELP…

its cos he’s scared.

even a baby dragon, he fears he could injure it should he not be careful. And he’s not necessarily wrong.

but that’s okay. Deep breaths and a moment to gather himself and he’s in there

I can envision him ever so delicately brushing your child’s hair when they finally figure out their human form

Or even just changing a little dragon diaper (i would pay to see a baby dragon in a diaper bc in my mind it’s fucking adorable but i digress)

he’s extra extra gentle.

even more gentle than his is with you. And that’s saying something.

on another note, he’d also be very protective

hes patient as ever, of course, but if he sees a certain lion beastmans child getting too cozy with yours…he will overthink

and don’t tell him you had crushes at that age and that it’s normal, because that would only make him feel worse

like, I can genuinely imagine Leona’s son or daughter innocently complimenting your child’s horns and they smile and giggle or even blush…and suddenly both fathers are growling :D

props if your child compliments Leona’s first

like complimenting their fluffy ears? After that ceremonial robes vignette?? I’m sorry but it’s the funniest concept ever

ok ok one more thing

so we’re well aware that malleus literally never got to leave briar valley before

and when he’s king, he won’t be leaving then either unless it’s on government trips for duty. Aka, he’s very limited.

its a good thing you’re around though, because the senate doesn’t give a fuck about you, and you can just sneak the hatchling out on little trips with you!

funded by malleus, guarded by silver or Sebek (or both), malleus would absolutely rest happy knowing your child gets to see the world like he always wanted to.

And if he gets to go with you sometimes, or take you both with him on his trips, he will most definitely find time to sneak out and explore with both of you.

i just know he’d adore having that quality time and getting to give his child the opportunities he could not, AND he gets to do it with you.

their room will be full of pictures and souvenirs, even Lilia would be impressed by the collection

All in all, he’s a good dad. And a happy one. Because for once, he’s not lonely. He’s got a beautiful family, and a beautiful future ahead.

You watched your boyfriend as he tapped the joint against the rim of the ashtray before leaning over you to pass it to his drummer. The openings of the cut-off sleeves of his Led Zepplin tee flashed you the dark ink crawling across his ribs. His rings clinked against Gareth’s in the handover, just loud enough to hear over the mixtape that you’d made for you and Eddie. It wasn’t exactly designed to suit the usual mood when the guys were over– Jeff would usually be there, too– but the two of you had started the evening alone together.

Eddie had been rolling up for the night at his desk when his friend called him. Apparently, Jeff had plans with a friend from work, leaving Gareth woefully bored and lonely; on a Saturday night, no less. It had you both feeling a little sorry for him, so you told Eddie to invite him over. After grumbling under his breath– something about ‘just wanting to fuck his girl in peace’– he begrudgingly did as you suggested and your party of two became three in less than thirty minutes.

You didn’t mind, though. Whoever said two’s company and three’s a crowd must have never spent two hours sitting, drinking, smoking, and talking with Gareth and Eddie.

“Sorry again for crashing your date,” Gareth apologized to you. “If Ed told me you were here, I wouldn’t’ve come.”

Eddie stood to pour a finger or two of whiskey into his Campbell’s Soup mug and you stretched your leg out, using your sock-covered foot to nudge your own mug closer to him. “Oh, so you don’t wanna hang out with me anymore?”

He scoffed, “C’mon, you know I think you’re cool as shit.” After topping off all three drinks, Eddie handed Gareth his. “I just don’t wanna third-wheel you guys too much. ‘S a little rude and pathetic, don’t’cha think?”

The boy took a swallow with a faint grimace, then rolled the desk chair he was sitting in about a foot closer to offer you the joint. “It’s not pathetic, Gare. You’re just hanging out with friends.” The music faded out and your head lolled towards your boyfriend with a lazy grin as “One of These Nights” by Eagles began. He just shook his head at you with a little smirk, biceps flexing as he raised his arms to tie his hair back in a low ponytail. Settling himself on the bed, he let his back rest against the wall as he sat between you and where Gareth sat in his desk chair. 

You took a long drag, eyelids drooping as your head tilted against Eddie’s chest. His eyes roamed your body as it fitted to his. Your shorts were a little shorter than you’d normally wear in front of Gareth, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain as he eyed your bare legs curling over his lap. Smoke billowed slowly from your mouth and the feel of his friend’s gaze on the two of you wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning down to breathe the rest of it in for himself, lips slotting familiarly between your parted ones. From your knee, his hand crawled slowly up the outside of your thigh to your hip. Your own fingers wandered to his exposed ribs, stroking lightly over the small date forever etched into his skin– the date you’d gotten together, almost three years ago now. 

He didn’t tell you he was getting it; he knew you’d tell him not to, that it was a bad omen, but he didn’t believe that. Maybe you’d only been together for a year at the time, but you were a part of him. In fact, he’d wanted to have your name done, but after seeing your reaction to Rick getting his girlfriend’s name tattooed he’d worried you’d tear him a new one for it. Though you had to admit, it had grown on you. Maybe after ten years, you’ll let me add your name, huh babe, he’d said when he first showed you. Now the thought had your thighs squeezing together, the way you both knew you belonged to each other– the way everyone knew.

Gareth certainly knew, unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him though he knew he’d been staring for far too long. Watching Eddie’s teeth tug on your lower lip had him gnawing at the inside of his own. A glimpse of his tongue slipping into your mouth had the younger boy’s palms sweating. It wasn’t until his breath hitched at the sight of his friend’s hand sneaking between your thighs that you finally seemed to remember he was there.

Swatting Eddie’s hands away, you passed the dwindling joint to him and fixed an apologetic look in Gareth’s direction. “Sorry, I’ll make sure he behaves.”

“It’s okay, sorry I uh- interrupted–” He cleared his throat a little awkwardly and cracked his knuckles. “You want me to roll another one?”

“Go for it.”

While he turned around at the desk, Eddie’s mouth was meeting the sensitive flesh below your ear. His tongue grazed your skin and you let out a small gasp before pinching his thigh in warning. He hissed, but that smug little smirk of his remained. 

Meanwhile, Gareth’s shaking hands were struggling not to rip the paper. He could hear all of it, even the occasional wet smack of his best friend’s mouth on your skin. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he shook his head a little and focused on finishing the task at hand. When he finally turned back around, his mouth went dry at the sight before him.

You sat comfortably between Eddie’s legs, back against his chest and head tilted to gaze up at him. He stared back at you with the same adoration, breathing in the last hit and ashing it in the tray on the nightstand. His free hand was halfway up your shirt and Gareth tried not to imagine the way his fingers must be teasing along your ribcage. He could see the blooming spot of red in the crook of your neck– which definitely wasn’t there before– slowly growing darker. So much for making sure he behaves. 

He handed Eddie the joint and lighter which earned him a crooked grin and a “good man.” He watched him place it between your lips instead, lighting it for you as the shape of his other hand moved higher beneath your baggy t-shirt. Still, he could make out how the older boy kneaded at one of your breasts beneath the fabric until you swatted at him yet again. His throat grew tight and he could only hope and pray that neither of you noticed his pants doing the same.

The two of you had always been a little handsy, and he couldn’t deny that part of him always had some trouble keeping his eyes away, but something was different tonight. Maybe you were acting a little more intimate, maybe it was the heady music you’d been playing all night– hell, maybe he was just too fucking crossed– but it was different. He was one second away from having a nervous breakdown or busting in his jeans.

Suddenly, he was struck by the deep twang of “I Want You” by The Beatles beginning. Eddie’s head fell back against the wall with a thud, “Mmm, I fuckin’ love this song. Y’know that, Gareth? She loves this song too, don’t you, sweetheart? S’that why you put it on here?”

“Shut up.” You weakly elbowed him, but both boys still caught the way your thighs squeezed together.

He chuckled, his nose dragging along your cheek as he murmured, “Yeah. My sweet girl wanted me to fuck her to this song tonight, didn’t you, baby? This one always makes her shake.” Your stomach flipped nervously as your wide eyes were forced to meet Gareth’s, your bewildered expression mirrored on his face. He went on. “Maybe we should show him, hm? I mean, since he feels so guilty ‘interrupting’ us and all. What d’you think?”

Gareth was starting to think the dream-like quality of the night was because he actually was dreaming. This is Eddie Munson. The same Eddie Munson who almost knocked a middle-aged man’s teeth out for whistling at you three months into your relationship. And now, what? He wanted to–

“Y’gonna let me fuck you in front of ‘im, sweetheart?”

By your deer-in-the-headlights expression, Gareth would assume you were just as shocked by this turn of events as he was– which you partially were. You and Eddie had mentioned once or twice the idea of letting someone watch, Gareth’s name had even been thrown around when discussing the subject over a packed bowl, but you’d had no idea he had been considering it so seriously. Still, you couldn’t deny the way Eddie’s words made the heat between your legs throb. Glancing up to meet his eyes with uncertainty, you bashfully whispered, “I-I don’t know if Gareth wants that, Eds.” 

Your boyfriend’s smirk only grew, fingers teasing at the waist of your shorts. “Don’t worry, babe, Gareth’s a dirty little pervert just like me. I mean, he’s been hard for twenty minutes.”

Finally, you glanced over at the boy in question whose face was now redder than you’d ever seen before, and his eyes immediately shot to the floor. He looked like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Knock it off, you’re embarrassing him. S’okay, Gare. You’re allowed to look.”

Hesitantly, he lifted his head and his heart could’ve stopped. Eddie was tilting your chin towards him for a kiss with one hand as the other worked its way into your shorts. The glimmer of his rings in the low light caught the younger boy’s attention, eyes following them down your throat until they disappeared beneath your shirt once again. Lips leaving your boyfriend’s, you turned to him and held out the joint that had apparently stopped burning. “Wanna come get this?”

He hoped you didn’t hear the shaky breath he let out as he willed his knees not to give out and stood from his seat at the desk. “Y’sure you don’t just want me to l-light it for you?” The faint tremble in his voice matched the one in his hand as he took it from you, embarrassment warming his cheeks.

You must have noticed as you replied, “S’okay. You clearly need it more than I do, honey.” His face only grew hotter as he clocked your eyes lingering on the obvious tent in his jeans. 

Finally speaking up again, Eddie chimed, “Seriously, man. Relax a little.”

In disbelief, Gareth faintly laughed out, “Right.” Dropping back down into the desk chair, he watched you and Eddie exchange a long look, almost like some form of confirmation. A check-in. He’d always admired how the two of you communicated so effortlessly. Frankly, he admired many facets of your relationship. He and Jeff had talked more than once about how they hoped they’d be lucky enough to find a connection like yours and Eddie’s. Still, he couldn’t believe you trusted each other enough for this– that you both trusted him enough for this.

Brain still cloudy with shock, he briefly glanced around his friend’s bedroom. Almost like he had to make sure he was really there. This was really happening. While Eddie was already attempting to peel your shorts off, you refused to assist him. Gareth’s fingers clutched at the arms of the chair as you graced him with your soft gaze instead. “You sure you’re not uncomfortable, Gare? You’re okay with this?”

Simply nodding dumbly in response, he was shocked when Eddie corrected him; “Use your words, Gareth.” He said it casually, but there was a subtle firmness behind it— one he wasn’t sure he had ever heard Eddie use before, especially toward him.

What shocked him more was the way he found his body tensing in response. Afraid the words wouldn’t come out, he sheepishly cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, I’m good. Swear.” God, could his face flush any redder? 

Your boyfriend finally forced you to lift your hips from the bed, allowing him to shove your shorts down your legs. His hands eased along your inner thighs, spreading your legs and hooking one of them over his to keep them open. Gareth was just barely able to make out the faint wet spot beginning to form on your underwear. He had to resist the urge to lean in for a closer look like some teenager watching his first porno. Eddie’s ever-wandering fingers eased over that wet spot, rubbing in soft circles around your clit.

Puffing out a soft breath from your nose, you sank further into his chest. “Feels good, huh, baby? All worked up already ‘n I’ve hardly even touched you. That excited to show off your pretty little pussy?”

“Eddieee,” You grumbled, trying again to hide your face in his chest. 

“Don’t be so embarrassed, Gareth is even more excited than you are.” Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, he asked, “How ‘bout we give him some more to work with, hm?” Taking them off, he tossed them to his friend. Said friend was a goner. He blamed his crossfaded state of autopilot for the way he instantly lifted the material to his nose and took a deep breath. Eddie chuckled, “Told ya he was a perv.”

Gareth subtly palmed at his length, practically gnawing at his lower lip as he fought not to make a sound– God forbid he interrupt as Eddie spread your legs wide, giving him an unobstructed view of your dripping pussy. Fuck, he might as well have been drooling on the floor. He could hear your wetness as your boyfriend slipped his fingers between your slick-covered lips, easing around your clit a few times. Stuck in his glassy-eyed stare, he didn’t mean to let out a broken whimper as Eddie sank two fingers inside you.

Just as he was afraid of, the older boy instantly narrowed his gaze in his direction. “Oh, we’ve got our boy on the edge of his seat right now, baby. It’s okay, Gare. I know you’ve never seen anything like my girl before, you can take your cock out. Just keep your hands to yourself.”

The way Eddie spoke to him made his whole body blaze with shame, but he still found himself doing as he was told. When he looked at you again you were watching him fumble with his belt, button, and zipper. Finally freeing himself from the confines of his jeans, his cock twitched in his hand at the sight of the intrigue in your eyes, your tongue grazing across your lower lip. You clutched at Eddie’s bicep with a soft moan, walls clenching around his fingers.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Gettin’ all wet for my best friend’s dick?” His free hand grabbed your face, your cheeks squishing under his grip. “Didn’t know my sweet girl was that fuckin’ filthy.” You whined at the sudden emptiness as Eddie withdrew his hand from between your thighs, patting your leg with a soft murmur. “On your stomach, babe.” Obediently, you rolled over and he followed, kneeling behind you to grip your hips and lift them from the bed. “‘Atta girl.”

Your face warmed as you and Gareth looked at each other– you on your knees with your chest flush to the mattress and him with his pants just below his hips, his hand fisting his cock. Then Eddie’s fingers were knuckle-deep inside you again, curling into spots that only he had ever been able to find. Your hand shot back to grab at his thigh and you let out a surprised, gasping moan. “Daddy…”

While Gareth let out a quiet groan, Eddie just gave a low, condescending laugh. “Aw, sweetheart. I wasn’t even gonna tell ‘im. I didn’t wanna embarrass you too much, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Letting out little puffy breaths, your eyes welled with tears. Normally he would take this as an excuse to tease you further, but he didn’t want you getting too worked up with the added pressure of his friend’s presence. His hand rubbed soothingly over your back, “My little crybaby. It’s okay, Daddy’s here.” Your body relaxed, spine sinking deeper into its arch as his touch warmed your skin. “Would ya look at that?” Not that he had to ask; Gareth couldn’t stop looking. “She’s just such a sweet girl for me. Ain’t that right, baby? And so pretty. One of a kind, my girl.”

Taking in the scene before him, Gareth could only hope that wasn’t true. Because he wanted you– no, he wanted this. This thing, this passion and love that you two have for each other. Even as obscene a display as it was, he felt like he was witnessing something sacred, something holy. He was blessed further when Eddie brought you back to stand on your knees, your back to his chest as he lifted your shirt over your head.

Completely bare for both of them to gawk at, you were pointedly aware of your boyfriend’s fully clothed form behind you. He pinched teasingly at your nipple, making you arch further into him and grab at the hem of his shirt. Clawing for the skin just beneath it, you finally pleaded, “Take your clothes off.”

His eyes narrowed playfully; he just couldn’t help himself. “What do you say?”

“Please, Daddy,” You whined quietly with a pout.

With a quick wink and a crooked smirk, he crossed his arms to pull the ragged material over his head. You didn’t hesitate to seek out any inch of skin you could touch, a tremble licking down your spine as the soft warmth of his bare chest molded to it. Hands still pawing at your tits, his mouth worked its way down the length of your neck. “I love you,” He murmured against your shoulder, tone playful but still drenched in adoration.

“Love you more, Eddie.” 

“Impossible,” He whispered in return before leaving one more kiss. “Now, back down.” Goosebumps erupted at the touch of his rings on your back, guiding you down until your chest met his bed once again. “Isn’t she such a good listener?”

Gareth was almost nervous to say anything– like any answer he gave could be the wrong one, and the wrong one might get the shit knocked out of him. So, why did his stomach tighten when Eddie looked at him expectantly for an answer? “So good.”

“Just wait til you hear how she sounds.” Eddie finally pushed his sweatpants down to his thighs, rubbing the head of his cock through your wetness and drawing a surprised gasp from you. “You ready for me, baby?”

“Yes,” You breathed out impatiently.

Finally sinking inside, he didn’t stop until his hips were flush with your ass. Gareth’s hand stilled, fingers tightened around the base of his length to keep from coming too soon. Each slow thrust pushed your hips forward, emphasizing the perfect arch of your back. Your eyebrows were furrowed slightly, but he could still hear your moans from behind the pillow you were clutching. That didn’t last long as your boyfriend laced a hand into your hair, pulling your head back just enough to uncover your mouth. “Don’t hide those pretty sounds, babe. We wanna hear ‘em.” 

Eddie. His best friend, his brother, his mentor, his frontman, his dungeon master. He had never thought of Eddie like this. He had never seen Eddie like this. His frizzy curls falling out of the messy ponytail at the nape of his neck, tattoos on display, muscles in his arm flexing as he gripped your hair. Sure, he’d always thought he was a pretty good-looking guy, but now Gareth was beginning to wonder how he hadn’t thought about this before.

And the two of you together? Christ, you were a work of art. He wanted to frame this moment– capture it, bottle it, sear it into his brain so he’d remember every detail exactly as it was. The way the flesh of your thighs trembled with every movement, how Eddie’s sweat mixed with yours to make your skin glisten in the dim glow of the lamps, all of it made his body burn with need. Then Eddie was speaking again.

“God, you always feel so fucking good. My girl, made just f’me, huh?”

“Yes, Daddy,” You breathed out with a whimper. “Fuck, you’re s’deep.”

“I know, baby. I know,” He cooed sympathetically. “You c’n take it, though. Always do, don’t you?”

Gareth could see how your wetness further matted the dark hair around the base of Eddie’s length with every thrust, how the slick was just beginning to reach your thighs. Each moan you let out was more broken and drawn out than the last. That was until Eddie’s hand settled around your throat, urging you to lean back into him once more, and your moans turned to shaky, gasping whines. The ringed fingers of his other hand squeezed at your breast before mapping a path directly to your clit, circling it with practiced precision. With the way your stomach trembled in response, the boy didn’t think you’d last much longer. 

He almost thought he’d spoken his thoughts aloud when Eddie asked, “Aw, you gettin’ close already? C’n feel it, baby. Having an audience really working you up that much?” He grasped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Knew you were my little freak, sweetheart, but c’mon. You’re just as dirty as me and Gare.” Gareth himself felt guilty with how your face crumpled in shame, but Eddie only smirked as he kissed your temple and inched his hand lower to squeeze at the sides of your throat. “It’s okay, baby. You’re bein’ such a good girl for Daddy. So, so good f’me. Just need you to come for me now.”

Red lines and crescent-shaped indents littered his arms as you uselessly pleaded for exactly what he was already giving you. Your head fell to the side only for you to lock eyes with Gareth, though he didn’t seem to be in much better shape than you were. The pale sliver of his chest that was visible had turned the same vibrant red his cheeks had been all night. His hand, fisted tightly around his cock, was moving in time with Eddie’s thrusts as arousal all but dripped over his knuckles. The sight ripped another shuddering moan from you.

Darkness encroached on the edges of your vision as Eddie finally felt your walls spasm around him. Your nails bit into his skin so hard it nearly broke, but it only encouraged him to hold you tighter as you tensed in his arms. “Fuck yes, there it is. Feel so fuckin’ good when you’re comin’ around me, sweetheart.”

“Eddie,” You cried, “Please. Come inside me, I need it.” 

Though he tried to hold it back, a ragged groan tore itself from Gareth’s throat. Spurts of come stained his shirt as he fought to keep his eyes on the scene before him, but he couldn’t help but let his head fall back against the seat. He’d never felt so good. His veins were thrumming with weed and whiskey, so much so that the room still spun when he closed his eyes. But the pleasure still throbbing dully through his body like an ache wasn’t from the booze or the joints. 

The blurriness cleared from his vision just in time to watch Eddie pull you in for a messy, desperate kiss. One hand cradled your jaw while the other clutched at your hip, pressing himself as deep inside of you as possible as he came. 

Quiet sighs and pants filled the room as the three of you collectively caught your breath. Gareth just watched as you both melted into one another. Eddie’s palms soothed over every inch of your skin he could reach, and he whispered one last crazy idea in your ear– one that was somehow even crazier than the idea that had brought you all to this moment. Though the suggestion made your eyes widen and your stomach tie itself in a knot, the way you clenched around him in response compelled you to agree.

Carefully pulling out he planted one last kiss on your shoulder, allowing you to lay back against the pillows as he fixed his sweats and turned to his friend who still seemed to be recovering. “How ‘bout you come ‘n help me clean her up, Gare?” 

The boy froze in his seat, length twitching where he’d tucked himself back into his unzipped jeans. “W-What?”

“Before I change my mind,” Eddie singsonged simply in return.

Limbs weak, he quickly stood from the desk chair, sending it knocking back into the desk. Hesitantly, his knee met the edge of the mattress and he looked between the two of you for reassurance.

“It’s okay, Gareth,” You murmured softly. “As long as you’re okay.”

“Did so good for us,” Eddie cooed in agreement. He stared as his drummer slowly knelt between his girlfriend’s spread thighs, fingers winding into the boy’s hair encouragingly. “Thought you deserved a little treat.”

Gareth’s heavy eyes fell shut when he finally had the taste of you– of both of you– on his tongue, lapping up your shared mess before sinking inside. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips and thighs as he mouthed urgently at your wetness. “Tastes so good,” He panted into your skin.

“What does?” Your boyfriend asked, giving his unruly locks a little tug. “Her come, or mine?”

He only moaned in answer, tongue laving over your abused clit.

It felt wrong, looking down and seeing someone else’s head between your legs, but it only made that coil in your stomach grow even tighter. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“Ah, ah, don’t be rude, baby. It’s not me this time. Let ‘im hear you say his name.”

A humiliated whine escaped you, as though admitting it aloud was more shameful than inviting him to do it in the first place. “Gareth,” You finally moaned out pitifully, your hand winding into his hair alongside Eddie’s. “You’re gonna make me come again.”

“Oh, he’d be fucking honored, babe,” Eddie chuckled smugly. Leaning over you, he left a slow, deep kiss on your lips before dipping lower to your breasts. His tongue teased at your nipple before his lips wrapped around it completely, calloused fingers finding the other. He only pulled back briefly to murmur, “Go on, sweetheart. Come for us.”

The feeling of two mouths, two sets of wandering hands, was overwhelming. Your thighs closed around Gareth’s head as your hands wound into both his hair and Eddie’s. He could feel your walls clench and your clit throb against his tongue and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He would’ve happily stayed there forever, drunkenly licking up every drop of tangy arousal that you released, but as your muscles began to twitch, Eddie gave one final pull to his hair that let him know his fun was over.

For a moment, it was quiet save for the low, bassy thrum of the music still playing. Then Eddie was up, grabbing a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweats and pressing them against Gareth’s chest for him to take. “You did good, Gare. Real good, alright?” He rubbed a hand over the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “Go ahead to the bathroom ‘n get cleaned up, ‘kay? We’ll get you settled in for the night.” Cheeks warm from the praise, Gareth just nodded, heading for the hallway while you and Eddie finally got a second alone. Gazing down at you, he brushed your hair back from your face, trying to read every facet of your expression. “Are you okay? I didn’t push you too hard, did I? That wasn’t too much?”

“No, Eds, I’m okay. I liked it, it was good.” You nodded reassuringly. Still, he raised an eyebrow questioningly, holding out his pinkie which you locked yours with. “Promise,” You whispered. “Are you sure Gareth’s okay, though? Things won’t be weird with him from now on?”

“No, baby, I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.” He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and grabbed you a bottle of water from the nightstand. “‘M gonna go make him a bed on the couch, alright? I’ll be right back.” You pouted out your lips for one last peck but let him go out to the living room while you gingerly got up to put clothes on.

Eddie was spreading a blanket over the couch when Gareth finally came out of the bathroom. On the table beside him sat a bag of chips, a bottle of water, and a couple of Tylenol. Sitting down, he patted the space to his left and asked, “You okay? I should’a talked to you both more before I dove into all that, I’m sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologize–” He took a much-needed drink of water and shook his head. “Trust me, I-I had…I had a great time. And I won’t make things weird, or like– tell anybody, I swear. I’m sure it’ll all be fuzzy in the morning anyway. Did you guys…?” 

“We had fun, man, don’t sweat it.”

“Oh, we definitely had fun,” You agreed as you joined them. You settled on Gareth’s other side, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Thanks for being so cool about everything, I don’t think we could’ve trusted the other guys with something like this.”

“Well, thank you for trusting me,” He answered gratefully. 

“My right-hand man,” Eddie reminded him as he stood, clapping a hand over his shoulder. 

You playfully rolled your eyes at the sentiment, but kept a good-natured smile as you leaned over to peck the boy’s cheek. “Get some sleep, alright? Sweet dreams, Gare.”

As if anything could be sweeter than the taste of the two of you still lingering on his tongue when he closed his eyes and drifted off.

part two

<3

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His favourite part has got to be when he plays so hard that he doesn’t even notice the world is waking up. The moment Jungkook looks up and sees the sunrise—he always gets this feeling in the pit of his stomach. It’s an easiness that can’t be explained.

It’s an incredible relief. 

When he sees the sun, he stops playing. He takes a break and sits down to watch the sun bloom on the horizon. There’s so much bliss in the stillness of the world. He feels so much clarity when it’s just him, the net, and the ball. It’s like nothing else matters and his mind can focus on one thing: winning.

Jungkook has only done these late-night sessions a handful of times in his life. 

The first time was the day before Uni tryouts and he doubted his talent. Everyone kept telling him he had nothing to worry about, but that didn’t make him feel any better. To Jungkook, his luck was just like everybody’s. He was afraid of it not coming through when he needed it the most. Therefore, he worked his ass off regardless of his luck history. 

Note: Jungkook was the first in his year to get in. 

The second time was when he fucked up at a game and cost his team a minor setback. It wasn’t the end of the world—he just felt like shit.

The third time was the day he redeemed himself and scored the winning goal that got the team to championships. It was the best game he had in a while. It was also the first time felt tired of it. Tired of the game, tired of the play… Just tired. 

The fourth time was when he decided to take a break from soccer and tend to his burnout… Eventually, he came back after a few months. Of course, he did. He loves soccer more than anything in the world…

That was until you.

He didn’t go back to the field and have a session to himself to celebrate. No, he celebrated with you instead. You didn’t know and he never told you… But that’s what he did. The first day he came back to soccer, he went to you right after. With you, he found rest. 

That’s when he realized something… 

He wasn’t tired anymore.

At least, whenever he was with you.

He wasn’t tired. That’s all he could really ask for, right? To fall in love with someone that was his safety net. 

The fifth time would be today. 

Jungkook has been out here since 3AM, kicking the ball and practicing drills. It upset him, to be honest. He thought being here would help ease his heart. Everything feels so clogged up and messy to him. It’s like no matter what he does to try to clean up his mess, everything stains. So, he thinks to himself that maybe if he ran enough laps or kicked the ball hard enough—it would stop.

The mess. 

The yearning.

The loving. 

But it doesn’t.

No, instead his heart continues to ache. As he clenches it every so often, he thinks of you. Then, for a second, his heart is still. In the stillness, he tries to think of good things around him. 

At least the rain wasn’t pouring as hard as it was an hour ago.

At least the sun is coming up and it’s a new day. 

At least you were here—

Wait. 

You’re here?

Jungkook rubs his eyes. Partly due to disbelief and partly because the rain made it hard to see you clearly. Yet, somehow… In his heart, he knows it. He knows it’s you. 

How’d you know where he was? More importantly, why are you here? 

Why was his heart racing so fast again? 

Be still. 

He isn’t sure of what to do. Should he wave? Should he call your name? Are you here on accident? 

Considering it’s almost 6AM… It can’t be an accident, right?

Just as much as Jungkook’s head begins to fill with questions, yours does too. As you walk closer and closer to him, you can’t help but only hear your heartbeat pound louder and louder. Is this normal? To feel like your heart could jump out of your chest if it meant getting to him faster? You let your mind spin. 

Why the fuck are you here? 

What are you doing again?

Did you write everything down?

You sure felt a lot braver ten minutes ago… Suddenly, seeing him has made you doubt all the courage you worked to have for this moment. At the same time, the complex feeling of pure happiness and relief blossoms. You can’t help but smile at the sight of him. There’s a stillness in the world and it’s only when you look at him and it’s good. You know that now… But oh my god. 

You’re about to lose your shit. 

How did you get here?

When did it all begin? 

Was it from the first night you two slept together? Or was it the karaoke night when you realized you were waiting for him to kiss you? Could it be time he fucked you in front of your mirror and you vowed to never drink coffee before meeting up with him ever again? 

… No. 

Maybe it was when Mina came along. 

You gave him a blowjob just to stall him from going (bad move, by the way. That was pretty bitchy). Oh, and we can’t forget about the time you craved him when you were drunk out of your mind and all he did was take care of you. Half asleep, you woke up to him mounting your mirror on the wall… And well, maybe…

Maybe it was then. 

When he fixed your mirror, he fixed your heart. 

That’s probably why the time you two hooked up in his bedroom at the party felt so right. It was finally clicking.

You were into him then.

You just didn’t know how to admit it. Then, it got fucked up because you were caught off guard. 

The perilla leaf.

The exile. 

The hate sex. 

Everything good and bad has led to this moment and you can’t help but feel like you’re falling apart. Finding the origin of it all feels exhausting… In your head, you debate it all. In your heart, you’ve always known. 

You see, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. 

The friendship, the sleeping with him, the hurting him—the loving him… It wasn’t supposed to do this to you. You aren’t supposed to be this nervous and so impatient at the same time. You aren’t supposed to feel this stupid either… 

But you do. 

… And that’s okay. 

Sometimes, with love, you’re going to feel a little stupid. You just have to cross your fingers and hope the person you’re being stupid for is just as stupid as you. 

In your case… There’s a good chance he is. 

As you stand on the sidelines, Jungkook places his hand over his eyes to see you clearer. He tilts his head in confusion as you drop your bag. 

Then, just like that…

It happens. 

His thoughts pause, his heart goes still for the nth time, and his world slows down as he takes in the sight of you. Nothing will ever be better than this. The same way he feels an ease when he watches the sunrise—he feels it as he looks at you right now. 

God, he loves you so much. 

He has known it for so long but this… You in this moment; it’s bliss. 

Complete and utter bliss. 

If that isn’t enough… His heart is completely undone the moment he realizes two things: one, you’re wearing his jersey, and two; you’re holding a towel in your arms for him. He can’t help but let a laugh escape his lips. All that shit you said about how you would never be a part of his fan club and how you could never be that girl…

Oh, this is gold. 

Honestly, it’s more than enough. For you to show up and make this effort—it fills his heart. Yet, you’re you. Always full of surprises and ways of making his heart go on overdrive. As he sinks in his thoughts and soaks this moment in; he watches you take a deep breath. Then, slowly but surely, you extend your hand out to him. 

It’s then when he knows it. 

The wait was worth it.

The wait is over.

You and Jungkook sit on a bench, under the technical area’s cover. For a while, you two watch the sunrise in silence. Both too afraid to say anything to ruin the moment—both so undoubtedly in love. Once the sun is fully up, you brace yourself. 

This is it. 

Jungkook turns to you, chasing your eyes. 

“You nervous or something?” he jokes, as he begins to dry his hair with the towel you placed around his neck. 

“Yeah,” you confide. “Am I doing this right?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen as you scoot closer to him and take the towel. In your continued silence, you take over and start to dry his hair. Scrunching the towel, you pat dry his neck and cheeks. He gulps, unsure of what to do… He likes it though. He likes that you’re taking care of him and that you’re trying. He knows you are. 

As you pat dry him, you try to find your words. It takes a moment, but you think to yourself… It’s now or never, right? You’re already here. You’ve already folded. 

It catches Jungkook off guard when you suddenly tug him close. Putting the towel aside, you cup his cheeks with your hands. Your hands are cold, but he doesn’t mind. If anything, he’s holding himself back from kissing them. With a pout on your lips, you begin your confession. 

“I hate being your friend.” 

Jungkook squints at you and chuckles. He removes your hands from his cheeks, smirking at you. “What bullshit are you on now? Didn’t we agree on—”

“I never agreed,” your eyebrows knit together. “It’s been like… A day and a half and I’m going crazy being your stupid friend.”

“Fine,” he snaps. “Enemies?”

His suggestion annoys you.

You lift your hand to hit him, but he catches your wrist. Then, he opens his hands for you. You sigh teasingly but take it. Intertwining your fingers together, you two sit in silence again for a moment. 

Holding hands, watching as the rain pours, and preparing to give your hearts to one another… It feels like this could be a dream.

“Tae and Yuna, ” you begin, breaking the silence. Your voice sounds weary and desperate. “They’ve been friends since the very beginning. He always had feelings for her and she did too… But she didn’t do anything about it until it was too late. He’s dating Mina’s friend now or something—it’s so messed up. It’s so unfair, y-you know? They deserve each other so much and I—”

“Breathe,” Jungkook comforts you. “They’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t want that to be us,” you blurt. 

Jungkook blinks at you. 

“It’s so scary. Jungkook, I don’t want that to be us… B-but it is us, isn’t it? Y-you hate me because of—“

His eyebrows knit together. “___, I don’t hate you. Don’t say that.”

Your lips quiver, unsure of how to navigate through this talk. Maybe you should have planned it better. Maybe you should have written this whole speech out instead of word-vomiting like this… But that’s the thing. 

You aren’t good at this.

Regardless, you’ll try for him.

“I’ve been selfish,” you admit, letting your eyes dart to the field. You can’t look at him. It feels too overwhelming to.  “I’ve been inconsiderate and I know I can’t justify my actions because they hurt you—I just need you to know that I was scared. It was so scary trusting you, falling asleep beside you, and waking up next to you. It was so scary watching you laugh with other girls and not knowing how to tell you how I felt… I’m sorry I started fights while trying to figure out how I felt about myself… Honestly? I think I was so scared because you made it so easy.”

A beat.

“T-the truth is… I’ve always known how I felt about you.” 

Jungkook can’t help but smile. He wonders if you know what you’re doing to him… Do you? He’s afraid you don’t.

“Really?” he pries, moving closer to you. “How do you feel about me?”

Attempting to be intimidating, you turn to face him with a glare. 

“D-don’t push it.”

Jungkook pouts. “But I want to know… Please, please, please?”

For a moment you contemplate. Then, you look at him and take it all in. His wet hair, soft eyes, and pouting lips… How were you ever strong enough to say no to him before? Truly, you’re a changed woman.

Curling your fist, you shut your eyes and say it. You tell him the whole truth. 

You give him your heart. 

“You said you got ahead of yourself… But have you ever considered that I was beside you the entire time? L-like you said you’ve had feelings for me since the first time you made me laugh… Me too. I knew it then too. I just didn’t know what to do because every time I dated guys, it all felt the same… With you, it was different from the start. I don’t know how to explain it… All I know is that I like you in every way it’s possible to like someone—I like you. My heart has been yours all along. I’m sorry it took me so long to give it to you. It just felt like everything with you kept falling into place and I was terrified I was f-falling too… I think—n-no, I… Umm, I know that I…”

Something others may not know about Jungkook is that he’s consistently bad at one thing. That one thing is playing it cool when it comes to you. He has to fight his inner demons to stop himself from professing his love for you every 10 minutes. So, it would be a lie that he wasn’t loving this. He loves watching you feel what he feels. 

Your words, sweet and well-awaited, completely captivate him. 

He can’t help it when you’re like this. So perfect, so cute, so his. He can’t resist!

Which is why he kisses you mid-confession. 

Jungkook kisses you slowly and deeply. Like never before, you lose your breath from how passionately he kisses you. Once you two pull away, he rests his forehead against yours. Smiling, he sneaks in a couple more kisses. 

Timidly, you say, “So… You aren’t mad at me anymore?”

With a laugh, Jungkook shakes his head. “God, you drive me crazy.”

“So… That’s a no, right?” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes and purses his lips. You press your lips against them and kiss him once more. 

“___?”

“Y-yeah?”

“... I checked my phone a moment ago and Yuna ratted you out. She texted me like ten minutes before you came. Said if you don't show up I should knock on your door and fuck your feelings out of you.” You gasp, burying your face with your hands. Sighly dramatically, Jungkook makes a cheeky comment. “Once again, I waited for you.” 

You hit his chest playfully. In pure disbelief, you groan at him. “What? Y-you knew and still made me do the whole speech—”

"I didn’t know!” You ignore his claim. “Although, I wouldn't have had any issue fucking the feelings out of you—"

"Are you insane?" you fume. "I was literally sick to my stomach trying to get this confession thing done right!"

“I was excited!” He teases, and nudges you. You remain annoyed at him. Jungkook can’t help but find it cute. “Awh, ___! Come on. It’s not every day that a guy gets to see his girl in his jersey, holding a towel for him on the sidelines! Also… I just really wanted to see what all your fuss was about. I promise, I didn’t know.”

It’s too late. 

Just as you stand up and storm away from the embrassment, Jungkook catches up to you. Out on the field, the rain continues to pour on you two. Drying him off was useless if you were going to be this dramatic. 

As he catches your wrist, you shove him away and cross your arms. 

“I feel stupid,” you sigh. “Y-you knew how I felt about you. I was worried and anxious the entire time and y-you knew!” 

Jungkook shuts his eyes and can’t believe how feisty you are. It’s entertaining and frustrating at the same time. God, you were so complex… But at the same time, he knows you’re just afraid. This is you finding an out. This is also you trying to stay. 

He takes your hand. 

You don’t shake him off say anything. 

You let him take it. 

He holds it like it’s all he has ever wanted to do (it is all he has ever wanted to do).

“I didn’t know everything! Hey, the fuss was cute,” he ensures you. “Do it again.”

“No!” you cry, feeling your clothes start to stick to your skin. It’s pouring now and you instantly regret being dramatic.

Except, Jungkook looks so perfect. His hair is wet and his shirt is soaked so you can see the way his muscles curve. He’s so handsome that you have to gather all your strength as a woman to keep yourself from jumping on him.

“This shit is so hard!” you complain through the rain. “How did you do this? You confessed like every time we fucked—”

“Yah!” Jungkook warns, feeling a little embarrassed. Maybe he should be the one to storm away now…  “Be nice to me or else I’m about to reject you.”

You roll your eyes at him. Grabbing him by the collar, you tug him to your eye level. Happily, he complies. 

“Do it then,” you call his bluff. “Reject me right now.”

Jungkook looks into your eyes, loving the way you look at him. He blinks at you slowly and bites his inner cheek. For a moment, he’s silent. You’d think he’s contemplating or something… But he’s not. He’s been sure about you since your first laugh, remember?

“Kinda cruel considering you’re all I’ve been waiting for,” Jungkook confesses, as he dips his head low and kisses you. 

As he kisses you, you squeeze his hand. Holding his hand tighter, he smiles into the kiss. The rain continues to pour, making everything feel unreal. As he pulls away, he looks at you the way he always has… This time, you get what Yuna was talking about.

The warmth in his gaze.

The love in it.

The you in it.

After what felt like endless heartache with other boys—this felt healing. 

This was yours. 

Him. 

And that’s when your heart tells you something you never knew… 

You waited well too. 

You two escape the rain and make it to your place.

In your bedroom, you quickly get undressed and sit in front of your mirror to dry your hair. Jungkook comes out of the washroom all clean. Passing by you, he plants a kiss on the top of your head. You watch from the mirror as he reaches inside your closet for one of his shirts. 

Your high from the moment at the field suddenly dies. Suddenly, you realize the confession wasn’t enough to move forward. For fucks sake, he has his clothes in your closet.

“Jungkook?” you ask cutely.

“Mhmm?” he responds as he dresses himself.

You almost choke on your words. “What are we?” 

He grins, coming back to you and swaying you side to side. Without batting an eye, he answers: “friends, of course!”

Instantly, you push him away. Your shoulders slump as you glare at him. He laughs his ass off, loving the way you reacted. When he calms down, he kneels in front of you and apologizes. 

“Okay, bestie,” you play along as he gets up. “Should we eat perilla leaves to celebrate?” 

Jungkook’s mouth drops. His eye practically twitches at the mention of perilla leaves.

Throwing his hands up dramatically, he cries, “Oh god... My girlfriend is so mean to me… She’s so hot, holy shit.”

Girlfriend.

That sounds about right.

He’s so big. 

Sometimes, you forget that.

It slips your mind because Jungkook has always been a giver. You never really had to worry about it being uncomfortable. He makes sure you cum first and always puts his needs above yours—tonight was a prime example of just that. 

As he towers over you, he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your lips. Each kiss is so soft and intimate, your pussy clenches at his very touch. It doesn’t help when he places his thumb on your clit, rubbing and stretching it out to stimulate you even more. As you moan into his ear, he feels shivers go down his back. 

You gasp as he bites your skin, enticing you to want him even more. 

“Jungkook,” you breathe, “put it in, please.”

“Mhmm,” he moves the hair strands on your face and kisses you. “Be good for me, okay? Be patient. Gonna fuck you good so I need you to be on your best behaviour.”

“B-best behaviour,” you repeat rather lewdly. “Okay… W-whatever you want, love. You have it. You have me.”

Love.

God, you and your fucking words.

Jungkook bites his bottom lip, trying his best to take his time. Truth be told, he wants to fuck you silly right now. He wants you so bad that your legs won’t work and he’ll have to tend to your soreness. He wants to fuck you so good that you scream his name and lose yourself in him… But he’ll take his time tonight. 

He wants to show you so much. He wants to show you how good he can make you feel. How you won’t ever regret your decision of being with him. He wants to show you what kind of man you chose and what kind of man you get to have.

A good man.

A man that has wanted you for so long that now that he has you—oh was he ready to drag it out.

Jungkook gently places his dick in between your folds. It’s hard and thick. You can feel it against your wet pussy and want nothing more than for him to put it in. Instead, Jungkook lifts himself and sits in between your legs. There, he holds the base of his cock and slaps it against your pussy. He rubs his cock up and down your folds. Then, he splits them open with his fingers and spits on it. He then spreads his spit with his cock. You feel so lucky when he pokes it inside once in a while. Like a tease, he takes it out so quickly that you begin to feel frustrated. 

“P-put it in, please…”

Jungkook smirks. 

“Put what in?”

You glare at him.

“Your hard, thick, stupid cock. Put it in my wet, needy, desperate pussy right now… Please?”

Jungkook lets out a sexy chuckle. “Not yet,” he tells you, as he fully stops. He then moves over and helps you sit up. Leaning against your headboard, he spreads your legs. Just when you think you can predict his next move, he reaches over to your nightstand and grabs his phone. Unlocking it, he passes it to you.

“Film me.”

You nod, following his orders.

Tapping record, you angle the camera to your pussy. You watch through the phone screen as Jungkook positions his face in between your legs. Gulping, you throw your head back as he makes his first lick. 

Jungkook holds onto your thighs, helping you keep your legs open. He digs himself into your pussy, devouring every inch of it. To deepen himself, he digs his nose in and curls his tongue as he licks you. When he pulls away for air, he sucks on your clit making sure to keep you on your toes. 

“Oohhh,” you sob. “S-so good. J-Jungkook—“

“Mhmm,” he murmurs onto your skin. “Tastes so good.”

“A-aghhh! Oh my god!”

The thing is… Jungkook has eaten you out before.

But this was different.

It was slow and sensual. The way he licks you and eats you out just feels so surreal. Your toes curl, your stomach winces, and your pussy tightens as you’re about to climax—

Jungkook pulls away. 

He has a devilish look on his face. You stop the recording and toss his phone aside. Suddenly, he takes hold of your ankles and tugs you down. On your back, you open your arms and welcome him in again. Gladly, he buries himself in your breasts and moans at your softness. 

“That was—“

“Everything my girl deserves,” he tells you sweetly. “My girl…”

“Your girl,” you pull him in for a kiss. “All yours..”

Jungkook moans, unable to stop himself. He lifts his hips, making space for him to quickly pump his cock before guiding it inside you.

… And oh my god.

He feels so good.

Him inside you is so fulfilling and healing. 

“You okay?”

You nod, mesmorized by the man he is.

“More than.”

With that, Jungkook kisses you and begins to fuck you. He thrusts in and out, making you feel his entire length with each stroke. Your body takes him in as if it’s welcoming him home. As he feeds you your craving, he picks up the pace. You wrap your legs around him, moaning from how good it feels as he buries himself in you. 

“F-fuck,” Jungkook hisses. “Love this. Feels so good.”

“Mhmm,” you whimper. “J-just like that!”

Jungkook continues to fuck you, drilling himself deeper and deeper. Soon, you’re chanting his name and his ego begins to boom.

Jungkook fucks you like he loves you… And you know it. You can feel it. To express so, you claw his back. Digging your nails deeper and deeper, holding him close.

“N-nghhh! I’m gonna cum—”

“Cum for me, pretty girl. You behaved so well,” he praises. “Proud of you.”

Your heart flutters. 

Then, your pussy clenches as you release. He feels it. Jungkook groans, accepting that this round will be over soon. There will be plenty more, for sure. As he pumps inside you lazily, cautious of being sensitive to your climax but also because he’s hitting his. 

Then, he creams your pussy. It oozes out, but he pumps himself a few more times to stuff you.

As he spills himself onto you, he lets out heavy breaths and collapses on top of you. You let him catch his breath there as you tangle your fingers in his hair. 

“I love you,” you confess. 

“Good… I was hoping you would.” Jungkook lets out a tired laugh. “I love you too, ___. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re everything I’ve ever loved.”

You hold him tighter.

“I love you more.”

Jungkook bursts into laughter. “Love, we are not going to play that game.”

Tilting your head at him. “Why not? It’s true.”

“You think you love me more than I love you?”

“Mhmm.”

“Prove it.”

With that, Jungkook laughs as you shift position. Leaving him on his back, you climb on top and straddle him. As you lift yourself to guide his dick inside, he lets out a whiney moan. You are so sexy. You are quite literally his favourite part of living.

“I’ll prove it,” you accept the challenge. “Will you last though?”

Jungkook’s lips slight part, amazed and shocked at your initiative. In response, he relaxes and gestures at your body. There’s a tightness that overcomes his entire body. It’s mixed with excitement and relief. For the nth time, he gives in.

Jungkook folds.

Happily, he gives himself to you.

“With you? Forever.”

Forever.

After 3 rounds, you two call it a night. As you drift to sleep, Jungkook holds you. Before this, you two talked as much as you could and even began to make plans. There is an indescribable comfort in being with each other.

Upcoming dates.

Better ways to communicate.

Everything and anything in between—you two want it all.

As the rain pours, Jungkook finally shuts his eyes. He pulls you closer, kissing you for the final time tonight. There would be tomorrow to kiss you anyway.

Tomorrow and the day after that… And the day after that. And the days that follow—he’d do just that.

He can’t wait to kiss you forever.

To hold your hand forever.

To love you forever.

For the first time in a while, Jungkook finds rest. His heart stays still and feels loved. Besides, this is what he has wanted to be all along—

Percy had a mental breakdown half way through senior year, which was putting it lightly. Annabeth was scared for him—and of him. Sometimes she feels ashamed for thinking that way of him, but screaming fits in the middle of the night that lasted until the sun rose would have never been taken lightly.

She angles her face this way and that, testing the shadows of her jaw in the dim lighting. It’ll do. She turns on the sink, taking a final gulp of water to swish in her mouth, washing away the last bit of sourness that came from her gut ten minutes ago. Satisfied, Annabeth steps out of the small bathroom, her solitude left behind.

The Jackson apartment has only seemed to get noisier and noisier over the years. The radio is always crooning classic rock, and pots and pans clatter more often than not. When Annabeth was younger and it was just Percy and Sally, she was fascinated with how the busyness of their home was capable of drowning out the chaos of the city. Now with the addition of a baby, moments of quiet are rare.

It’s why she likes these mornings in the summer, if she can push unkind thoughts out of her mind. It’s vastly different to enjoy being alone versus feeling lonely. Garbage trucks and horns honking are a million miles away when the sun shines just right through the curtains, casting a warm glow throughout the home. It’s peaceful, and it’s so strange that her boyfriend’s empty apartment is the only place she can close her eyes without caution.

The place is too small for five people, it’s hot because the AC has a mind of its own, and Annabeth might have started a small fire trying to cook dinner the other night, but it’s home. She’ll miss everything when she moves upstate next month.

On the technical side of things, Annabeth lives with Rachel. They aren’t exactly the best of friends though, and her place always smells like weed and turpentine, so Annabeth prefers to spend her days with Percy.

Annabeth ponders waking Estelle so she can interact with, like, another living thing, but that wouldn’t be fair to the baby.

She opens her recent calls and stares at the list of names. Most from Percy, a few from Sally, and at the very top of the list reads a set of ten numbers. There’s no contact name, but the arrangement is burned into her memory. 

She ignored his call four days ago. She missed it two days ago when she was showering and didn’t have it in her to return it. Last night when her father called her for the third time, Annabeth steeled her heart rate and held the phone to her ear. It may have been the bravest thing she did in months.

For the most part, Annabeth can accurately predict what her father will call her about and what the brief conversation will entail. Annabeth doesn’t like surprises. This time he surprised her.

She opens her laptop, types in the Cornell website without a thought, scrolls to check that yes it still exists, then abruptly closes the screen.

She finds the New York Times crossword and completes it in under two minutes. (She blames her lack of a restful sleep on her slow time.) She peels an orange then lays flat on the carpet to eat it, because why not. 

Annabeth is extremely bored, if that was unclear.

The silence makes her feel useless, in every aspect of life. It’s at this time that Annabeth hears Estelle’s cries.

She has learned that babies can’t be, well, babied, but it must be awfully scary to be so small and wake up alone in a world so big.

Annabeth likes taking care of Estelle. Summers aren’t much different in the Jackson household than they are during the school year. Sally is a writer and Paul is a teacher which isn’t inherently an issue, but it presents problems when living in New York City with a baby and two other adults. Percy has a job because he needs to do something for his sanity. Annabeth was grateful when she was fired from her internship a few months back. 

All that is to say Annabeth is happy to care of Estelle when the apartment is empty, even if Sally and Paul insisted they could take their daughter to daycare. When Annabeth said it was fine, it truly was fine. She and Estelle have a strange fascination with each other. She doesn’t have much experience with babies, but she tries to find it endearing rather than creepy when Estelle refuses to tear her eyes away from Annabeth’s face. They're the same eyes as Percy.

He's mentioned before that Annabeth shouldn’t blame Estelle for the staring, for reasons that are to be expected from her boyfriend. Annabeth rolled her eyes.

She likes holding Estelle in her arms. Her little fists find her hair and make grabbing motions, gripping her braids. It’s cute, though sometimes the baby forgets she has this thing called strength, and tugs too tightly. Or maybe she finds it entertaining to interact with the bright colors and noises and textures of the world around her, and she can use Annabeth’s hair as her first step of exploration.

Estelle is a testament to the innocence of life, and how growing up leads to breaking down. Annabeth never had much of a childhood. By the time things slowed down in her young, tumultuous life, she found she was left far behind. Annabeth wonders what her half-brothers were like as infants. She wasn’t allowed to hold them, and even if she were, her parents would still never tear their loving gazes away from their perfect, innocent sons.

She rocks the baby in her arms, her cries simmered into quiet whimpers. Annabeth’s humming something that might be Beyoncé, but Estelle doesn’t know the difference between “Flaws and All” and the rise and fall of the larynx.

Estelle is set into her play area with the bright colors and objects, and Annabeth falls over the couch, watching her. Not too much later, she hears the lock to the front door moving around, and then Percy steps through.

Estelle waddles over to her brother, which makes Annabeth only a tad nervous that she’ll fall on her little face or little behind. Percy picks up his sister, raising her into the air.

“Hey," Annabeth greets, his presence a sight for really sore eyes. "How was it?”

“Boring. Kids don’t drown like they used to.” He bends to kiss her upside down, which is only a bit disorienting. He then kisses Estelle’s forehead and her sparkly eyes go wide. The gestures are terribly domestic, and it is brought to Annabeth’s attention, not for the first time, that they live in the fantasy of playing Estelle’s mother and father while her real parents are away.

Annabeth shakes her head in sympathy. “Society is regressing.”

While a summer job as a lifeguard may not be the most optimal choice, there isn’t much about the actual work to complain about. Any excitement is better than none at all, even if that means he has to save a kid in the deep end. Or the shallows.

Chlorine makes Percy extremely uncomfortable—it’s why he chose basketball over swimming when his school forced him to play a sport, even if he was notorious for fouls.

“You smell like chemicals.”

“Annabeth, you’re not going to believe what I’m about to tell you.”

She shoves him. “You didn’t shower at the pool?”

“I forgot my flip flops and I was not about to get athlete’s foot.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Would you want to rub fungal cream on my feet for a week?”

She cringes. “Ew, Percy. You wouldn’t make me do that.”

“You’re right,” he sighs. “I wouldn't.” 

“You’re the breadwinner in this relationship, can you believe that?”

He stretches, his arms crossed behind his head. “I always was. You didn’t get paid.” His arms fall rather abruptly. “Shit, sorry.”

Annabeth furrows her eyebrows. “What for?”

“The internship.” It’s said delicately, like any other tone would set her off. It would. Annabeth was fired from her internship at an architecture firm just a few weeks ago for allegedly yelling at her boss. Annabeth thought it was simply a heated discussion on differing opinions. Apparently her behavior was inappropriate. Annabeth disagreed—and still disagrees—but there’s nothing she can do. Maybe file a report for wrongful termination, but she hated the company’s consistently boring designs anyway. It’s for the better.

“Just because I don’t have a job anymore doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to talk about yours. It’s fine. I need to get used to the real world anyway. Normal teenagers aren’t really granted full creative control over redesigning an ancient city.”

“They aren’t?”

Annabeth nods solemnly. “I know it’s hard to believe.”

“You should have prepared me better for that. I can’t believe you.”

“The betrayal.”

He smiles softly. “Sorry I fell asleep last night.”

She shrugs. “You don’t need to wait up for me.”

“I want to. Is Rachel done with her masterpiece yet?”

“You know, same old same old.”

“You don’t remember.” It’s not a dig.

“I don’t remember.”

The main draw to Rachel might be her collection of substances, so what. Annabeth knows what she’s doing. See, Rachel is a “freelancer,” which just means she paints all day and her dad pays her rent. She can virtually do whatever she wants without consequence. Annabeth doesn’t really have a right to judge though, since her own father pays for her tuition. It’s fine. Sometimes Annabeth needs a different kind of fix, one she can’t bring by herself or through others. She doesn’t talk about it with Percy, but she knows the drinking makes him uncomfortable. It’s why she keeps that lifestyle on the other side of town, where the windows reach from the top of the ceiling to the bottom of the floor.

Annabeth sneezes.

Percy gives her a look, then rises to his feet and says, “Lemme shower.”

He rounds on her to place a kiss on her temple, then leaves for the bathroom.

..

“Is Stelle asleep?”

He doesn’t acknowledge the darkness of the night before, nor does he bring light to what happened two years ago to the date. If he wants to be oblivious then she’ll let him, just for today.

She nods, and he responds back with, “Damn, she sleeps more than we do.”

Getting back from miles below felt like a sick nightmare crafted by monsters. It took days for Annabeth to be convinced this wasn’t a hallucination, and she truly was back in the mortal world. Sometimes at night she slips back into this untrue stream of consciousness, and she doesn’t trust anything she sees. What hurts the most is Percy. It hurts because she can’t tell if he’s real or not, the person who is the realest thing she's ever known. Annabeth is thrusted back into the pit, wandering blind and helpless as she cries for her abandonment. Clouds of smoke around her head help her forget, in a different way.

“Your mom always says she’s an easy baby. She doesn’t need to be submerged in water to stop crying,” Annabeth teases.

“That’s actually funny considering I was scared of public pools as a kid.”

“Probably because of all the chemicals.”

“Yeah, an aversion to swimming in piss would make sense.”

“How is that different from swimming in the ocean?”

“Because I’m, like, directly related to fish.”

Annabeth blinks. “I don’t want to have this conversation anymore.”

He snorts. It’s so easy to fall into his arms, focus on the warm familiarity of their banter and not the thousands of ways this moment can be interrupted with the wrong word, or an unintentional harsh tone.

“Toddlers scare me," Annabeth admits. "Their limbs are too long.”

“So dracanae in Grand Central Station is just another Tuesday, but a regular human being is what gets you going.”

He’s ridiculous. She tells him just that.

“What? My sister’s limbs are perfectly fine. She doesn’t appreciate the slander.”

They both look at her. She remains sleeping peacefully, her little nose washed with pink.

There’s another part of playing parents for Estelle. If not imagining her and Percy with their own child was a test of self control and recklessness, Annabeth would fail miserably. It makes her thankful to have an IUD. Annabeth isn’t a forgetful person. In fact, she has the best memory of anyone she knows. Reciting Macbeth is different than remembering to take a pill every day, though.

Annabeth is plenty okay with only looking forward to surviving college, thank you very much. Percy on the other hand is so incredibly family oriented, he doesn’t even see his daydreams as out of left field. Older Percy with kids of his own. Normal.

“Have you eaten?”

“Yeah,” Annabeth says. He gives her a look. “What? Coffee counts.”

“Let’s feed you then, lazyass.”

“Not lazy, ’m just tired.”

They leave Estelle to make their way to the kitchen.

“Nightmares?”

“No, I just couldn’t sleep. I hate when there’s no reason.” 

Nightmares are to be expected, but they’ve become predictable.

“I would’ve stayed up with you. We could’ve watched a movie or gone on a walk or something.”

He doesn’t remember. It’s better this way, Annabeth thinks.

Percy kissed her forehead when he left this morning. The act woke her up, and she wasn’t able to fall back asleep, but that route was more preferable than waking with half a mind and not knowing where he was. Then she would remember, mid-panic, that Hera’s war is over, and they don’t need to have eyes on each other at every moment to know the other is okay. Annabeth doesn’t know which is easier: to fall asleep alone, or by his side just to meet her lonely soul in the mornings.

“Pancakes okay?”

Annabeth laughs through her nose. It’s basically the only thing he can make himself by scratch. “What other options are there?”

He takes a moment to consider, pulling a faux thinking face. “The most irresistible gourmet cereal.”

She narrows her eyes. “I think I can resist it.”

He actually manages to get enough done in the kitchen considering the various distractions from his girlfriend. 

“What would you do if I turned into an owl?” she asks playfully, swinging her feet from up on the counter.

“I had a dream about that once.” She blinks. Percy continues, keeping his eyes on the batter in the pan. “I was a fish. You ate me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It was scary. Try not to eat me please.”

“I will keep it in mind.”

“Thank you." He eyes her. "Where’d that come from?”

“Where did that dream come from?”

“I asked you first. But I’m pretty sure it was from your mom because it happened around the time we started dating.”

“That’s nice. And I don’t know. It just popped into my head.”

“You have the strangest thoughts, Annabeth Chase.”

She cocks her head to the side. “What, you’ve never thought of if you were, like, a dolphin?”

“Of course I have, but not a dolphin. Dolphins are evil. I’m thinking megalodon.”

“When are you not thinking of megalodon, Shark Boy?”

“Probably when I find it. Nevermind, I will actually never shut up when I do. You’ll need to euthanize me.”

“I am honored that I’m the person elected to euthanize you when the time inevitably comes.”

“Fuck yeah.” He nods, confidence restored in being the one to find the extinct shark.

Annabeth smirks. “Name all the species of sharks in—”

“In alphabetical order?” He tilts his head towards her, curls falling with the movement. “See, you can’t make fun of me when I actually enjoy doing it.”

“I’m not making fun of you! I genuinely like it, I swear.”

He sighs. “Angel, Atlantic weasel…”

She grins incredibly wide throughout his recital. She grins at the brightness in his eyes because he’s honestly a huge nerd and refuses to admit it, at the speed at which he recites, and him being so in the groove of it all that he burns a pancake. The whole situation is a lot to smile about. It’s at times like these that Annabeth’s joy is ruined by her guilt towards how she thinks of him. How she could ever not want to be with him, not want to share his company and laughter.

But it’s different when they are caught in moments of turmoil.

..

She likes being here with him. He plays with the coils at the end of her braids, running his finger along the downward spirals.

Sunlight filters through the curtains. The light hits Percy’s curls in a way that makes his flyaways look like spun gold. He nuzzles his head into the warm crook of her neck, his breath tickling her skin.

He lifts her glasses off and reaches over her to set them on the night stand. He smiles in a way that makes her suspicious. “There. Now I can see your beautiful face.”

Annabeth stares at him blankly. “Never do that again. I would actually pay you to never say that ever again.”

Percy laughs brightly, the skin around his eyes crinkling. She smiles at the sight.

He’s like a boa constrictor, but a nice one, if there ever was such a thing. She feels safe.

“Is this okay?”

“Your elbow’s actually digging into my ribs a bit—”

“Shit, sorry,” Percy moves his arm to wrap around her shoulders instead, “But I meant is all of this okay? Like, are you happy staying here?”

“Of course I am. Wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.”

His hand moves down her bicep, then up, then down. Again and again in a way that leaves a trail of warmth in his path. “You kinda live with Rachel.”

“Rachel,” she repeats, testing the syllables. “She’s not really roommate material.”

“She’s your roommate though.”

“I’m a glorified squatter.”

Kids remember their moments of appraisal, times when they were singled out for being special. They also remember other kids getting rewarded, and they wonder what they did wrong. What do they have to do to get their gold star of recognition?

“My dad said he’d help me move in.”

His hand freezes, then continues its gentle movement. “Well no, right? We are.”

“I told him yes.”

His hand drops. “You already talked to him? When?”

“Two nights ago. It was time for him to cash in on his be a father twice a year check.”

Percy doesn’t say anything.

“I’m too forgiving,” Annabeth says.

“Maybe. But that's not always a bad thing.”

“When do you think it’ll finally click?”

“When he’s deserving of it. Who knows when that'll be.”

“That’s why I do it, I think,” she murmurs. “Let him in, even if it’s just for a moment. That's all I can handle.”

His arms tighten just a bit more. “You’re a good person, Annabeth. I just worry you give too many chances.”

“At least I’m consistent,” she jokes. “It’s okay. We'll be together for six hours tops.” 

Moments of silence pass, and she pokes his chest. “I can hear you thinking.”

“What are you hearing then?”

“Whole lotta static. I wish I could read your mind.”

He admits, “Sometimes I think you can.”

..

A jolt wakes Annabeth, and she registers it as his heel digging into her shin. Her vision is blurry. She sighs deeply, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Morning, sunshine.”

She turns her head to find Percy still asleep, and shaking so infinitesimally it’s barely there. His eyes seem to be rolling back and forth behind his eyelids. Her head clears. “Percy?”

In the seconds it takes to wake him, Annabeth prays his memories will remain. It doesn’t happen often anymore, whereas a year ago his memory would lapse about once a week.

She presses her hand to his chest lightly, rising up then down to follow his breathing. Percy grasps her wrist, and she can imagine his head feels as if it’s filled with air.

His eyes open, wild, then soften in a millisecond. Annabeth examines his every feature, picking apart every quirk to figure out what’s running through his mind.

“It’s fine. ‘m fine.” He lays back down, and with his arms around her she follows him. He strokes her hair; she can feel the trembling in his fingers.

His head turns so that their foreheads connect, noses brushing. It’s enough to feel the other there, to have this undeniable proof that they’re alive and unharmed. But Annabeth knows it’s not enough for him, and it’s why she gives him what he needs when he kisses her.

She should ask what scared him. She should ask what happened in the nightmare. But picking at his cuts won’t stop the tremor in his body or the fear behind his gaze.

Sometimes words fail the both of them, and selfish desires take over, even if it leads to more hurt.

His lips lower to her neck, and a sadness falls over Annabeth at how they got here. Not in this moment specifically, it’s a selfishly good moment, but how they let silence become their method of communication, and the approval of ignorance equating bliss.

When they got back after the war there was unprecedented terror, mainly brought to the forefront through vivid flashbacks. They were delicate, carrying each other like thin glass. Then after feeling depleted for so many months, they found a way to be alive for each other, through harsh hands and scattered bruises. It felt good. It still feels good, even if Annabeth knows it’s wrong, and every time he presses against her her heart cracks a bit more. Percy and Annabeth are at their most vulnerable when with each other, no matter the state. 

When his hand travels under her shirt, it should jolt Annabeth back to reality. But his touch is warm, and she’s spent too many years in the cold, so she pushes all other thoughts of opposition away. It’s not to say that she doesn’t want this. Percy isn’t taking advantage of her or ignoring her wants. Annabeth craves his closeness, and it’s intoxicating to be needed this way. It’s just that afterwards she can’t help feeling a little dirty for how they treat each other.

Soon, is her mantra. Soon soon soon.

Annabeth glances at the clock on the nightstand and her eyebrows raise in surprise at the time that has passed. Sally should be home by now. She then glances at the door, notices it’s still shut tight, and concludes if Sally opened it, she would have found them both innocently sleeping above the sheets.

Annabeth’s hand comes up to pat Percy’s arm. “Hey, stop.” Pale, inquisitive eyes meet hers. Before he can ask what’s wrong she says, “We’re getting ice cream.”

His eyebrows draw together, producing a crease in the middle that Annabeth smooths with a press of her thumb.

“Your mom’s home. We’re getting ice cream.”

That crease returns. “We have ice cream in the freezer.”

She pushes him off her and turns to plant her feet on the ground. “Get your ass up.”

//

2. Lungs.

The July rain leaves the air sticky and thick.

Annabeth licks the melted edges of her ice cream before the drops can coat her fingers. She looks over at Percy to find half his cone already gone.

“That good?”

“I’m all healed,” he answers.

“Ice cream has a one-hundred percent success rate. You know this.”

“The day it falls to ninety-nine is the day the world implodes.”

Annabeth hates summer. The few months of the sun high in the sky used to mean two things: she had a quest, and she had Percy. Now, it is a period of stillness. The calm before an unknown storm.

It is slowly killing Annabeth to live through these constant days of nothingness. It will kill Percy if he does anything at all. So he will stay, take care of his sister, and Annabeth will leave to start the next chapter of her life. 

They pass a flower stand of sorts. It’s overflowing with a variety of flowers and color. Annabeth almost sneezes from the sweet smell.

Percy spins around and before Annabeth can even wonder as to why he did that, he produces a sunflower.

Annabeth’s grin is bright, and her laugh even more so. “Thief!”

He covers her mouth with his free hand, smiling from either his antics or her joy, she doesn’t know. “Shh! Coming from Annabeth ‘arrested for shoplifting’ Chase.”

She takes the stalk from him and twirls it between her fingers. “That got expunged last year. Asshole.”

He laughs and throws his arm around her shoulder.

They make their way to the park, thankfully finding an empty bench in the shade. The stolen sunflower rests over Annabeth's lap. As dutiful people watches, they observe the bikers and the joggers and the strollers and the couples and the solos and so on.

She could talk with him for hours about anything, really, but the silence is just as comforting. Actually, anything that isn’t revolved around her she could talk about for hours.

“Narnia freaks me out.”

He sputters a laugh. “Go on?”

She likes that she can just say things to Percy, random thoughts that spring up in her mind, and she doesn’t worry about him thinking she’s, like, weird or something. Which is a strange train of thought to go down because they’ve been best friends for years. If he didn’t like her they wouldn’t be here, but Percy liking Annabeth will always remain a cosmic mystery to her.

“I was going to say something about us actually being older than we are, then I thought of those kids living in Narnia for decades, then when they go back to the mortal world, they’re back in kids bodies.”

“Freaky,” he agrees.

“Reminds me of us a bit.”

“Yeah.”

His thumb grazed her knuckles. Percy slides his hand under her own, the other reaching over to trace the lines of her palm with his index finger.

Annabeth hums. “What’s it telling you?”

He eyes her. “The best year of your life is upon you.”

“Oh really.”

“Yeah.” He pauses to inhale, exhale. “You throw the packs into a bonfire, you smash the bottles, and you score an internship at a fancy architecture firm where you are so valuable that you’re paid more than the boss.”

“Sounds nice," Annabeth says. "Too bad that life is incomplete.”

“That’s why the next year will be better. And the year after that.”

“And after that…”

Percy nods. “And after that.”

Annabeth laces her fingers with his, holding tightly. “I believe you.”

“Good.”

The high sun leaves the streets radiating with heat. They talk and don’t talk, meaningless comments about the world around them and stupid hypotheticals. It almost feels like those first few months together, where they would fill their weekends with each other’s time. Looking back, Annabeth doesn’t know if they were making up for lost time, or they were taking advantage of an unknown future. A future where they knew stability couldn’t be promised.

//

3. Blood.

Annabeth stares at her reflection for so long she loses time. There’s only one bathroom in the apartment, so it’s probably rude to stay hidden for so long, but Annabeth can’t escape to solitude anywhere else.

She feels outside of her body, like her movements are being controlled by a third party entity. She absentmindedly runs her thumb across the bumps and ridges on her thighs, past scars inflicted by no one but herself. When Percy discovered what she was doing was one of the worst moments in Annabeth’s life. It was all because of the damn look he gave her. It was heartbreak, and she was the reason for it. Annabeth isn’t proud of the millions of ways she has hurt him over the years. One day it’s going to give, and Annabeth may be a horrible person for waiting for the day they leave each other for good, but at least she’ll be prepared. She thinks she could be married to Percy for twenty years and still feel the ground beneath her shake with uncertainty. It’s not a good feeling, but she doesn’t blame Percy. Annabeth Chase will always be her own worst enemy.

It’s the worst fucking feeling in the world to discover that someone doesn’t love themself in the way you love them. Annabeth saw that feeling on Percy’s face.

She turns on the sink, freezing cold water pooling into her joined hands, and splashes her face.

Annabeth hears feet padding outside the door. The steps are light with a purpose, feet not dragging. She knows it’s Sally, so she’s probably putting Estelle down for the night, or just a nap (whatever the baby decides). Before she can stop herself, Annabeth twists the metal door knob. The hinges creak as she steps out.

Annabeth hovers outside the door to Estelle’s room, one foot in the hall.

“Sally?” “I just wanted to thank you for everything. For being understanding, mostly, especially when we leave you in the dark.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. You’re a part of this family too. You always will be.” Annabeth heard the unspoken even if you’re not with Percy.

“This isn’t something a good girlfriend does.”

“None of that, Annabeth. Sometimes being a good person means doing the hard thing.”

How can Sally say all this when she doesn’t know? She doesn’t know all the things they had to do to survive in the pit, she doesn’t know how they treat each other now.

“I just feel bad,” she croaks.

“There’s no need to be. You’re only eighteen. You’re expected to be the adult on the godly side of things, but there’s no need for that here.”

Her chin wobbles, tears pooling over her eyes faster than she can stop them. “I’m scared this will all be for nothing,” she sobs.

Sally opens her arms without hesitation, and Annabeth falls into them. “Oh, sweetheart. Why have you kept this all in?”

“I can’t talk with Percy about it, and you’re his mom,” she chokes out. “He’s your son first. I’m just his girlfriend.”

Sally rubs her back, like she's coaxing every bad feeling out of her. It is about as comforting as it is weakening. There’s something about Sally Jackson that doesn’t make Annabeth scared to feel. “I wish you wouldn’t think of yourself so small, sweet pea. You’re a part of this family. You always will be.”

Annabeth hears the unspoken even if you’re not with Percy.

“I don’t know, I just… I felt so lonely the last couple years. But I don’t feel that way anymore. Now I’m leaving for real, and it’s my choice to be lonely. Ithaca seems a world away.”

This home represents everything of a past life. The framed photographs on the wall are of a younger Annabeth, so in love she let it blind her. She grew out of it, like she grew out of camp after the first war.

..

When she opens the door to the bedroom, Annabeth isn't surprised to find the window open, and the silhouette of Percy sitting on the fire escape.

Escape serves a double meaning. Over the months, Annabeth and Percy found the rusted railings separate from the rest of the world. Here was neutral territory. Here, they could gaze into the windows of the countless homes around them, looking into glimpses of people’s lives. Sometimes it’s frustrating for Annabeth to know even after all the things they’ve been through, they’re still smaller than two insignificant specks of dust in the cosmos.

“Can I join you?” she asks, needlessly.

“Always.”

She swings her feet above the city. She feels like the little kid she was at camp, kicking her legs up and up over the lake. The world seemed so big back then. Now, Annabeth’s imagination has drifted to the stars.

It’s late, but the end of summer means that the sky is washed with a dull ocean blue. It’s another thing she dislikes about these months, how the days never want to end.

Percy is sitting at her side, their thighs touching. His forehead rests against the deteriorated railing, breathing in the warm smog of the city.

Annabeth watches him. She remembers his first days at camp, where she fell back and observed him from the shadows. He wasn’t unlike the other newcomers, but there was something about him she couldn’t get a read on. Six years later and Annabeth still feels as if she’s missing the final piece to the infinite puzzle that is Percy Jackson.

“You haven’t aged a day in six years.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere," she says. "My gray hair is all because of you.”

He chuckles, and his hand raises to her jaw, tracing the soft line. When his thumb grazes over the spot just before her chin, Annabeth jerks her head away, then winces at her blind reaction. His hand freezes.

It’s an old dance, and Annabeth’s tired, so she lets him inspect her jaw while her face burns. She feels naked under his scrutiny, with nowhere left to hide.

Percy is smart, and Annabeth knows she won't be able to lie her way out of this one.

“Annabeth…” He’s shaking his head.

“You were having a nightmare. I’m fine, I swear. It’s nothing new.”

It’s alright, really. It was Annabeth’s fault. In hurting him, she hurt herself. It only seemed fair; it’s why she no longer cries when nightmares translate to real life. This is the price she pays for selfishness.

“Nothing new… Annabeth, do you realize how fucked up that is?”

“What do you want me to say? I’ve taken countless hits to the face before. From you, might I add, in the training fields. This is honestly better than those times.”

His face is impassive. That look has always scared her more than any look he's given to an enemy. “I’m thinking maybe you were wrong for staying here.”

Her heart drops. “You want me to leave.”

“No, but." Percy exhales, frustrated and regretful. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I’m trying not to be selfish. You’re not happy here.”

“I’m not happy anywhere but here.”

“Doesn’t that make you upset? That your happiest state is when your boyfriend hits you and he doesn’t even remember it?” His voice breaks at the end, and his expression crumbles. “I’m no better than—” He stops himself, but Annabeth knows who he was going to name.

“Percy," she says, not fucking around, "look at me. You are nothing like him, and you never could be. These situations are nowhere comparable, you have to realize that.”

He's looking all over her face and all around her, like his vision is shaky. Something has happened, but Annabeth isn't quite sure what. She can't leave. Not yet. “Fuck, I hate this.”

“What?”

“It's like..." He licks his lips. "I almost think next year could be a good thing.”

Percy gets it, but she doesn't feel that triumph in her chest that she thought she would. How can things break down even further, so so simply? Their world is crumbling, but they're only two specks of dust.

“You get it now,” she mutters. “Hopefully we’ll be better.”

Percy is no where near satisfied. “We can’t just keep saying that, Beth.”

“Yeah, but this time an actual change is being made." She takes his hand. "For real. It’s not like last summer.”

His gaze is low, watching the tiny people below them carry on with their night. “I hate the summer.”

“And the winter,” Annabeths adds.

“Fall, then.”

She shakes her head. “That’s when school starts.”

“Spring,” he finalizes.

“That’s when finals are. Peak academic stress.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

She smiles, leaning into his chest and his arms wrap around her shoulders. She breathes deeply, his scent a beacon guiding her back to reality, but also an escape.

"I'm sorry," Percy whispers against her temple.

"It's okay. I promise. Gods, I’m never going to be able to get you out of my head.”

She feels the light laugh in his chest. “Would that be so bad? Nevermind, don’t answer that.”

“It’s just a year. Plus winter break. We’ve been apart for longer before.”

“Before we were us though.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

His thumb and forefinger on her chin guides her eyes back to his. He's trying to be happy for her. She wants to tell him that the mask does more damage than good. “You’ll do great things, miss architect.”

“You will too. I know it.”

He chuckles wetly. “Why am I so sad? It’s not even…”

“It’s a change—but a good one. I’m sure of it.”

He nods. “I trust you.”