#disclaimer that I said I would Talk About my fics! which is a promise that this technically does fulfill!

[chiropteracupola]

Leviathan groom, please?

this (this being the tattoos-and-superstition story I've spoken about a few times before) is probably one of my favorite Hornblower fics, to the point where I've been working backward and forward on it for over a year as I try and fail to get it to be Just Perfect. trying to find the balance of exposition to explain the fantasy worldbuilding and actual plot has been very tricky with this one, especially as I haven't quite figured out just how either of those things works yet.

so right now, even though I like a lot of the current stuff I've written, I'm probably going to start over from the bones up, patching in the bits I liked from the first version as I go.

[SCRAPING SOUND AS A BIG CURTAIN IS DRAWN BACK]

basically, the structure that I have so far is 'too much exposition' -> [BIG HOLE] -> 'Bush wandering around in the snow' -> [SPOOKY DESCRIPTION I'VE NOT COME UP WITH YET] -> 'Bush having a long talk with a creepy thing' -> 'slapdash ending that's a little too goofy'

so the main points that need to get worked on are going to be streamlining the magic system and integrating the function behind it into the actual story (probably through some kind of opening Sailing Scenes), redesigning the creepy thing to fit better with the tone of the story overall, and of course, ironing the plot until it's nice and smooth.

I've had some difficulty managing stories with a larger cast in the past, and I think I'd like to push myself with this one and try harder to make the settings feel populated and living, which I think will be more compatible with the eventual redesign of the antagonist. I do think a face-stealing shapeshifter still meshes very nicely with Hornblower's Issues™️, but doesn't really work with the rest of the setting that I'm devising here. so it's back to the drawing board on the creepy thing, and I'm going to do a little research for inspiration before I settle on anything this time. rather than the face-stealer, I think a more standard Endless Barrow Party to get lost in/feel deeply uncomfortable at/charge boldly into on an ill-advised rescue mission will suit the two of them better.

and I'll probably have to pick a new title, as changing up the fairy-folk rules will mean that I lose the double meaning that made this particular one work so well. (it was always meant to be ambiguous whether it referred to Hornblower himself or to the face-stealer, since they're both hanging out somewhere in the middle of the sliding scale between husband and sea monster.) while it'll be a little said to break up my Boreas-lyrics tradition for Hornblower writing, I've been trying to switch to a snappier and more memorable titling system for some time anyway.

and if you're still here after reading all that, how about a scrap of the Exposition Brick that probably won't be coming back in the rewrite:

Entering the navy young had many its disadvantages, but one solid point in its favor was getting the ink-workings on you. They worked the best when they were drawn in as early as possible, it was said, and Bush had had his since he was barely eleven.

With so many ways a boy could die aboard ship, there was at least one surely preventable, if the right precautions were taken. The right knot in the right place, and they’d be tied down tight to the mortal world as well as human art could make them. There were other charms of much the same theory, hold-fast and love-stay-true and safe-at-sea, all with their own mark and their own meaning, but the faith men put in those, though strong, wasn’t nearly so hardy. Bush had seen nearly every other form of ink-workings fail at one time or another, but never these two, the sort given to the youngest and most likely to be stolen away.

He’d even heard the discussions among the hands, the boastful tales of a man claiming he’d nearly been spirited off as a lad, and would have been, too, if not for the marks on the backs of his hands. Sadder stories as well, for as he passed by on his rounds, he’d noted whispers of someone’s sister’s son stolen away, nephews and cousins and brothers gone under the hills never to be seen again. Why don’t they just put the protections on them proper-like, one man would say, and the other would shake his head, and mutter that such people couldn’t be reasoned with.

Whether it was that the ink-workings simply didn’t work on shore, or that the minds of those dwelling on land couldn’t wrap around a too-permanent way to keep their children safe, it still was that those on land went without the marks. Bush wasn’t sure quite why, nor did he himself understand exactly how the tattoos on the backs of his hands kept him safe. He was a plain sailor, not an artist or a witch, and he was content to trust rather than to make an attempt at unpicking the workings of the art.

#em writes stuff #I need a casual hornblower tag #disclaimer that I said I would Talk About my fics! which is a promise that this technically does fulfill! #thank you for sending me the sort of ask that I can so easily use for rubber duck debugging a story! #hope the look behind the curtain was not too incomprehensible - this one has been bouncing around in my head for too long for sense #and also my tendency to Categorize Cryptids and Creatures has (I think) caused me to invent some terms again #for the full visual experience you should also note that the curtain is in fact a shark-patterned shower curtain.

[novelizt]

THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME ☁︎ ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

GENRE ➺ fluff with a little angst, friends to lovers (everyone can see it)

SYNOPSIS ➺ you're back in town. as promised, lockwood welcomes you with open arms. the only difficulty was the fact that you kissed the last time you saw each other.

WC ➺ 4.8k

DISCLAIMER ➺ fem! wedding planner! reader, and i try to write a more descriptive kiss scene (i apologize in advance), the trio has been aged up to about 18-19, and lockwood calls reader 'sweetheart' but in a totally (not) platonic way.

WARNINGS ➺ profanity (one curse word), reader is briefly jealous of lucy, QUILL KIPPS, description of pools and being underwater, a little suggestive but nothing graphic

NOTE ➺ here's the beginning of my 1989 TV sonfic collection!! (full collection masterlist will be out on oct 27.) belly and jeremiah's pool kiss popped into my head while writing. do with that information as you will. this also came out fluffier than i intended it to be. @t2sh0 , here's one of your favorite 1989 tracks turned into a fic, i hope you enjoy 💙

Anthony Lockwood had a way of charming people. You knew you were a goner the second he flashed his teeth at you.

In the eleven months you were employed in Lockwood & Co., you hoped that the subtle touches over case files or the longing glances across the table meant the same to him as it did to you.

That said, you weren't sure what to make of it when he did kiss you—right before you boarded a plane out of the country. You tried to imagine it to be as magical as you dreamed of, but the only impression it left was a confusing one.

Did he kiss you out of pity? Did he do it because you might never come back? Did he do it because it was a spur of the moment thing?

Luckily, your studies distracted you enough to give you some peace. It's only when the world settled into night that you pondered it over and over again, until you agonized over it enough to cry yourself to sleep.

Your contemplations still haunted you as you lugged your bag off the conveyor belt, actually breathing in London air for the first time in three years. When you centered yourself, you scanned the crowd and found your name scrawled in messy, familiar handwriting. The person that held the sign hadn't aged a day.

Lockwood looked older than he did when you first met him, but, now, he had grown into himself. His smile remained unchanged. It speared you in the heart, just like it did the first time.

"Hello, stranger." He was first to speak.

"Hi," you said. You considered adding a witty remark but found that you couldn't conjure one up as quickly as you used to. Instead, you smiled to fill in the awkward silence.

He returned your grin but it didn't reach his eyes. You didn't say anything else before he lowered the sign and held out his arm. You let out an uneasy laugh as you shrugged your bag off your shoulder and onto his.

Even if your mind grappled for something to start with, small talk didn't pick up like how you imagined it would. How could it? The last time he walked beside you, you two were different people. At least, you were.

You were never going to be the kids who bumped fists or laughed at jokes only you two knew again. You were never going to be his partner in crime the same way you were years ago.

Your talent had nulled, leaving you with the only choice to pursue a new life elsewhere, in another country. You knew you had changed, but did Lockwood? The uncertainty was a stake between you. He was acting like nothing was wrong, which made it difficult to gauge whether his lack of speaking was on purpose or he was as lost as you were.

He had taken the side of the walk closest to the road—like he always did. You remembered that he said it was the "most gentlemanly thing to do in the presence of a lady." You called bullshit, but you found yourself softening 'round the edges thanks to his chivalry.

You paced a ways behind him, watching his back and the swish of his coat tails. Like a dagger to the heart, you realized that his coat was new.

"What happened to the trusty old boy?"

It was your first attempt at a conversation. You hoped your voice didn't quiver.

Lockwood slowed his pace to fall in line beside you before shooting you a confused look. Realization hit shortly after. He pinched the lapels of his coat. "You mean my old coat?"

"Yeah." You smiled, forcing yourself to make it convincing. "What happened to it?"

"Lost it," he explained. He chuckled with a far-off look in his eye. It was a fond memory by the looks of it. "Smeared in plasma. There was no salvaging it. Why, you miss it?"

"A little bit," you lied.

He had kept you warm under that coat on more than one occasion. You knew where the seams unraveled, and you knew what he put in each of its pockets. You missed it terribly, and it wasn't even yours. Just like a certain someone. It was pathetic, really.

If he had caught on to your disappointment, he didn't show it. Instead, he teased you with a smile. "Life goes on, sweetheart." He closed the space between you to nudge your arm, just like the good ole days. "There's plenty of coats in the sea."

You stiffle a laugh behind your hand. The endearment had brought the butterflies in your belly back to life. Three years and that hadn't changed at all, and only Anthony could make you chuckle over a bad joke. "Yeah? Where did this one come from?"

He shrugged, pursing his lips. "I haven't got a clue. George and Lucy got it for me."

George, you knew. He was the grump who refused to say one good thing about you but didn't hesitate to make you lime pie when you were in low spirits.

Lucy . . . Lucy was new. Her name had made your hair stand. "Lucy?"

Lockwood snapped his fingers. "Ah, that's what I forgot to tell you." He looked both ways before taking your arm and crossing the street. Portland Row was standing right in front of you, but it felt different now that you knew that someone else was occupying your old room. "Lucy Carlyle is our newest recruit. A Listener. A bloody good one, at that."

He looked elated, so you knew she was doing good for the agency. Something about the way he talked about her made your heart sink.

You were still coming up with a reply when Portland Row cracked open and George Karim's face entered your periphery. He wasn't the type to smile widely, but you took the minute tilt of his lips as an attempt at one.

Perhaps the trip had warped your senses because that was probably the most enthusiastic you'd ever heard him. "About time you came back, trouble."

Aww, he remembered you. The sentiment comforted you more than you cared to admit.

—

Lucy Carlyle's eyes widened the moment Lockwood introduced you. Something finally clicked for her, yet you didn't know what it was. All you really did was shuffle awkwardly and utter a feeble "nice to meet you."

"Oh my God . . . You're the agent they can't shut up about," she grinned.

Lockwood's nettled eyes darted to you. "'Can't shut up about' is being generous."

"Come off it," Lucy scoffed, swatting him away as if he were nothing more than a mosquito. "I was wondering if your name was some weird code. "You-know-who would know what to do", "I'd kill to have her help right about now." Ugh! Now it makes sense!"

Lockwood set his fists on his hips, licking his lips in search of an alibi. "George brought you up more often than not."

George shot him a glare—one that threatened to break the biscuit rule. "Because you'd start. Then you'd talk even louder if I told you to shut up."

"You were part of the conversation regardless."

"Well, she wasn't! You just couldn't quit your yap—"

Lucy kicked out one of the chairs at the table. You smiled gratefully as you took the seat, the boys' bickering melting into the background.

"Are you rejoining the agency?" Lucy asked, propping her elbow on the table. "I'm on the brink of going insane, so I could use a friend. One that doesn't think it's normal to walk around without a shirt or trousers."

You graced her with a gentle laugh. "That's the boys for you, but I'm afraid not, no. I no longer have the Talent to stay in this line of work..." You look down at your hands, remembering the countless stars you wished on to fix you. None of them granted your wish. Your Touch never came back to you. You'd abscessed over the same issue countless times before but now that you were back, you were writing a new chapter of your life. You clenched your fist with reborn determination. "Lockwood promised that I would always have a place here while I get back on my feet, and it would be lovely to be friends with you. Right now, I'm looking for places to bring my other skills. Just because my abilities changed doesn't mean the world will wait for me to get used to it."

When you looked up, you were surprised to not only find Lucy's glazed eyes on you, but George and Lockwood's, too. George coughed into his fist, turning away and finding interest in the kettle. Lockwood's brows furrowed, etching lines of sadness across his face. Lucy tried to plaster on a smile.

"You're very brave. I wouldn't know what to do if my Talent started to fade," Lucy said, hoping the vote of confidence would do what she intended it to.

You appreciated the sentiment but the sorrow in the recess of your mind would always stick at the mention of Talent. "Thank you, Lucy. And you don't have to worry about that right now. From what I hear, you're the best Listener in London." You placed your elbow on the table then set your cheek on your palm. "Tell me, what is the most horrendous thing you've heard?"

—

"I wouldn't mind sharing a room, really."

Despite Lucy's willingness, Lockwood refuted it. "Nice as you are, Luce, half the things you keep up there will unsettle her. Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

You shook your head, an amused smile on your face. "I was an agent, too. It takes a lot to bother me, Anthony. I didn't turn into a wuss just because I've been out of the country."

"Yes, well," Lockwood flourished his hand. "She keeps a jarred skull swimming in sludge with her. Letting you witness that tragedy would be unjust of me."

"I can handle it," you reassure positively. Skull in a jar sounded intriguing. The bigger question was why Lucy kept it in her room, but the was a question for another day.

Lockwood shook his head. When he crossed his arms, you knew the meeting had been adjourned.

"Are we really surprised?" George whispered to you on the way upstairs.

You chuckled and shook your head. "Not really."

—

The only reason you were familiar with Lockwood's room involved chess matches at the most ungodly hours of night. When insomnia had troubled you, you'd come right down, plop the board in the middle of the bed, and play until one or both of you would slump over.

You wondered if he was itching to even the score from three years ago, but you were surprised by the order in which he put his room in. Lockwood wasn't one to worry about a mess, but he was conscious enough to put it away that day. It was the tidiest you'd ever seen the place.

The only stain was the chessboard on the bed and your luggage that had taken over the ottoman at the foot of said bed.

When you rounded on him to ask, he presented you with a smug smile. "We have a lot to catch up on. What better way than over a game of chess?"

You crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg. "Because I won last time?"

"And that," he admitted, shuffling over to his side of the bed and claiming the white pieces. "You know me so well, sweets."

You shook your head in a beguiled way, charmed by his truthfulness. "You're so predictable."

His eyes lit up, like they always did when he was presented a challenge. "See if you can say the same when I check your king."

"In your dreams, Anthony Lockwood." The bed dipped as you sat on your side, mentally prepping yourself to spend the night humbling him whilst trying not to stare at the motions of his hands for too long.

He moved the first pawn, and the game began.

You were so immersed, you missed the book folded open on his bedside table. In it was highlighted: 'the best way to beat jet lag; stay awake for as long as you can.'

—

You finally had a foot in the door three weeks after arriving in London. Sure, it wasn't glamorous and you spent more time advertising yourself than making money, but it was progress nonetheless.

Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation, but the fact that Quill Kipps was also a resident in these parts completely went over your head. You received your reminder when he had reached for the book you wanted for you. It took a little effort not to sneer at him—muscle memory.

You wouldn't have obliged but Kipps had already started a conversation. "Thought I'd never see you here again, trouble." As nasty as he usually was, he didn't show it. Dare you say he was civil? He even smiled at you. Chills. "Does Tony know?"

You clutched the book to your chest, disconcerted by how kind he was being. "He does, yeah. I'm staying with him until I can afford a place of my own."

"Figures," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. He was looking a lot like himself. "I'm surprised he hasn't popped the question."

Your jaw tensed. You had a sudden urge to thunk him over the head to get his mind back in order. "That's because there is no question to pop, Kipps." You looked away, mustering the last of your patience. "My Talent faded. I plan weddings for a living now. I don't have much of a name here yet so business is quite slow."

You didn't see his face change but you sure heard it. "Sorry to hear that..."

"Me, too. I guess."

"Don't give me cheek. I quit because my Talent faded, too."

Your eyes bugged out. The admission was like a carpet being pulled out from under you. "You're kidding."

He chuckled morosely. "I wish I was. I'm trying to find my way but it is challenging."

"With that attitude, of course it is."

Kipps snorted, squaring his shoulders. It didn't do much. He looked as punchable as he usually did. "You sound like him."

"I don't think so. He has more to say about you than I do. He makes me look nice."

Kipps nodded, giving you an invisible tip of a hat. There was a period of brief silence before he opened his mouth again. "Say, the complex I live in has a vacancy on the third floor. If you're interested, I can give you the address."

You tapped the cover of your book, mentally tallying the pros and cons before shrugging. "What's the harm in asking? I have a yellow note in my bag, let me fetch it.

"I'll come along. I'm about to get my books checked anyway."

You allowed him to follow you to your table and bade your tense farewells after he had scribbled down the address and the custodian's telephone.

—

It was no mystery that Lockwood had caught wind of the momentary interaction. You were unaware of how, but he had ways, apparently. He caught up to you on your walk home.

"Was he bothering you?" was the first thing he asked.

He came out of nowhere, so it was reasonable that his voice made you jump. You didn't expect to be intercepted at a cross-walk, of all places. With one look at his face, you relaxed then resumed your steps. "Who are you talking about, Lockwood?"

"Kipps," he said quickly. "was he bothering you?"

"Oh," you look down at the yellow note wedged in the cover of your book. "no. He just gave me a referral for a flat."

Lockwood disappeared from your periphery. For a moment, you thought that would be the end of it, but then you remembered that whenever it involved Quill Kipps, he would never keep his nose out of it. Lockwood returned to your side not long after. "You're staying in Portland Row," he said with the conviction of a hundred unspoken confessions. "You don't need rubbish referrals."

"I can't room with you forever," you replied. You faltered because of the hurt on his face. You must have imagined it because he was back to normal in a blink of an eye. You steeled yourself. "Lockwood & Co. is a psychical agency, not a rental place. And I have weddings to plan. I need more space."

"We can make room in the library," he bargained.

You halted in your steps, raising a brow at him. "You've never seen a proper wedding planning if you think that little room will suffice. You need that space for your case documents."

"We can move them to the office," he insisted, stopping in front of you. He thought a smile would work but you didn't budge, even after he showed you his best grin. "We can make it work."

You sighed, exasperated. The street was empty, so you had nothing else to preoccupy your mind with. "Lockwood... I can't plan weddings in the same house George rants about the Problem in."

"I really don't see the issue there."

He sealed his lips when you narrowed your eyes at him.

—

If Anthony Lockwood was anything, it was petty. A few nights later, he deposited himself in the seat beside you and decided to made your business his business.

"I think the ivory looks better with that shade of violet."

You cocked a brow at him, flipping to the next page of your photo book. "Pray tell, what are you doing here?"

With an unmoving smile, he said, "Learning a thing or two about wedding planning, so I can gauge just how much room you need."

"Lockwood... You don't have to be here."

"Oh, but I do," he retorted. "Lest you make a hasty decision, like living in a flat with Quill Kipps."

He flinched when you shut the book. The cold stare you gave him was just as paralyzing. "I won't be living in a flat with Kipps. He'd be living in the floor below mine. And for your peace of mind, this isn't a hasty decision. I'm only staying here until I can afford to rent my own place."

He bit the inside of his cheek. "Why do you have to go? We're perfectly happy here, aren't we? George knows your favorite recipes, Lucy's ecstatic to have another girl around, and I— well, I . . ."

"You . . . ?" Hope, like you've never felt before, rushed through you. Your ears could hear a pin drop with how attentive you were then.

Much to your disappointment, he cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "I would hate to lose a friend."

It was flattering, truly, but you were hoping for more than that. Perhaps an indication that the kiss three years ago had actually meant something. When he said nothing about it, you reverted back to assuming your affections were unrequited. Dejected, you thumbed at the pages of the photobook.

"I won't be leaving soon, and we'd still be friends when I move somewhere else," you reassure. You found it hard to get the words out. There was a prickling feeling behind your eyes you tried to bat away. You turned your attention to the flower options splayed on the coffee table. You were seeing, but you weren't absorbing anything. "I'll be here a while so you don't have to worry."

"Right..." He sounded even more dejected than you. You fought the urge to look up at him with every fiber of your being.

Your heart fell when he got up and abandoned you in the library. Even if you were surrounded by photographs of weddings—the happiest day of some lucky people's lives—you couldn't find a drop of joy when Lockwood had taken all of it with him.

—

The thing about realizations were that they always came late. Especially for someone as dense as Anthony Lockwood.

When he had turned the events of that night over in his head, he realized that he had been a fool. He was saying something, but he wasn't actually getting a message across. For someone who valued verbal affirmation, you must have felt alienated.

He had resolved to apologize, and apologize thoroughly. He had put on his best suit under his coat and picked his best shoes (the only ones without plasma burns) before heading to the site you told Lucy you were heading to that day. He sacrificed his five turns in the biscuit rotation to get the information from her, but he couldn't be too mad about it when he finally laid his eyes on you.

You traded your usual trousers and blouse in for a dress. Not that you weren't pretty in trousers and blouses, but the fact that your dress was white altered something in his brain. Something was wrong with him. Could have been anticipation. Could have been the terrible urge to get down on one knee.

He shook his head, putting that idea on the back burner. He was there to grovel for forgiveness. He had to apologize before all else.

Lockwood, with reborn inspiration, approached. Striding closer and closer—eyes trained on you.

Only one thing was on his mind, and that one fact may have been the cause of his downfall, because he hadn't seen the toy at the lip of the pool before it was too late.

Your face grew further and further until his body had broke the surface of the water. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. All he could see was blue. All he could feel was the cold. A sharp inhale hurt. Opening his eyes stung.

Once his feet reached the bottom of the pool, sense returned to him. He kicked off, gasping for air when he reached the surface. Another splash forced him to shut his eyes.

Then he heard it: The frantic way you were calling his name.

Your hair was matted to your head and drips of water slid down your face, yet, you looked as majestic as ever. You were a vision. His voice had been stolen, perhaps his heart, too (as if it wasn't already).

He regained feeling in his face when you set your hands on his cheeks. Then the world came rushing back. The splashing of water, the commotion that caused passerbys to run, and your voice that called to him above all that.

"Anthony? Anthony! Oh, heavens, are you okay?" You smoothed the hair away from his eyes. He wondered if you knew that it made him love you even more. "That was terrible fall. Are you hurt? Bleeding?"

He shouldn't be enjoying your doting when you were so obviously stressed over his condition, but how could he think straight when you were at arm's length—just this close to touching lips with him.

And you were touching him. Your palms were warm on his cheeks, cozied up under his ears. You could feel him smile if you wanted to.

It was no place or time to think about kissing you. He had talked himself out of it countless times before, but his restraint crumbled the moment he witnessed your teeth sink into the plush of your bottom lip.

He knew it was your nervoud tick, but his mind went blank. He seared every detail into his memory before he threw caution to the wind.

He found your waist, clutched your dress, and drew you to him with the urgency that had been restrained for years.

He's not sure whether you kissed back right away, but he did know that you were. Just as eager as he was.

With ignited confidence, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your fingers carded into his hair and you clung to his shoulders for stability.

It was painfully obvious that Touch was your specialty. Every brush of your fingertips set fire across his skin. He wouldn't forget it, even if he tried. His arms wound around you, his palm finding the back of your neck to hold you fast to him.

For a second, you parted. He caught a glimpse of your dazed eyes and ephemeral smile before you brought your lips down on his once more. You could very well be the death of him.

The belief grew stronger as you grew bolder, shifting to be able to wrap your legs around him. Squeezing your thighs against waist and warranting a gasp. You felt the rumble against your lips and beneath your fingers, earning a smile.

You would have done so much worse if a rigid scoff hadn't cut through the lavender haze.

He pulled away. You blinked, still encroached by the spur of the moment. The smell of chlorine polluted the space between you, but that only made your senses heighten. You were staring at Lockwood as water clung to his lashes. He was smiling at you, and you were smiling just as much. His thumb drew circled into your waist, and your fingers grazed the nape of his neck. It was chilling, in the best way.

The scoff came again, stealing your attention. Both of you looked up at the hotel manager with sheepish grins.

"Hello, sir," Lockwood started, amping up his charm with a disarming laugh. "Contrary to what you may be thinking, this didn't happen in purpose."

The hotel manager didn't buy any of it. He raised a practiced brow and regarded Lockwood with a frown that rivaled a wishbone.

There was no corporate talk that would get you out of this. You chuckled, patting Lockwood's back for the good try, but you already knew security was on the way.

"I take it that you're not hurt?" you murmured to Lockwood.

"No. In case I am, would you like to take my shirt off and take a look for yourself?"

You two had to walk home in soaked clothes, but you did take him up on his offer. Excitedly, too. Suffice to say, he didn't have a bruise on him.

—

You and Lockwood had returned to your roots; a peaceful game of chess. You had the upper hand on the board but Lockwood felt like a winner just seeing you in his shirt.

"Just in case it wasn't clear, I'd like to be more than friends," he said. He had lost another bishop but he was fine with it because you smiled at him.

"Yes. I know that now, Anthony."

"I don't want to just be friends with benefits either."

You snorted, amused. "I understand that, too."

He didn't move a piece until you looked at him. "It would pain me if you moved out. Three years apart was bad enough."

Your gaze softened and you reached across the board to hold his hand. He was the one who laced your fingers together. "I won't be going anywhere."

"Good," he chirped, eyes alight. "because I've already began moving the shelves into the office. You can have the library for work."

Even with your best efforts, you couldn't help but laugh. He bent toward you, wishing he could bottle the sound. "You are ridiculous, you know that?"

"I do," he said, inflating his chest. "and I'd like to be your lover as well."

You cocked a brow. "Would you?"

He squeezed your hand lightly, eyes shining with determination. "I can hear you thinking, sweetheart. What do I have to do to get you to say 'yes'?"

If he hadn't stolen your heart already, the way he raised your hands to his lips and planted a kiss on each of your knuckles would have. His eyes never strayed, honey brown eyes placating yours.

"Sweetheart?" he hummed, pleading for an answer.

You drew out the silence for a little longer. You felt that it was fair for him to suffer, just for a little while. He was the catalyst for years upon years of emotional turmoil.

But he had resolved it all with another kiss, this time on the sweet spot on your wrist—just over your racing pulse.

You were kind enough to put him out of his misery. "Kiss me again."

You were weak for how he smiled then.

"Gladly," he whispered, sliding the board aside and sending the chess pieces toppling to the floor to fulfill your request.

Your complaints were squashed down by his lips. He'd never forget the way you laughed as he tackled you into his bed.

Well, it was yours now, too.

NOTE ➺ did you notice that everyone calls reader 'trouble' but lockwood calls her 'sweetheart' 👀👀 i want what they have.

i have so many ideas lined up for my boy, but i just don't have much time to write them. life got busy lol.

anyway, this is the first of many 1989 TV songfics!! master list for the whole collection will be out on 1989 TV release day, I promise. i'll do my best to finish more wips because you can never have too much anthony lockwood.

i've also been thinking about making a tag list but I'm not sure how to go about that...

as always, don't be shy to leave some feedback, constructive criticism, or cute lil comments! i love raving about my boy 💙 i hope you enjoyed this one, because this isn't the last of me!

⌠ @novelizt 2023 ⌡

#— ❨ 🌺 ❩ 𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐔𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐀 ₊˚.༄ #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood angst #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood x you #1989 TV songfic collection

[chaotikanvas]

Ok, ok, so incoming ramble about the Glamrocks that I keep thinking about under the readmore! 

Disclaimer: I can’t promise too much structure to this since I’m just putting some thoughts down, but hopefully it’s still an enjoyable read or something to think about ghfdkñkjgh

—

SO!

A while ago, when I was first planning my first ever fic for SB (which has been thoroughly planned but not written and I haven’t talked about it here at all but that’s! Beside the point!), I started really wondering how the glitch/virus worked (I will keep referring to it as virus as I think it fits a bit more).

And I was so happy that the DLC seemed to be in line with what I was thinking or at the very least it supports my headcanon in a way!

(And oh gosh this is gonna take setting the scene a bit at first so bear with me)

So, I’d like to make a note first of all, that I’m not entirely convinced Glitchtrap is gone, because the end to the princess quest 3 minigame means Vanessa gets freed from possession (via opening the door). There is not a fight with him as a boss that seems to deactivate or get rid of him once and for all, at least. But what happened to him is entirely guesswork on my part. Also, while the DLC implies very strongly that all the other endings are not canon and more stories Gregory drew himself, there are still elements from those endings that I feel cannot be discarded, and they help understand the story. (The blob does exist after all and that is only discovered in the Burntrap ending, and it is my belief that the friend that has the schematics for the underground mentioned by Gregory must be Vanessa, because Freddy seems to have only vague recollections of the place when Vanessa had him clear the way for her before, and also he is not capable of accessing all areas of even the main pizzaplex)

(Also, I squint a little wondering if they changed their minds on which ending was the true ending because the Burntrap ending is the one that has animated cutscenes and a cgi ending image. I actually like that Princess Quest is the canon ending now, since Vanessa gets to be free, but it does come with some inconsistencies. But anyways!!!)

So taking all of that into account! To me, the way the virus works, and considering that there must be a supernatural element to it due to the existence of Glitchtrap, has to do a lot with it locking away the “consciousness” of the animatronics. Much like in the way Vanessa’s true self was locked away actually! In past games, the animatronics only seemed to act outside of their programming due to possession of some kind, but these specific ones seem to actually have self-awareness. I have no doubt that the way they were programmed influences their personality, but the DLC has really emphasized that they are not actually just limited to their functions. 

They have true intelligence! Not a surprise, since Freddy was clearly self-aware since SB, but I like that it seems to be a confirmation of it being the case in general and not just an exception. And I believe this because there are animatronics that are able to snap out of it after Cassie interacts with them. They do seem to think things are normal like any day in the pizzaplex, at first (Eclipse and Roxy) and it would seem like this means they are not truly sentient, but considering that Sun was aware all this time that things were very wrong, and that Moon would attack Cassie if not rebooted, and that Roxy later awakens, realizes the danger and goes to rescue Cassie from the Mimic, makes it clear to me that their self-awareness is the real deal. 

So not only would the virus have to infiltrate the robot’s systems, but it also would have to fight against the “consciousness” of the animatronics to gain control. While we know the Burntrap ending didn’t happen, I think when we see Burntrap trying to take over Freddy is a good visual representation of what might have happened over a long span to the other animatronics.

Ok, ok so! With all that said (again gfkjh)! I’m getting to the main point of this post, which is that I cannot stop thinking about the little backstory we got for Monty and what might have happened with Bonnie!

The damaged model of Bonnie we find in Ruin makes it clear to me that yes, it must have been Monty the one who destroyed him. The scratch grooves that join with the hole in his chest do match with the marks we have seen on other spots, (I thiiink Monty’s room has them), and we know the claws are the characteristic associated with Monty.

(And here I make a sidenote acknowledging some buts, because I went back to read the SB messages, and according to those, Monty only received the upgraded claws to play the bass, which means Bonnie was already gone by then. One of the messages states clearly that Monty received modifications only after being moved to the position of bassist, when Bonnie was out of commission, so either Monty already had really strong claws or it's a bit of an oversight there, but I digress!)

But! Even with that clear evidence, and here it’s where I admit it’s more speculation on my part, I find it a bit hard to believe Monty, the real Monty, at least, would destroy Bonnie just like that. Which makes me think Monty must have been one of the first, if not THE first of the band being infected with the virus. I think it’s a generally accepted headcanon that the virus alters the glamrocks personalities in a way that some of their main character traits are twisted in a destructive way. 

Now, Monty already clearly existed back when Bonnie was in the band. He had his own (large!) area even though he wasn’t part of the main band. The DJ is large and has his own section too, but he seems confined to it and was bought from outside the plex. And Monty seems to have been able to roam around anyways, so I think that probably means the higher ups were counting on Monty being a main animatronic in the future. (I have to wonder if the whole one man band thing from the backstory was something he did do for a brief time at the start, but admittedly that could have been added just in the cardboards). 

With all this in mind, Monty was probably the newest addition, a newcomer in a place that already had the four main animatronics. Almost known by no one in the public and without an established personality in a franchise he’s never been part of before. One of the messages says Monty could be more popular than Bonnie, after Bonnie’s disappearance, which makes me think he was mostly a side attraction, and nowhere near as known as the main glamrocks. Why mention that he could be more popular if the audience was as aware of him as the band right?

So, I think the main trait programmed for Monty’s personality is ambition. The backstory in his ride seems to hint at that. A young Monty with his own little music business, looking in amazement at the Glamrocks and dreaming of one day reaching their level. It would make sense to have one of the robots have this as their main trait, since kids would relate to the big dreams. And it seems to fit with other main traits from the other Glamrocks: Roxy seems to have been made with self-confidence in mind (winning races and having a beauty salon) which might be for encouraging kids, Chica is obviously all for being chipper and energetic and enjoying food (useful in an entertainment establishment that wants kids to indulge and get their parents to spend their money when they’re having a good time), and Freddy is meant to be nice and fatherly and the approachable gentle main face of the franchise.

(Though I am a bit sad Chica gets pushed aside a bit in regards to explicitly showing what she’s really like)

(As a small parenthesis from all this, I want to say that the Pizzaplexes troubles with the virus (or at least the more worrying behavior of the animatronics) are likely relatively recent before Gregory’s arrival. Could be months or a couple of years, don’t know how much exactly, but the fact that there are old messages all around, how some of those help give Gregory hints to where he can find stuff that is still there, how Bonnie’s Bowling Alley has not been rethemed to get rid of the evidence of his existence, Freddy’s hurt over Bonnie being gone sounding (at least to me) still fresh rather than from that long ago, and the message about the disappearances makes me think it can’t have started a decade ago or something like that)

Anyways! 

The Monty “rise to fame” story from the ride establishes that Bonnie “gave” his bass to Monty in order to have him join the band, though that Bonnie cutout is obscured. If they really wanted to make it seem like Monty had retired, why not make a cutout with the most important part of the story clear? They made one with Roxanne styling Monty’s hair! So maybe the plan had been to establish that (in the “in universe” narrative for the animatronics) Bonnie would be the Glamrock that took Monty under his wing and teach him the ropes of being a star? Though probably not with the plans of having him be a Glamrock at all, but maybe appearances with a Glamrock would increase the chances of the new gator attraction succeeding (again, speculation on my part, I know).

Coming back around Monty likely being the newest addition, him still not being established as a popular character would maybe mean that he was an easy target to spread the virus. Way more attention would be paid to the main stars, I think, so I think the probability of him being infected from almost the start is high. And with his main trait being ambition, and Bonnie maybe having been planned to be a sort of pathway to him being more known, it wouldn’t surprise me that by the time the incident happens, the virus has already twisted Monty’s ambition into jealousy and aggression and so he ended up destroying Bonnie that one day. Was Bonnie summoned by Monty? Did Bonnie go to Monty out of his own will because he noticed something was wrong? (which ouch if that was the case. It could very well be even that Vanny noticed that Bonnie noticed something was off and had Monty dispose of Bonnie in order to not have any secrets exposed) Who knows! But this is mostly what I think happened.

And why am I so convinced Monty would not have done this without the virus’ influence? Well… Mostly because of Roxy.

In the main game, Roxy is such a bully. Many of the phrases she says are outright cruel, and at a point where Gregory has done nothing to her yet. But in the DLC we see Roxy as she was meant to be. Encouraging. Lifting a child’s spirits up. Assuring them that they are fantastic how they are. 

We know that Cassie is a lonely child. A bit of an outcast who probably spent a lot of time in the plex while her dad worked. We know that her friends did not show up to her birthday and she treasures Gregory as a friend for being there when she was down. Cassie, seems to me, is the kind of child that would be an easy target for bullying. Insecurities and loneliness seem to be main struggles for her, which is why, if Roxanne was already a bully without the virus, why would she be Cassie’s favorite? Why would she be so nice to this kid that obviously needs the confidence boost Roxanne was made to provide? One of Roxanne’s literal lines in SB towards Gregory is “I bet you don’t even have friends!” Knowing that Roxanne knows this is an issue for Cassie, it seems even more brutal that if she’s in her right mind she would use that as an insult when chasing after Gregory. The Roxanne we see in Ruin is so kind. She is a source of comfort for Cassie, soft spoken, and making sure she feels like number one, instead of being self-obsessed (even if it’s born out of extreme anxiety over her own image). 

So if there is such an extreme change from a virus riddled Roxy, why would Monty’s extremes not be the same? We know not even Freddy is exempt from this sort of change though this one is more evidence from the books (slight not too consequential book spoiler and can’t quote from which book exactly it was, but I remember there was an off handed mention of Glamrock Freddy fighting over a plushie with a kid and then feeling dejected when people got angry at him, so it seems if Freddy was ever truly infected, his change of personality would entail being a spoiled main star?).

And it makes sense! Because Freddy considers all the Glamrocks his friends! We know Chica cares for him, because in the intro to SB she takes a step towards him when he malfunctions. And in the base SB game it looks like Freddy is just in denial about his friends (with the arcade minigolf game even having the famous Freddy in a trashbin course to hint at Monty’s jealousy, which you know could very well a real danger with what happened to Bonnie) (and now that I’m writing that it makes me squint a little at that arcade, since it’s very heavily implied the arcade in Sun and Moon’s room infected them so hmmmmmmm, but I digress), but honestly, seeing Roxy acting how it seems she’s supposed to act right before Cassie turns her off as the final node, really makes me think that the true selves of the animatronics are pushed back by the virus to replace them with a caricature of themselves that will obey Vanny’s commands. I mean, the Glamrock Freddy body is completely headless, and doesn’t even appear in the AR world! I don’t know whether it “attacks” because it’s what it would do if infected, or if it is simply leftover code from the way Freddy hid Gregory in his chest, but there sure as heck isn’t anything resembling a consciousness in there. Besides, we know Vanny was invisible to Freddy.

And if consciousness really is pushed aside by the virus, then it would explain why Monty is like that right now. (At least if my speculation of him being the longest with the virus is true) He would know nothing but anger and at this point he is acting like all he knows how to do is attack. Monty’s mind seems to truly be absolutely gone by now. :(

But aaaah this is getting way too long now fkjdghkjf

I guess I just want to talk about Bonnie a bit more, because we don’t have that much more about him that I can form any conclusions about. I do love the poster in his room! The fact that he really was this close to Freddy! They saw each other everyday and Freddy still decided to write a heartfelt message for Bonnie, that Bonnie decided to hang where he would see it clearly everyday! It really seems that Bonnie cared for Freddy just as much and that makes me so happy! It makes it all the sadder to know how heartbroken Freddy is over Bonnie’s disappearance…

Also I am incredibly confused by the whole wetfloor bot stuff! I don’t know if it’s implied that Bonnie’s “consciousness” somehow managed to transfer to the small bots (or why children screams can be heard from them), and if he managed to stay present through them after all. The little bots never really try to harm or sound alarms on Gregory unless shot at I think, so there’s that to think about! Or maybe Glamrock Bonnie was able to connect himself to them but not transfer? Kind of as long as there are any functional he too would be able to hang on? (Or did someone did that for him and it wasn’t himself who did?) Because deactivating the ones where we find Bonnie makes Bonnie’s eyes go dark. But why?? This I really have no idea about!

There’s also that one floorbot that remains beside a pile of Monty’s merch! And if Bonnie is looking or controlling the wetfloor bots that could mean a lot of things!! If Bonnie is in control, is the bot gathering the merch? Is it a negative thing? A sort of attempt to just collect the merch so it can’t be found ever again like Bonnie himself was? Or maybe, if Bonnie did have the most contact with Monty, did he get to know the real not-virus-infected Monty, and saw the merch as a way to remember someone that was briefly a good friend before things went terribly wrong? Hmmmmmm…

Well, I think that’s all I have! Just wanted to get my thoughts out there! It’s not very organized but if you made it all the way to here, thank you for reading!

#oh also! I love that they made Monty capable of being underwater even in such a state! #I always had the headcanon that Monty was waterproof and capable of swimming in his golf course hehe #so I was excited about that XD #ruin dlc #kanvas writes #because I sure wrote almost 3k about this jhgfdkjhlkj #fnaf sb ruin dlc #fnaf security breach #security breach #fnaf #glamrock bonnie #montgomery gator #glamrock freddy #roxanne wolf #fnaf ruin dlc spoilers #ruin dlc spoilers #I have many more thoughts about the dlc in general #about the mimic and mxes and of course our dear DCA but this is already so long and I'm a bit tired of typing XD #so yeah! #throws this at you I hope there aren't many mistakes fksdjg

[alexiethymia]

As promised, Death on the Ice Field

Nothing I say here will be new since the themes have been tackled plenty of times in fanfic (which I am so thankful for), but it’s still fun regardless. I feel like I usually have to put the disclaimer that this is a HitsuHina blog, because I think I will always have more to say about them.

Like Death on the Ice Field for example. It frustrates me the anime didn’t show Momo’s part here, because I’ve always believed that she was as crucial to Rangiku and Granny in setting up Toshiro on the path of a shinigami and meeting Hyourinmaru.

The way I see it, Momo was the spark, the impetus, Rangiku showed the way, while Granny allowed him to go. The special chapter, in my view, was all about awakenings or an awareness of change. It was Momo leaving which reminded Toshiro about things changing. It’s an allegory of sorts about growing up. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that perhaps this chapter also showed the start of his awareness of his budding feelings towards her (I mean there will always be naysayers and live and let live, but even without the relationship chart, I don’t think you’d blush at your sister or sister-figure no matter how close she was).

Another thing is how when he says Momo and Granny were the only ones never to be afraid of him, he says next that that’s why he likes Granny, but he doesn’t say the same of Momo. I’ve always thought Kubo excelled in his use of negative space, but that also applies to the dialogue-variant in that he seriously leaves a lot of things unsaid and interactions unexplored (Isshin reuniting with Rangiku and Toshiro, Kirio with Hiyori). It leaves a lot of room for interpretation and makes things fun for fans. Personally, I always read it as him being unsure of his feelings for Momo now, again something brought to his awareness with her leaving, a characteristic tsundere response if you could say.

He measures time by the number of years she entered the academy, and while she still smiles brightly at him - the same smile she graced him with five years ago - she no longer faces back (to Toshiro, Jurinan, take your pick) when saying goodbye the way she did the first time she left. And unlike five years ago where Toshiro just scowls and says she shouldn’t bother visiting anymore, this time he no longer keeps the pretense up, he waves back, though a bit limply because Momo doesn’t even see it, only facing forward, sure in her goal. (Be careful what you wish for and all that.)

So when Grandma says at the end that Toshiro didn’t want to make her lonely, it brings to mind what she said while scolding Toshiro that he shouldn’t say what he said because doesn’t Momo leaving make him feel lonely? He doesn’t deny it either, only pretends that everything is ok and that she’ll be back soon anyway. It’s also no coincidence, I think, that Granny wanted to talk to him right after Momo visited again. In other words, he didn’t want to make Granny lonely the same way Momo leaving made him feel lonely. But that theme of loneliness also applies to Hyourinmaru. Both sword and master would always feel lonely if Toshiro never discovered his name. And if you take Bleach Track 8 as canon (which I do because I love that Drama CD), there’s something to be said about Toshiro discovering Hyourinmaru’s name out of a desire to protect Momo, and Momo being the first to discover him discovering his shikai and subsequently calling him ‘Hitsugaya-kun’ without any prompting this time. In a way, it was a mark of growing up for Toshiro. That’s why there’s plenty of underlying themes between Hyourinmaru and Hinamori in relation to Toshiro that I love to see explored, which @rays-of-fire-and-ice does wonderfully in their fic! That theme of loneliness was also present in Momo during the Soul Society arc (and truthfully for a lot of characters) when she must have felt so isolated because of everything going on around her.

Laying it all out like this, you can really see the parallels with how Toshiro wakes up to both Momo and Rangiku, and how the line “I hear a voice” gets repeated for both Momo and his Granny. I don’t know how intentional Kubo really is with references to mythology, but it’s a fun coincidence to liken the three of them to the fates - Momo as the Maiden, Rangiku as the Mother, and Grandma as the crone - all pivotal to Toshiro’s path.

#hitsugaya toshiro #hitsuhina #hinamori momo #matsumoto rangiku #bleach #ramblings about bleach #ramblings about hitsuhina #toshiro’s granny #do we still not have a name?? #I feel like someone on Klub should ask Kubo #that one moment of hyourinmaru sitting between hinamori and hitsugaya during that flower viewing party sticks with me for some reason #like why hyourinmaru? #was it a coincidence? #did he want to look after both hinamori and hitsugaya? #I can spin so many stories from that one anime moment alone #and I also cannot get over how he left his granny despite how much it broke his heart because he was harming her #but when he did the worst thing he could imagine doing to momo #he didn’t remove himself from her life #and instead reaffirmed his will to protect her #I’m sure the guilt was there and there was probably a time when he couldn’t face her #as shown when Momo says it was Rangiku and Shinji who helped her recover after FK #but if you believe they grew apart during the Aizen years and Soul Society arc #like gin and rangiku and renji and rukia #it’s nice to know that they both learned from the past #and resolved to hold on to the things dear to them #rather than letting go #to tie rather than untie #and this is why filler stuff is great for stuff like this #to know that amidst all the seriousness of war #they still do hang out and spend time together outside of work post-Aizen

[restinsodaroni]

I'll try posting the FAQ this way lol, hopefully this works better! So read below to see the asks I will and won't accept or answers to common questions I get! I'll be linking this in my pinned post!

Alright! Please read this before sending in an ask!

REMEMBER AN ACTUAL PERSON (Me) RUNS THIS ACCOUNT NOT SUN OR MOON! KEEP THAT IN MIND BEFORE SENDING ANYTHING!! THANK YOU!!

🚫Evidently I am going to have to be stricter now since I have been creeped out numerous times on here. So yeah I will be blocking folks who keep disregarding my boundaries or just being impolite! Sorry! 🚫

Hey so please don't:

• Send me any questions that ask about what would Sun and Moon do if you were harming yourself no matter the severity or the circumstances. It makes me uncomfortable and I shouldn't have to explain why.

• Spam the same ask especially everyday! That is not gonna get me to answer you. Spamming = Block I am not going to be lenient about this anymore!

• Send me an ask to change Y/N's body type.

Here's a post where I talk about said boundaries.

Can I draw you fanart or send you a fic centered around your AU?

How do you pronounce your Username?

It's rest in sodaroni ! It's a play on the phrase rest in pepperoni. I made a joke about it a while ago with my sibling and decided to make it my username lol. Yes I know separating the words would have been ideal, but I'm not changing it now!

Sure you can! As long as it’s sfw then its fine!

Are you ok with nsfw being sent to you?

I am not! I’d like to keep this blog sfw please! 

How come you haven’t answered my ask?

Well that’s because I get sent A LOT of asks. And a majority of them need comic responses which takes time to do. Not to mention my schedule is pretty hectic, even when I have free time I don't know if I'll have time to myself lol.

And I have other projects, art, and my Daycare Attendant fics I want to work on too sometimes. So just know if you send in an ask it may take me a while to answer it!

Also I may not have a good idea how to answer your ask at the time. Or I'm just overwhelmed at the moment lol 😅 And please don't spam the same ask in my inbox. Spamming = Block

Where can I read your fanfics?

You can read them right here!

‼️ Disclaimer! Please read the tags and summary for either fics! I don't want you to be blindsided when you find out the fic isn't 100% fluff or wholesome! Just gonna give you a heads up lol ‼️

When will the next chapter of your fic(s) be out?

I promise you I'm working on it! It just takes me longer because of the drawings since I am putting more effort into them now!

Can I use one of your drawings as an icon, wallpaper, etc?

Yeah that’s fine!

Why did you draw Sun, Moon, or Eclipse like *Insert questions here*?

Why does anyone draw the way they do? Because I wanted to lol, and I like how it looks. That's basically it haha.

Can you draw me/myoc/my sun and moon/a meme?

Sure! But please send a picture of what you want me to draw! I got a handful of asks that requested this but sent me no reference photos so I don’t know what to draw lol.

Also don't send me drawing prompts of your characters/You getting too intimate with Sun and Moon or even Y/n. (Yes, I have to add Y/n on here now...)

If you want a hug cool, anything more than that I will probably not draw since some people can't behave lol.

If you send a question about wanting to be mean or even hurt Sun or Moon just don't get upset by the response you are given lol. It's just a comic, it's not real and Sun and Moon are not really mad.

Where do you get your gifs/screenshots of the Daycare Attendant?

I watch a lot of Fnaf security breach sfm videos on YouTube so sometimes I come across a funny video clip and screenshot or make a gif of it.

Who is your favorite? Sun or Moon?

I’ll be honest, I can’t pick between the two lol. I like them both!

I don't like your art style/ I don't like how you draw Sun, Moon, or Eclipse/ One of your drawings came out weird lol / You don't draw as good as the other artists.

It's fine if you don't like my art style, but please just keep it to yourself, your blog, your friends, your grandmother, or whatever. Like idk why people on here felt the need to tell this to me, but yeah don't do that. And no, telling me you don't like my art style but like my comics isn't the compliment you think it is. I wouldn't have cared so much until I got a few people telling me this pretty much every time I posted. I ignored it as long as I could lol 🤷🏻‍♀️

This pertains to a few asks so I'll address it here:

I know when someone is fetish farming, I'm not naive lol. Like it seems really suspicious when I have the same person/anon desperately trying to get me to draw a specific ask 👀 soooo cut that shit out lol. It's very creepy and goes against my consent. Also chill with the dark humor.

*Ok so I’m going to be talking about a heavy topic here so read no further if you experience thoughts of self-harm or depressive thoughts!*

I don’t believe I would get an ask like this again but this is just in case! ( Edit: nevermind I did get more asks pertaining to self-harm smh ) I don’t mind drawing you something if you had a bad day, but I will not draw something for someone who requesting me to comfort them with a drawing of Sun or Moon because they self-harmed. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but I just can’t. I go over my reasoning in this post. Please don't send me any self-harm related questions!

*End of the serious topic!*

And that should be it! I may update this down the line! Thank you for taking the time to read this!

#restinsodaroni talking

[decepti-thots]

I'm having mild A Few Days (Or So) Later Anxiety™ and wanted to add a disclaimer to my comment on the post where you talked about MTMtE/LL being regarded as fanfiction about how I defo think its done to de-legitimize official works (purposefully or not), but that I defo don't think fanfiction isn't a legitimate form of art/writing also? I dunno, I probably have nothing to worry about, but anxiety is Like That sometimes haha. (that said though, your thoughts that you mentioned would be interesting to see I think!)

Haha, well, I'm the one who made the post, so nothing to worry about there, I promise! I don't think you came across as dismissive of fic at all. As you say, talking about how that's why people use that 'accusation' doesn't necessarily mean you agree with the underlying logic.

As for my thoughts…

One thing that frustrates me whenever I try and discuss this is actually something you hit on the head here I think inadvertently- people who write fanfiction (like myself!) often tend to respond with a kneejerk reaction whenever someone says [xyz] isn't fanfic, because we assume, often incorrectly, they must mean 'it's Too Good to be fanfiction'. But that's not the case! Fanfic is as unique as any form of creative work, and saying something like MTMTE isn't fanfic is no more an insult to fanfic than, say, pointing out the Mona Lisa isn't a watercolour painting is an insult to watercolour artists. It's just an observation around what a work is or is not.

I get it- fanfic is often very specifically looked down on just for being fanfic, and we tend to get defensive over things we care about. I've been writing fanfic since I was eight, so over two decades now; it's a huge part of my life and one I don't like people to be unfairly dismissive of. But one of the things which I love about fanfic is that it does certain specific things that other mediums don't or often even can't, and I think describing every bit of remotely transformative work as 'fanfic' really robs us of that nuance.

MTMTE is not 'officially published fanfic' because it is subject to certain editorial requests and constraints that fanfic just… isn't. And this fact massively impacts how it unfolds as a work. The fact CDRW only gradually reveal themselves as a romantic couple is a very blatant example of this. Roberts had to ask IDW's permission to have gay characters. Who in turn had to ask Hasbro's permission. The result is a very gradual amping up of the subtext, and that means the serialized storytelling functions differently than if MTMTE was just his fanwork or whatever. The annotated scripts and notebooks he's given us make all of this very clear- there are numerous points where he's like, 'and then Barber asked me to cut this', etc. In turn, MTMTE received editorial scrutiny and support no fic is likely to, even with the most dedicated beta reader, and is in conversation with other writers' ideas in ways that it can use to its advantage. It is a different comic than a fancomic might be in ways that relate to it being published, and what the process of publishing a comic looks like.

But even beyond that, there are things like what I brought up in that post about 'original characters', for example. In fanfic, the understanding is that OCs are an indulgence in most cases on the part of the author. This isn't always true- but often it is! And that's a good thing, because fanfic is something people should enjoy and be self-indulgent with. But like. In a work like MTMTE, characters like Rung are not introduced purely because the author wants to make a mark on a pre-existing canon or insert themself into the story. They are usually introduced because they are needed narratively speaking. Rung is required for the narrative that Roberts has planned from the very beginning, and he cannot be a pre-existing character within that framework without it fundamentally changing the way the story reads. Similar to, say, characters like Tarn. So when people talk about these characters like they're OCs he somehow snuck into Real Transformers Canon TM, we lose a lot of interesting discussion about what those characters do as pieces of the story, because the assumption becomes 'they are there because Roberts wanted to make his OCs canon'.

And finally, we have this odd feeling that somehow MTMTE isn't 'real' Transformers canon because even its fans treat it like fanfiction turned official and see just the 'fanfic' part of that idea, not the 'official' bit. So suddenly, the only way any of it can be implicitly legitimized is by having stuff show up elsewhere. Like hey, Tarn showing up in Cyberverse was GREAT, but Tarn was a 'real Transformers character' before that. Y'know? Again, fanfic NOT being 'real canon' is literally a part of what makes it great- fanfic, far from being lessened by its non-canonicity, is enriched by the way that changes how it reads to its audience contextually and what it can do. But trying to read MTMTE through that lens makes no sense, and tbh, it feels very much like people are being almost… defensive about liking it in a way I find unnecessary and self-defeating.

And it is reeeeeal telling to me that exRiD does not get this treatment. Aileron is not 'Barber's OC', people do not hedge their bets on its appeal to the broader TF fanbase. You know? Some combination of knowing Roberts used to write fanfic and its content being seen as somehow 'fanfic like' (read: character driven and heavily interested in romance and interpersonal relationships) drives us more towards that view for MTMTE as a fandom.

And just to finish off: I've read a lot more of Roberts' fic than a lot of people in this fandom, I suspect. I can tell you right now, his fanfic and his MTMTE work honestly… don't overlap that much. There are things you can point to, but MTMTE is a completely different ballgame in almost every way. I know it's beating a dead horse and this point to say, but one would not necessarily recommend Eugenesis, for example, to a MTMTE fan. To put it lightly.

[actual-changeling]

hi! I’ve been v hesitant to ask this question because you’ve said you don’t want to talk about this anymore and also I just really don’t want to bother you or be the cause of any further upset/frustration/etc. so please please don’t feel like you have to answer this!!! This is a very general question though and I mean it more in relation to fic as a whole, not one individual (or even one fandom).

You answered an ask a few days ago describing some of the problems with people portraying PTSD and other mental illnesses in a medically inaccurate way in fics. And you mentioned that it’s okay for people who have the diagnosis in question to write in a way that’s not necessarily medically accurate, because it can be cathartic or help people process and cope with their illness (I’m paraphrasing, so please correct me if I misunderstood). I agree with you— I don’t write fic but I sometimes read semi unrealistic depictions of my own mental illness in fic because I do find it cathartic and comforting at times, so I can see how writing would be the same. And I also agree that unrealistic portrayals of mental illness can be harmful when the readers are people who don’t know about the mental illness in question.

But I struggle with reconciling those two ideas in reality. It’s probably easier when you know other writers, but I don’t know any ao3 authors personally. So I don’t know how to figure out if someone is writing a fic with a medically inaccurate depiction of a mental illness because they also have that mental illness and are taking comfort from writing the fic the same way I’m taking comfort in reading it, or if they’re just not bothering to do their research. And so I’m really stuck on how to interact with those fics in a way that doesn’t perpetuate harm, but also doesn’t invalidate authors (and readers who might be like me!!) who are genuinely using it as a means of coping with their own struggles. The only thing I can think of is to limit myself to fics where the author discloses that they have the illness and know it’s not realistic, but that also feels really dangerous and wrong? Because I think it would just lead to people claiming illnesses they don’t have (which is problematic for all kinds of reasons but also just doesn’t help the spread of misinformation). Plus I’m not comfortable disclosing my specific diagnoses on the internet, so I wouldn’t be comfortable expecting other people to do it either. But I’m not sure how to deal with it otherwise.

Do you have any suggestions on the best way to navigate this? I’ve been thinking about it a lot since I saw your ask because it’s something I don’t really have an answer to, but I want to minimize the harm caused by misinformation. You’ve given a lot of helpful answers on this issue, so I’d be grateful for your perspective if you don’t mind sharing!! No pressure to answer though! I really don’t want to be a bother! (also sorry this got really long!)

You're definitely not a bother, anon, I'm happy to steer this ship back to a general conversation about topics like this <3 My passion about it has not died down at all. Completely drama free post incoming, promise.

You bring up a really good point, and the answer is neither clear-cut nor final and mostly related to my personal feelings on the matter and how I handle it.

To broadly summarize, there are three different kinds of representation when it comes to (mental) disorders and illnesses: accurate and respectful, inaccurate but not harmful, and inaccurate and harmful. The first and third one are presumably pretty easy to deal with, and as soon as something becomes harmful the intention behind it only marginally matters, it more relates to how the person reacts to criticism rather than the impact it has on other people.

"Inaccurate but not outright harmful" is a giant gray zone, though, and I struggle navigating that sometimes, too.

I think the first point to consider is tagging, disclaimers, and author's notes. If I write about a topic inaccurately, like hand-wavey medical facts for plot purposes ("yes the character got stabbed yes they're fine two weeks after, just bear with me here" kinda stuff), I will leave a note somewhere plus usually a tag that says exactly that. AO3 has a bunch of different tags for every topic imaginable, and tagging your fic properly should go without saying. That way the reader goes into it knowing that whatever information is presented is probably wrong in some way and not to be taken at face value.

It works the same way for these topics, a small note somewhere that hey, this is gonna be inaccurate just so you know, and there is literally zero issues (again, assuming the content is not actually harmful in some way). Asking an author to add a tag should be met with understanding, so if you think a fic would need an x inaccuracy tag for something it doesn't hurt to ask.

The second point kinda ties into the first one, which is personal comfort. If you're reading something that's not very close to reality but not offensive in any way, it just makes you uncomfortable, then opting out is always an option. Fandoms should really go back to using the term squick, something that isn't an outright trigger but you prefer to stay away from it anyway.

Any fic that just has a vibe you don't resonate with can be left behind and scrolled by, and i doubt anyone would ever be mad about that.

There is another scenario I think is worth mentioning, which is reading a fic that hasn't been tagged as x is inaccurate in some way but presents inaccurate information. In those cases I personally first assume unintentional ignorance, and I think leaving a comment along the lines of "hey did you do x intentionally because it's inaccurate in y way (totally fine if you did, just asking in case you didn't know)". The authors reaction to that usually tells you everything you need to know, either yes it was intentional in which case you can ask them to tag it as such or it was unintentional and they correct it or turn out to be a bigot that does not care.

So to try and summarize it, disclaimers are a necessity and solve most issues regarding that, and authors tend to be fine correcting something if they accidentally got it wrong. I agree that no one should have to disclose any personal information, but it also makes no difference when the content they write is hurtful, that's a clear-cut scenario and does not have anything to do with interpretation. All other cases are just a matter of personal comfort and asking for clarification if you want to.

I hope my response was helpful, anon, if you (or anyone else) have any follow-up questions, let me know!

#alex answers asks #fandom culture #author responsibility #the last of us #tlou

[slutnali]

Answer two of the wips asks you haven’t done yet

oo ty bestie 💜✨ [sorry this is a lil late]

🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

This is something I've been working on for years on and off because it's one of those types that I just have so much love for and so many HC's and things I want to do. I actually have an outline of it and it's very much slice of life throughout Denali and Rosé's relationship. The series is called Best Part named after the song by H.E.R and Daniel Ceasar and each update will be named after a love song [haven't decided what to name the first one though rip]

Denali just bought her own space to open up her bakery. She meets contractor/handywoman Rosé at the hardware store [h*me dep*t] and they get to talking ofc in which Rosie agrees to take a look at the state of the bakery and eventually agrees to help with renovations

This series is very much my baby and there's themes about growing up Latina and the expectations put on by your family to be a woman of the house and tend to the men.. themes of some challenges/discomfort masc lesbians face, acts of service as a love language, food & cooking as a love language, the beauty of femme x masc/butch relationships [disclaimer: all types of lesbian relationships are valid‼️ for this fic series i just wanted to explore a different type of dynamic? if thats the right word? for these two bc theyre usually written femme x femme in most, if not all lesbian fics]

Its just so warm and full of love, like a freshly baked loaf of sweet bread

also features Jan as Rosé's younger sister who is an interior decorator, their cousin Lemon as Jan's assistant, Lagoona as Jan's partner and childhood bff to rosie, ex chocolatier Priyanka who quit her job to work with Nali and cake/cookie decorator Willow. maybe more to come but i doubt it

❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

By the time they’d dropped off the sweets a very hormonal Jan had been craving, it’d been dark out and neither wanted to attempt showing up to a restaurant knowing it’d still be full to the brim with patrons waiting to be seated and stressed waiters running about. 

So they opt for grabbing pizza and heading to Denali’s place instead with Rosé promising she’d take her on an actual date next time.

Next time.

The promise rings in Denali’s ears and she has to hold back the cheeky smile that threatens to form across glossed lips. Whether Rosé was confident this would go well or not, neither could be sure, but it’d be a lie if she said she didn’t admire her confidence and eagerness in wanting to spend more time with her.

“What’re you thinking about?”

With a (somewhat sheepish) shake of her head in response, Denali says, “Just happy they fixed the elevator.”

#rosenali #wip game #bakernali au #answered #this snippet is unedited but idec

[seraandthebees]

Okay here’s the post I promised a while back about how Solas fits into my canon state!

First off disclaimer that I know there are kinda two poles of how people tend to feel about Solas - either loving him as a romance option or hating him. I am at neither of those. I think he’s a really complex character that I really love but in no way is his relationship with my inquisitor romantic (she’s a lesbian). Just putting that out here in case anyone misunderstands the vibe of this post.

Okay that put aside, let’s begin. Like I mentioned on my Introduction to Herah post, Herah values her friends and loved ones above anything else and she will do almost anything to protect them, even if that means going to extreme lengths. Her loyalty is her downfall as it were. So obviously that means she wants to redeem Solas, if we’re going by canon.

However, I diverge pretty far from canon from mid-DAI as Solas reveals of his own free will his true identity to significant other Dorian and best friend Herah. I believe that his character is open to interpretation in a way that, if he can actually be convinced that there are things in this world that he can’t or doesn’t want to lose, he will go back on his plans. Just look at how he talks to an Inquisitor who has fostered a good relationship with him at the end of Trespasser. He wants to be convinced otherwise.

I think I’m just interested in exploring what would happen if he came to the realisation on his own that he could no longer go through with his plans and having both a best friend and a lover at stake, particularly if there are two different people who are disproving his world view. The thing with Trespasser is that he views the Inquisitor as an exception, perhaps at least partially as a result of the anchor. When two pieces of evidence lie in front of you, however, it’s a bit harder to ignore or dismiss your doubts.

To explore this idea further, I wrote this fic on how he tells Dorian his true identity. I will probably at some point write something on how he breaks this news to Herah, narrating her reaction.

Skip to later on and you might be asking how the premise of Trespasser and DA4 would even work if all of this is the case and that’s a pretty fair question. Even without everything I’ve just said, I am a firm believer that DA4 would be done best if Solas is a red herring and the real danger is the Evanuris.

So I wrote a Trespasser fic on this diversion from canon wherein Solas returns just as any other companion does. This one’s a bit longer so I’ll just provide a quick summary in case anyone’s interested but doesn’t have the time to read it:

In the years between the defeat of Corypheus and the start of Trespasser, Solas and Dorian went to Tevinter to enact change. They were invited back for the Exalted Council.

After the discovery of the gaatlok, Solas begins to hear the Eluvian and he and Dorian find it, informing Herah. An extra bit of relevant information is that Solas has still been gathering Eluvians, using them as a means of transporting freed slaves from Tevinter without risking them being caught.

Given the nature of the mission, Herah takes along Solas, Dorian, and the Iron Bull through the Eluvians. As they realise where they're being led, Solas begins to put the pieces together and work out what's going on.

Bull betrays the Inquisitor, returning his loyalty to the Qun. (Important side knowledge: Herah in this version of my canon sacrificed the Chargers in order to save lives by stopping the Red Lyrium from going any further. I'll probably talk about this more later but this isn't the post for that.)

At the end, they are confronted by Elgar'nan who was able to slip through the Breach in the Veil just as demons can. He reveals that he wants to bring back all of the Evanuris, bring back Ancient Arlathan, and get revenge on Solas.

So the threat for DA4 then becomes the Evanuris as led by Elgar'nan, which I like to think parallels the ending of Trespasser well and hopefully will be compatible with the scope of DA4 (although who knows on that front). Solas agrees to join back with Herah to fight against this threat, considering it of his own creation. The Inquisition is preserved in order to divert Elgar'nan's attention elsewhere while Solas and Dorian remain undercover in Tevinter, anticipating that that's the most likely place for Elgar'nan to make his first move.

Herah's friendship with Solas is built on their combined loyalty to one another even when they recognise their disagreements. He plays an important part in Herah's journey throughout, and that's also the reason she sends him away at the end of DAI even though she really doesn't want to because her gut is telling her she needs the space even though she remains loyal to him throughout those two years apart. Part of this is also about protecting Sera, and maintaining the tricky balance of having a girlfriend who's wary of magic, being a mage herself, and having two best friends who are mages, one of whom being one of the most powerful beings in Thedas.

Again, I will at some point make a post about the dynamic between these four (who as a result end up spending a lot of time together) and how they all learn to respect and get along better even if only for Herah's sake.

I feel like I've rambled a lot here, but I think I've said all that needs to be said on this. If you've gotten this far, I hope you enjoyed the read as much as I've enjoyed tinkering with canon over the past few years!

#my canon #canon tinkering #oc: herah adaar #solas #dragon age inquisition #I bent canon so far out of shape it doesn't spring back

[mistiell]

This event is CLOSED

Surprise!!

I finally came up with an event to celebrate reaching 500 followers! I decided to do a mix of prompt requests and match up requests. Prompts will be listed at the bottom of this post.

DISCLAIMER!!

As of right now, I’m anticipating that most of the prompts will be short little blurbs. Some might be a little longer depending on what I can come up with from the prompt you’ve given me, but I can’t promise a full length fic for every single request.

I also can’t promise that I’ll get to every single one of these. I will do my absolute best, but I can’t guarantee anything.

All that being said, how is this going to work?

Prompt Rules

- Tell me which prompt/prompts you want me to write as well as which category it’s from. (Example: Fluff prompt 1 OR “You’re such a dork/But I’m your dork”)

- Specify the fandom and the character/characters you want it to be about. The list of fandoms and characters I write for are on my Request Rules which are here.

- Specify whether it should be platonic or romantic

- If you want reader to be Fem or Male, please tell me! Otherwise, I’m just going to write them as GN.

- If you want to get a little more specific and add onto the prompts a bit, go for it! (In fact, it’s encouraged)

Matchup Rules

- A description of who you are/what you look like that’s as in depth as you’re comfortable with (though the longer, the better!)

- List some of your interests! Could be music taste, hobbies, favourite movies/media in general, etc.

- Tell me which Fandom you’d like to be matched up with. The list of fandoms and characters I write for are on my Request Rules which are here.

- None of these headcanons will be NSFW.

Prompts

Fluff

1. “You’re such a dork”

“But I’m your dork.”

2. “You noticed?”

3. “You remembered?”

4. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“Baby, I just rolled out of bed.”

“Okay, and?”

5. “That really suits you.”

6. “Can you braid my hair? You’re the only one that does it right.”

7. “Love. Me. Now.”

8. “Shut up and help me, damn it.”

9. “Since when do you watch [favourite show/movie]?”

“Since somebody peer pressured me into watching it and got me hooked.”

10. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

11. “You look so good!”

“Sweetheart. Baby. Light of my life. I love you, you know that. But I am not setting a single toe outside that door looking like this.”

12. “Oooh, someone looks fancy!”

“Shut up before I kick your ass.”

13. “Ah, ah, ah, you haven’t paid your tax yet.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Maybe. But I’m still going to hold your food hostage until you give me a kiss.”

14. “You listen to [band/singer]?”

“Yeah?”

“Since when?”

“Since always??”

15. “I thought you forgot.”

“Your birthday? Babe, I would never!”

16. “Just shut up and take the fucking jacket, [name].”

17. “I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you.”

18. “Okay, so we may have a small problem-.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake- What did you do this time?”

19. “How the fuck are you still standing?!”

“Fuck if I know!”

20. “Did you change your flavour of chapstick? I can’t quite tell what it is. *kiss* Hang on. *kiss* Almost got it. *kiss* cherry?”

Comfort

1. “Hold me? Please?”

2. “Can I just… can I have a hug?”

3. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

4. “Hey, woah, look at me. You’re safe. Just… breathe with me, okay?”

5. “You don’t have to justify your feelings to me. I’m not like them.”

6. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We can just be for awhile.”

7. “Do you, uh… want a hug? Or something? ‘Cause I can totally do that if needed.”

8. “Oh no, no, no, please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll cry, and then we’ll be stuck here for another hour crying together.”

9. “Talking about your feelings doesn’t make you weak, [name]. If anything, it makes you stronger.”

10. “Screw those bastards! You’re ten times better than they’ll ever be.”

11. “It’s okay to cry. Sometimes, that’s exactly what you need to just… get it all out, y’know?”

12. “Please don’t go. I… I don’t think I can be alone right now.”

13. “Stay. Please.”

14. “I can’t- I can’t breathe!”

15. “What can I do to help?”

16. “Leave me alone.”

“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me for as long as it takes to cheer you up.”

17. “Why do you even love me?”

“Why do I love you? Why wouldn’t I love you?”

18. “Who did this to you?”

19. “I can totally kick their ass(es) if you want. Genuinely. I’m offering. Actually, I’m insisting! Just give me five minutes and I’ll-.”

“[name]?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and hug me.”

20. “I heard you were sick so I got you a tea and your favourite snacks. You don’t have to eat them yet. I figured you could have some when you’re feeling a little better.”

Pure Angst

1. “I feel like I’m drowning. Like no matter how hard I try to break the surface, I just get swallowed by another wave. Does that make sense?”

2. “I can’t keep watching you do this to yourself.”

“Then don’t.”

3. “I can’t do this anymore.”

4. “I loved you!”

“That was your first mistake! Your second was thinking I could ever love you!”

5. “You’re a liar.”

“Everyone’s a liar, sweetheart. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you’ll be.”

6. “So this is it? This is how it ends?”

7. “I thought I could love you. Turns out, I was wrong.”

8. “You can’t fix this.”

“Yes- yes I can-!”

“No, you can’t.”

9. “Please, just listen to me!”

“No! I’m done listening, [Name]!”

10. “Please don’t do this to me.”

11. “You still want them, don’t you?”

12. “I was never your first choice. I knew that going into this and I thought that I’d be okay with it but I’m not.”

13. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed me to be.”

“Me too.”

14. “Get out.”

“But I-!”

“I said get out, [Name]!”

15. “I can’t- I can’t do this without you!”

“You’ll manage. You always do, love.”

16. “I know about you and [Other Person]. You’re good at a lot of things, [Name], but lying is not one of them.”

17. “Fuck, that’s a lot of blood.”

18. “But I love you-!”

“You don’t love me. You never loved me!”

19. “Oh, come on! You’re the one who fucked this up and you’re crying? You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?”

20. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #viktor arcane #viktor x reader #jayce arcane #jayce x reader #viktor x you #jayce talis #jayce x you #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #vi arcane #vi x reader #mel arcane #mel x reader #silco x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve herrington #steve harrington #robin buckley #robin x reader #steve x reader #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #eddie x reader #eddie munson #eddie st4

[issytheamateurnerd]

Finally posting a Madeleine fanfic!

I'll be uploading it to my Ao3 account when I eventually get that set up, but for now, I'll be posting parts of my new fic here on Tumblr!

Disclaimer: I don't usually write from a first-person POV so, sorry if the writing is a little clunky😅

The Hitman's Daughter

Part One: Family Reunion

"Don't be long."

Tamara turned and walked away, no doubt saying something entitled to her bodyguards.

I really didn't know how my mother could stand her. If anything, it seemed she liked her to some degree. Which made no sense to me.

However, the two of us had more important matters to tend to, so I refrained from asking unnecessary questions. I had to focus.

Although it was a bit difficult, as the smell of the purple flower gardens that surrounded the extravagant wine factory and mansion, under the endless, blue-and-orange Argentina sky was quite distracting.

But my wandering mind finally focused once a familiar figure approached my mom and I.

“You got our message.” Said Mom, as he stood beside her, leaning his hand on the balcony railing.

“You’d never get caught on camera, especially if Madeleine was with you, not unless you wanted to be seen.” He replied.

It felt almost strange hearing his voice again, strange but…comforting at the same time.

“So, what’s the play?” He asked.

“You’re not the only one who’s been busy, 47.” Mom had that right.

“I’m this close to becoming the next Constant. I’ll be able to dismantle Providence from the inside.” Hearing this suddenly made our risky but genius plan feel so much more real. A knot appeared in my stomach.

“Only one man stands in my way; Don Yates.”

They continued to talk about Don Yates and Tamara Vidal, two people who, if removed, would set our plan into action.

Meanwhile, my mother knew exactly how to deal with the current Constant, Arthur Edwards. He wouldn't suspect a thing until it was too late.

While they spoke I began mapping the vineyard in my mind, seeing if I could recall things such as hiding places or areas to find tools and other materials.

But, as I suspected, my attention and thoughts were slowly drawn to 47. My father.

After everything that had happened with Providence, ICA, my Uncle Lucas….I hadn't seen my father in months. And the truth was, I’d missed him. I’d missed him a lot.

I suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to hug him, which was a bit strange because my father and I rarely hugged. Not that we weren't close, he just showed love in different ways.

However, my mother interrupted my thoughts,

“Whatever your plan is, we’ll help you in any way we can. Right, Madeleine?”

“Right.” I replied.

“You’re sure about this?” Dad asked.

“As sure as I’ll ever be.”

Mom then lovingly placed her hand over his and smiled.

It made me smile as well because my parents never showed affection towards each other in public. But then again, they were never with me in public for very long.

Yet, in that moment, I felt content. Because for the first time in over a year, our family was truly together. Even if it only lasted a few minutes, it was nice.

Memories from my childhood began to flash in my mind, and I recalled that it was always moments like these when I was the happiest. When it was just the three of us.

But the moment was cut short once my father turned away, signaling that it was time for our mission to start.

“Here, we got you an invitation.” I said, pulling a small, laminated paper invitation out of my dress pocket and handing to my dad.

My mom smiled again, “Just like old times. Come find me when it’s done.”

Dad thanked us and dissapeared into the crowd just as she said, “Good Luck, 47.”

Part Two:

Part Three:

Part Four:

Part Five:

Part Six:

Part Seven:

#hitman #47 x diana #agent 47 #diana burnwood #Madeleine Burnwood #hitman fanfiction #hitman fandom #The Farewell

[minisugakoobies]

Bet On It | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, enemies to lovers, non-Idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, kissing, drinking, fingering, getting frisky in a public bathroom, uh i'm gonna say light bondage, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), Yoongi is a blond menace, undercut warning

Word Count: 6.5K

Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: What's a little wager between enemies? How about if it's your body on the line?

A/N: Sooooo this was supposed to be a drabble, part of my Milestone Celebration. The prompt was “That was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.” I wrote 500 words... and then another 500... and then bloop! It became a one-shot. Originally I intended to post this on his birthday, but I'm impatient to get started on my next fic idea, so.... here you go!

Thanks to @thatlongspringnight and @namjinsmoonchile for brainstorming trivia team names.

Unbeta’d as usual. I would love to hear what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

“Okay, you motherfuckers, let’s do this. Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war!” With a vicious grin, you raise your pint in a toast to your teammates.

Blank stares greet you from around the table.

“She’s doing it again,” Jungkook says.

“I know. Just ignore her,” Seokjin replies.

“Oh, come on,” you sigh. “Help me out here! It’s been three weeks with no wins. You’re our leader, Seokjin–give us a rousing speech! Do something to rally the troops!”

Jungkook frowns. “Jin, you promised you’d talk to her about the military metaphors.”

“I did! And do you know what she said? ‘Roger that!’ Then she saluted!”

“I’m sitting right here, jerks. You’re not even pretending to whisper!” With a frustrated pout, you turn your attention to the busy room around you.

The Blue & Grey is packed once again as you sip on the pub’s latest brew (an apricot wheat, perfect for early summer) while you wait for your trivia match to begin. It’s your Friday night post-work routine, just as it’s been for the last five months, ever since your coworker/work spouse Seokjin invited you to join his team, the Real Jiniuses.

He’d heard through the office grapevine that you liked games. And were a little competitive. Clearly, his source understated the facts.

You love trivia. And you fucking live for the thrill of competiton.

So once you’d stopped mocking him for the team name, you’d agreed.

Seokjin leans forward, long black hair flopping over his forehead as he gently clasps his large hand over yours. He utters your name calmly, like a parent trying to reason with a bratty child. “Don’t you think you’re taking this a little too seriously?”

“Pfft, I think you’re not taking it seriously enough! Do you really want to lose to You Just Got Served? Again?”

You Just Got Served. Aka the Real Jiniuses’ rivals. Led by Hoseok from Legal aka Hardass Hobi as you and Seokjin refer to him. So named because of his ruthless attitude in the office.

Also he had a peach so firm you could bounce a paperclip off it. Not that you, the head of HR, had ever tried that. Ahem.

Normally, your teams trade the top spot in the match rankings, but they’ve been kicking your asses for the last few weeks. And you know it’s all thanks to one man.

Min Yoongi. Your nemesis.

He’s You Just Got Served’s ace. The man with all the answers. The man who annoys the fuck out of you. Because just as quickly as you marked him your biggest competition for ultimate trivia master, he sussed you out as the same.

A sneak glance at his team’s table confirms what you already knew. He’s watching you. Which only adds to your irritation. Sure, his whole team is technically your competition, but all your ire is reserved for the annoyingly sharp, vexingly handsome man studying you from across the room.

Make no mistake, he is handsome. As he gazes at you now with those cat-like eyes, newly bleached-blonde hair hanging messily over his brow, examining you from behind a pair of thick black frames, your pulse quickens slightly, despite your best efforts to appear calm and unperturbed.

“Do I want to lose to Hardass again and have to deal with him bringing it up in our Monday morning meeting? No. But it’s a minor annoyance in the grand scheme of things.” Seokjin pauses. “Do you really want a repeat of Trivial Pursuit night?”

“You always bring that up!” A few weeks into your time with the team, Seokjin had invited you to his apartment to play board games with some of the others. It had not gone particularly well. The ‘take no prisoners’ approach to trivia you’ve got makes for a bad scene when your opponents are your friends. “I said I was sorry!”

And you’d been permanently banned from board games night.

“You made Jungkook cry!”

You scoff, sipping your pint. “Oh, like that’s hard!”

“Hey!” Jungkook protests with a tiny sniffle. You gesture emphatically.

“Fine, point made,” Seokjin concedes, lovingly rubbing his boyfriend’s back while carefully avoiding his glare. ”Can we just have fun tonight? Please?”

Only because he’s your favorite coworker, and only because you don’t want to lose yet another friendship over a game, you give in. “Yeah, yeah, fun, whatever. I’ll get the next pitcher.”

The bar is horribly crowded as you approach. Apparently all the other players have decided to place their drink orders at the same exact time. Tapping your fingers on the smooth wooden surface, you’re patiently waiting to catch the bartender’s eye when a velvety voice rumbles in your ear.

“Back for more, huh?”

The devil himself. “Hi, Yoongi.”

He slips in beside you, propping himself up on an elbow on the bar. If you were friends, you’d tell him that you think his fresh undercut is striking, and paired with his newfound blondness, makes him look like a goddamn snack.

But you’re not, so you just ignore him and keep focused on flagging down the bartender.

“I never pegged you for a masochist,” Yoongi notes, tongue licking at the corner of his mouth. You try not to follow the movement with your eyes but it’s like breathing - happens completely involuntarily. “Yet here you are again, looking for more pain. Which I’m more than happy to provide.”

You finally place your pitcher order with the bartender before sizing up the man beside you. This is your other Friday night routine–trading insults with Yoongi. It’s how you prepare for the game, exchanging verbal jabs with the enemy. Though lately it’s been more innuendos than barbs, especially on his end, and these back-and-forths leave you feeling more heated than ready for battle.

Damned if you'll let him know that, though. Admitting that Yoongi has some sort of power over you feels like admitting defeat. And that’s the one thing you’ll never do.

“God, I can’t wait to make you choke on those words when we beat your ass tonight.”

His lips twitch mirthfully. “Oh, now you want to choke me? And there’s the sadism. Fascinating. I’m just learning all sorts of new things about you tonight.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groan, rolling your eyes. He’s so transparent with these attempts to get under your skin. It’d be hilarious, if only they didn’t work. “Maybe you should spend less time learning about me and more time studying up on your trivia? Then you won’t have to resort to these childish attempts at riling me up to feel superior.”

“Please. We both know I don’t need to do any of that. When it comes to trivia, I’m the king.”

“You’re the worst, your highness,” you proclaim, tone dripping with disdain.

He sidles closer, near enough that you breathe him in. Despite all his sharpness, his scent is so soft–lavender, with woodsy notes, mixed with the spice of the whisky cocktail he exhales as he peers at you through those dark glasses. Warm and inviting.

“Oh, I like that. You can call me that from now on, if you’d please.”

“Fuck off. Prepare to be dethroned, asshole.”

“Ha. You making a run for the crown? Good. Bring it. But know that I never back down from a challenge.”

Your retort is cut off by a voice behind you. “Yoongi, did you–oh.” It’s Hobi, looking devastatingly gorgeous as usual in a perfectly tailored suit. Since most of the players here come straight from your place of work, it's a rather well-dressed bunch of nerds. No complaints on your end. “I was gonna ask what’s taking you so long with my drink, but nevermind. I see now.”

“Just having a friendly little discussion here.”

“I’m sure.” Hobi nods coolly at you before he nudges Yoongi out of the way to speak to the bartender. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“Oh no, please do,” you quip. “I insist.”

Yoongi pouts, pretty lips puffing up before that cocky grin reappears again. It’s never far when he’s talking to you. “But we were having such an illuminating conversation.”

“You mispronounced ‘torturous.’”

His smile widens and you realize you’ve once again led him where he wants the conversation to go. It’s incredible. You never intend to set him up like that and yet there you go walking directly into his traps every time.

You sidestep.

“Well, it depends on–what? What are you looking at?” He slaps a hand to his slender neck suddenly, rubbing as though he’ll find something staining the skin there, based on the way you’re squinting as you stare at his throat.

“Sorry, I’m just marveling at the structural integrity of your neck.”

He lifts an eyebrow.

“It’s amazing that something so thin can support something so big.”

His eyes flash before he smirks, opening his mouth.

“If you’re about to make a big dick comment, I swear to God I’ll kick you straight off this team right now,” Hobi promises from over his shoulder, and Yoongi swiftly closes his mouth. “Come on, enough harassing the competition.” He tips his drink towards you. “Best of luck.”

Hobi leads Yoongi back to their table, and you know you shouldn’t ogle him openly, but Yoongi’s tight pants hug his ass so obscenely that you can’t stop yourself and oh, great, he caught you looking. Hastily, you grab your pitcher and bolt for your table, which is close enough to where Yoongi sits that you can hear him chuckling delightedly.

The quizmaster welcomes everyone to trivia night, and your thoughts are quickly replaced by the only thing that could drive Yoongi out of your head–the exhilaration of the game.

Two hours later, sitting at the bar, you’re trying to drown your sorrows with yet another pint. You Just Got Served’s winning streak continues.

“That was the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard.”

You frown as Yoongi takes a seat on the barstool next to you. “What sound?”

“The little noise you made when your team lost.” He sips his drink casually, eyes once again fixed on your face, observing your reaction closely.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you sniff, crossing your arms. “I didn't say anything.”

For once, you hadn’t. You’d been so sure that your team was going to pull out the win with the final question tonight that you were left completely speechless by the results. Unlike last week, when you’d let loose a flurry of loud expletives, much to Seokjin’s absolute embarrassment.

Okay, maybe tonight you’d made a little exclamation of protest. Just a tiny one. But there was no way Yoongi could’ve heard it.

“You absolutely did. Kinda sounded like a… a needy whine?” The smirk returns. “I’ve never heard anything so sweet.”

Your eyebrow quirks. “Is that because you’ve never made a woman whine before?” Yoongi scowls as you raise your pint to your smiling lips.

Hobi suddenly materializes at your side like a sexy but stern magician. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You should really consider joining our team,” he says, motioning to the bartender for a refill. “Aren’t you tired of losing?”

“Cross over to the Dark Side? Aren’t you supposed to entice me with saving my friends or offer me cookies or something?”

“Fuck, even for a nerd, you’re a nerd, you know?” Hobi sighs. “Which is why you should be with us. You’re absolutely wasted on the Jiniuses. Don’t you want to be on the winning team for once?”

“Save it, Hoseok.” With one hand, you shoo him away. “Go gloat elsewhere. It’s bad enough I can never shake this one,” you thumb at Yoongi.

“Yeah, weird how that always happens,” Hobi comments drolly, clapping Yoongi on the shoulder as he drifts off to bother Seokjin.

“Anyway…” Yoongi drawls as if he were never interrupted, “what will it take to get you to make that noise again? I miss it already.”

“God, what will it take to get you to shut up about it?”

“How about a little wager over next week?”

“Mmmm, not much of a gambler.” Contests, you like. Gambling, not so much. You don’t believe in luck. Just in yourself.

“Afraid you’ll lose? I would’ve thought you’d be used to that by now.”

He’s such an ass. “Fine, let’s say I take you up on this. What’s in it for me?”

“Name your prize.”

“Okay, how about… if my team wins, you pick up our tab for the night.”

He taps his glass thoughtfully. “Is that all?”

“What, that’s not enough?” He has no idea how much Seokjin alone can drink.

“I’m just saying. Make it worth your while.”

Tossing back the rest of your drink, you reconsider. What do you want? “All right. You pick up our tab, and you have to stop annoying me every week. Which means no more comments about stupid shit like imaginary sounds.”

He’s silent for a moment, still examining you as he mulls your words. You wonder if you’ve made a mistake with your choice of prize. Don’t you enjoy being the center of his attention every week? Crave his fiery words and longing looks? There’s a weird sense of panic growing in the pit of your stomach while you wait for his response.

“Okay,” he finally replies, setting his empty glass on the bar. He tilts towards you, and the loud din of the room around you dies away as he murmurs, “But when my team wins, I’m finally going to take you home and do everything I’ve ever wanted to do to you, over and over, until you can only make that sweet little sound.”

A jolt ripples through you. Shifting in your seat, squeezing your thighs together, you inhale deeply to control your breathing, so you give nothing away. “Are you kidding me? You really think I’d agree to that? To offering myself as a prize?”

“Yes.” Stated so matter-of-factly.

“And just why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because you want to come home with me. You’re just too proud to admit it. So I’ll make it easy for you. When I win, you’re mine for the night.” He lightly skims a long finger down your arm, and goosebumps rush to fill the space where his skin touched yours.

The satisfied look in his eyes as you struggle to compose yourself is the only thing anchoring you to reality, keeping you from grabbing him by the tie and dragging him straight into the bathroom.

You won’t let him win that easily.

“Well. That is simply not going to happen. I’ll take the bet, because I know it’s the only way to get you to stop bothering me, and because I know I’m going to win.” Gracefully, you climb off your stool, thankful that your legs haven’t turned to jelly after what he said. “You’re going down.”

He winks. “Well yeah, fingers crossed, love.”

Your scowl leaves him laughing as you stalk away.

“I’ve been dreaming about that noise all week long.” Yoongi’s voice drifts over the clatter around you. After another long week, it’s Friday again, so you’re at the bar, ordering provisions. And of course Yoongi’s here, too, wearing a grey three-piece suit, running his hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, looking delicious as always.

How annoying.

“You’ve been hallucinating an imaginary sound? You should probably get that checked out.” The bartender slides a cocktail towards you and you give them an appreciative nod before taking a sip.

“Really?”

“Really what?”

He grins, pink lips revealing a gummy smile. “Is that the best you’ve got tonight?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You’re not stressing about the match, are you? Wouldn’t want to win because you’re not on your game.”

“I’m always on.” Maybe it’s the exhaustion of a long week getting to you, but his snarky comments are even more irritating than usual tonight.

“Good. Because I want to know I’ve beaten the best.” The corner of his mouth lifts, that familiar crooked smile igniting a flame inside you.

You quickly tamp it down.

“Always so damn confident, aren’t you, Yoongi? Talking so big. Even if you win, do you really think you can make me make that sound again? Or any sounds, for that matter?”

He watches you over the rim of his glass as he takes a long dram. Something flutters against the bare skin of your thigh and you glance down to see his other hand brushing lightly along your leg.

“I assure you that I can and I will. But if you’d prefer a demonstration…?”

The hem of your skirt is pinched between his fingers. He rolls the fabric up slightly and you inhale sharply as his thumb strokes the smooth skin beneath. Tearing your gaze away from his hand, you find him studying your reaction. Waiting.

The quizmaster for the evening announces ten minutes until the match. You snap out of your trance and swat his hand away, hoping your bored expression is more convincing than it feels. “No need to embarrass yourself now. Save it for the quiz.”

Even though you know you shouldn’t, you glance back over your shoulder as you saunter away. Yoongi leans against the bar, tongue poking his cheek as he watches your hips sway and fuck, he’s caught you looking again. That spark inside you burns as he winks, and you turn away, in desperate need of your drink and a distraction.

Without a doubt, trivia night is always the highlight of your week. But tonight you’re too keyed up to truly enjoy it. Every round has you on edge, wondering if you’re one step closer to winning or losing the bet–and trying to figure out which outcome you’d prefer. All of this means a quieter, more subdued you than usual. Naturally, your friends notice.

“You feeling okay tonight?” Jungkook asks between the second and third rounds, nudging you gently with his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You flash the briefest of smiles. Jungkook jerks his head at his boyfriend, who shrugs and raises his eyebrows. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here looking right at you.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Seokjin exclaims.

“Please. Your face is louder than a fire alarm.”

“You say you’re fine, but you’re still on your first drink, and you haven’t made a single warfare reference all night,” Jungkook states. “So obviously you’re not.”

“It’s nothing! Just a little out of it after a rough week,” you lie, trying to summon some enthusiasm. “Don’t worry, I’m ready for the next round! Once more unto the breach!”

Jungkook wrinkles his nose adorably as Seokjin grants you a half-grin, but you know they’re not fully convinced.

Is this Yoongi’s evil plan? To psych you out with this bet and mess with your mind? Prevent you from playing your best? If it is, it’s really working, goddamn it.

Somehow, despite your inability to relax, the match flies by, a blur of questions and answers and shouts of victory and defeat. It comes down to a repeat of last week, the Real Jiniuses and You Just Got Served neck-and-neck to the very end, with everything hinging on the final question.

“Alright, the category tonight is ‘Literature of Future Past.’ If you don’t know this next question, don’t blame the stars. What famous phrase from classical literature was infamously uttered by General Chang, the Klingon villain from the 1991 film ‘Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country?’”

As your teammates whisper to one another, hazarding wild guesses, you glance at Yoongi’s table. Like your team, he and the others sit with heads bent towards one another. But you have a clear view of Yoongi’s face, all furrowed brows and pouting lips.

For once, he doesn’t look confident.

“Hey!” Seokjin’s voice brings you back to the group. “You haven’t said a single word in the last five minutes. Do you have a guess or what?”

You don’t need a guess. Calmly, you whisper the answer to Seokjin. Everyone else seems uncertain, but you’ve never been more sure in your life.

“And the answer is–“

You can’t hear what the quizmaster reveals because one of your teammates begins screeching in your ear. Your eyes are fixed on You Just Got Served’s table as the scores are revealed.

Yoongi’s expression says it all.

You won.

There’s a lot of cheering and even more drinking after the results are announced. You’re thrilled that your team has finally snapped their run of losses. But you hang back a bit, watching your friends carry on carousing without you.

The celebrations eventually die down and your teammates begin to drift away. Soon, you’re the only one left, nursing another drink at the bar. You know you should go home, but you feel antsy, like you’re not quite done with the night yet.

“Congratulations,” Yoongi mutters, shouldering his way next to you. He motions to the bartender that he’s ready to close out his tab, which is undoubtedly astonishingly high given how much your team imbibed after you told them it was on him.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that?” Mustering up a playful grin, you cup your ear.

His mouth sets in a flat line before he speaks again. “Congratulations. You won. I’ll stop bothering you.” His long fingers drum quietly on the bartop as he waits for his card. There are no quippy comments, no teasing smiles, nothing but silence and distance.

Well, you don’t care for this at all.

“How disappointing,” you remark, twirling the stir stick from your cocktail between your fingertips. “I guess you talk a big game, but just can’t deliver, huh?”

Yoongi turns to you with narrowed eyes. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“For your information, I didn't miss a single answer tonight, other than the last one! Any other night, that would’ve been enough to beat you,” he sulks. “That final round was bullshit. Who’s even watched that stupid old movie?”

Wow. Someone’s a sore loser.

“Except it wasn’t any other night, it was tonight, when you really needed to dig deep and secure the win, and you just… couldn’t.” You tip your head, giving him an appraising look. “And now you’re just giving up, huh? Throwing in the towel, because you lost one match.”

“Throwing in the - what are you talking about?” he hisses, attention fully focused on you now. You can feel the heat of his body where his arm presses against you, jostled closer by the other patrons vying for the bartender’s attention. “The bet’s over! You won. I lost.” His jaw twitches slightly with that last declaration.

Oh. You understand instantly. He’s mad at himself for losing.

It’d be so easy to reach out and grab his chin, look him in the eye, and tell him that you don’t care about any stupid bets. You want him to take you home. Make you his. But that requires you to surrender yourself to him, and that’s not the way you play.

“You know what I want?” The last dregs of your drink flow down your throat as you tip your head back to drain your glass. Yoongi watches closely, eyeing the graceful line of your neck with interest. “What I want is for you to show me that I beat the best tonight. Didn’t you say you never back down from a challenge? Then prove it.” He’s breathing hard as you smirk, twirling his black tie around your fingers. “Show me that you can deliver on that offer you made earlier. Make me whine, Yoongi, right here, right now, and I’m all yours.”

His eyes are darkened pools as he studies you. God, how you long to dive in. “Are you serious?”

"Mmmhmm. If you still want to take me home, you gotta make me want it. Show me what you can do.” Gently, you untwist his tie, smoothing the silky fabric, letting your fingertips skim against his chest as you gaze at him through lowered lashes.

“Fuck,” he whistles a low note. His tongue dances over his lower lip. “Come on.”

His hand grasps yours, pulling you off your seat. Most of the trivia crowd has cleared out by now. The quizmaster has been replaced by a deejay currently spinning something loud and fast. You wind your way through the crush of bodies on the dance floor as Yoongi leads you into the back hallway of the pub.

He pauses for a second at the door of one of the bathrooms. When no one answers his questioning knock, he quickly urges you inside and locks the door behind you.

In the flickering fluorescent lighting of the restroom, Yoongi removes his glasses, tucking them into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. His gaze slowly roams over your body, a nakedly hungry look on his face. Gone are the winks, the smirks, all those cocky little gestures he loves to tease you with. This is the expression of a man who wants to devour you whole, in no uncertain terms, and he’s dying for you to know it.

One of his hands cups your cheek while the other slides up your thigh, bunching your skirt as it goes. “If at any point you want me to stop, just say the word,” he instructs you. “This is only fun for me if you’re into it, too.”

“Okay.” Your breathing is a little shaky. The intensity of his gaze has you rattled. But you’ve already decided you want this, so you don’t plan on saying a word.

In fact, you don’t plan on making any noises at all. You’re not giving him an inch, or rather, a whine, unless he earns it from you.

With a tilt of his head, he pulls you into a kiss. A hint of whisky still clings to his lips, sweet and smoky, but it’s the bite underneath that has you leaning into him, seeking more, getting drunk on him. You curl your fingers into the lapel of his suit as he slides his hand around to your ass. He palms you through your panties, then lifts your leg to wrap around him as he grinds himself into your core.

He’s so hard against you already. Knowing that you’ve done this to him spurs you on, your lips falling open enough for him to lick into you. His hands find the zipper on your skirt and in an instant it’s crumpled around your feet.

“You taste so good,” he whispers, kissing a trail down your neck. “Do you taste like this everywhere?” You nearly moan his name, but bite your lip in time. Abruptly, he drops your leg and pulls away, and you teeter for a moment before catching yourself. In your head, you call him a few choice names, but you say nothing out loud.

His smirk reappears as he drops to his knees. “Better hold on to something.” He buries his face in your heat, kissing you through the sodden silk and lace he finds there. A keen bubbles up but you swallow it back down as his nose finds your clit and rubs against the sensitive nub. “You can start with me.” He grabs your left hand, placing it in his hair. Instantly, you card your fingers through his platinum locks. With your right hand, you grip the sink, needing something steady to keep you in place.

The man between your legs yanks your panties to the floor and dives in with no hesitation. His tongue licks a long stripe up your slit before he begins to swirl it around your clit and then his hands join the fray, fingers prying back your folds as he slips inside.

Your own tongue is speared between your teeth, to the point that you begin to fear you might chomp clean through. But if you let go, there’s no telling what sort of sounds will escape your lips, so you continue to hold it. Releasing his hair, you clutch at the sink with both hands.

Yoongi chooses that moment to replace his tongue with his index finger, and your mouth falls open as you rock your hips forward. How did he find that spot so quickly? He’s playing you like a musician plays an instrument, all deft fingers and graceful tongue, making your body sing.

“You like that, love? Hmm? Want another?” He adds a second finger.

Swiftly, you stuff the palm of your right hand into your mouth, gnawing to suppress any whimpers. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel yourself nearing your peak, continuing to rut your hips brazenly as you chase your high on his thrusting fingers. God, you’re going to cum if he keeps this up, but there’s no way you can possibly do that silently.

“Oh, look at you,” Yoongi groans happily, mouth lapping at the wetness clinging to your thighs. “Humping away, so needy. Are you wishing that was my cock inside you? Hmm?” He nips when you don’t reply. “I asked you a question, love.”

His fingers suddenly withdraw as his tongue stops.

Your eyes fly open. Releasing your palm, you glance down to find him resting on his heels, watching you with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“So that’s your game, huh?” he rasps, grabbing the hand that was just in your mouth. His thumb rubs over the teeth marks there. “Muffling yourself, so you won’t make any sound?”

You shrug, crossing your arms. “Maybe. Does it matter?”

“I think it does. Seems a bit like cheating to me.”

“It’s not cheating,” you petulantly claim, frustrated beyond belief. Can’t he just let it go and get back to proving his skill? You were so close. “It’s just… it’s like the final round. You know, it’s meant to be a challenge, not a walk in the park.” He doesn’t make any movements, continuing to observe you closely, and you pout. “Come on, I thought you didn’t back down from anything!”

Yoongi tips his head to the side as he considers your words. “I suppose you’re right.” He stands, loosening his tie. “You never really set any rules for this… challenge… of yours, so I can’t really say it’s not fair. But, you also didn’t specify what I could or couldn’t do, so....” He yanks the silky material from around his throat. “Turn around.”

He grips the tie tightly as you shoot him a curious look. “And what exactly do you think you’re going to do with that?”

He doesn’t answer, just takes a step forward and lightly grasps your chin. “Turn. Around.” The tone of his voice is commanding, but there’s a question in his eyes. A way out, if you want it.

You turn around.

“Clasp your hands together.” Silently, you obey, and he wraps the tie around your wrists, binding them together. “Too tight?” Testing his work, you find that you have a little give, but not enough to get loose. Once you shake your head, he spins you around to face him again.

“Let’s see how quiet you can be now,” he murmurs, lowering his face to your neck and sucking at a sensitive spot beneath your ear. You huff a breath through your nostrils, still determined to keep completely mum.

Yoongi’s hands run over your blouse before tugging it up, sliding it over your breasts. His lips glide down until they meet your bra. He mouths at your nipples through the dark lace and you arch into him, wishing your hands were free so you could remove all the fabric preventing his hot kisses from touching your bare skin. Having him so close is torture.

Which is obviously the point.

You’re shifting around, trying ardently to get him to slide your bra down without actually saying anything, when there’s a knock at the door.

You both freeze. Yoongi lifts his head.

“Maybe we should–”

“Do you want to–”

“Hello, is someone in there?” More knocks. “Come on, there’s a line!”

“Do you want to stop?” Yoongi asks.

“God no,” you answer immediately, without a trace of shame.

A full gummy smile crosses his face. Then he turns and bellows, “FUCK OFF!”

The knocking ceases.

“I guess I should move things along,” he hums, tracing his hand down your torso. “As much as I wish I could take my time right now, I can’t. But that’s okay. After this, we’ll have all night.”

Without warning, he pulls you flush against him and kisses you fiercely. Your cry of surprise is swallowed by his greedy mouth. With your hands bound, you can’t run your fingers through his hair or cling to his shoulders or touch him in any of the million ways you’re dying to right now. You can’t even hold yourself up, melting into his embrace. He’s completely in control.

So you surrender.

His kisses grow messy, more desperate, until you’re both gasping for breath. His hand finds its way between your legs, stroking and plunging, one finger, then two, before he’s on his knees again.

“Lift this for me,” he bids you, bending your left leg. “Just let it rest here.” You wobble a little as you try to balance your thigh on his shoulder, puffing a frustrated breath, but before you can keel over, his strong hands grip your waist. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, love. Just lean back.”

Your back tilts against the cold sink. Yoongi’s supporting most of your weight as his hand splays on your stomach, holding you in place so you’re angled just right, completely open to him, just as he desires.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs reverently. “Such a shame I can’t savor you right now. But I promise I will later.” And then his mouth is on you.

The rude interruption seems to have lit a fire under him, because as soon as he sets a relentless pace, he doesn’t stop. He keeps finding that spot inside you, lithe fingers brushing over it again and again, making your eyes roll back in ecstasy. As he tongues at your clit, treating the tiny bud like a drop of the sweetest nectar, you realize your end is approaching quickly again.

You try to keep quiet. You really do. But all your effort is completely useless against Yoongi’s talented hands and tongue. Once your mouth goes slack, it’s over.

You begin to wail.

“Yoongi, oh fuck!” The floodgates open and you gasp, you moan, you scream his name. “Jesus, fuck, oh my god!”

He’s laughing into you, and you struggle hard against the tie, fighting to slip a hand loose so you can get your fingers on him, grab his hair, touch him, but in addition to being a trivia master he’s also apparently a fucking knot expert, so you’re not getting free. With a frustrated whine, you drop your head.

Game over. He wins.

He replaces his mouth with his thumb as he watches you through heavily-lidded eyes. “There it is, love! There’s that beautiful sound I’ve been dreaming of. I knew I could get you there.”

All you can do is groan his name. “Yoongi, please!” Not even sure what you’re pleading for, just knowing that you want whatever he’s willing to give.

The fingers pumping in and out of you make the filthiest background noise as he babbles on, caught up in the rush of victory. “Fuck, love, everything you do is so fucking hot - the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you moan my name. You’re so fucking sexy. I can’t wait to have you tonight. You ready to get fucked by the king?”

“Yoongi.” He’s still the fucking worst and you hate how much you love it, clenching at his words. “Oh fuck, please don’t stop!”

He feels you tightening around him and growls. “Say it. Say I’m the king.”

Right now you’d say anything he told you to if it meant he’d keep going. “You’re the king! Ah, fuck, you’re the king!”

With another thrust of his hand, you come undone. The burning inferno inside you spreads, consuming you so completely that your right knee buckles and you pitch forward. Yoongi holds you up, one hand on your torso, the other gripping your left thigh, still lapping at your cunt until you can’t take any more.

Panting, you protest. “Too much, Yoongi, it’s too much.”

He stops, glancing up at you. A glossy sheen of sex is smeared all around his nose and mouth, and as you fight to catch your breath, he removes his hand from your core and sucks each finger clean, one by one.

“God, you’re so over-the-top,” you huff as he laughs. “Will you untie me now?”

He rises to his feet. “Say it one more time and I will.”

“Say what?”

“You know what.” He blinks languidly, a proud smile curling his lips. “Tell me I’m the king.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Just say it.”

He’s unbelievable. You try appealing to his baser instincts. “Please, Yoongi, I wanna touch you. Don’t you want me to touch you?” Bringing your knee up, you rub against the massive tent in his pants, smirking as he exhales forcefully.

Yet he doesn’t cave, running a thumb over your lips. “Come on. One more time. I wanna watch this pretty mouth say it.”

You want to kiss him and curse him all at once. Pleasing him wins out.

“You’re the king,” you sigh. “Now untie me and fuck off.”

You start to turn, but Yoongi stops you with his hands on your hips, and leans in for a kiss, slow and sure. Something must be seriously wrong with your knees because they’re seconds from giving out again. His fingers pick at the knotted tie, releasing your wrists. As soon as your arms are free, you loop them around his neck, never breaking the kiss for a second.

Until there’s another knock at the door.

“Hello? Look, whoever’s in there, can you please wrap it up?” the bartender hollers through the door. “Other people need the restroom, you know.”

“JUST A MINUTE!” you boom, giggling at Yoongi’s startled expression. “Sorry.” “I’m assuming my demonstration was satisfactory, given the many, many sweet sounds you made. I didn’t hear a single complaint, but I think I did hear you call me the king once or twice….” he trails off, grinning as you push him away and adjust your blouse, straightening the wrinkled fabric over your stomach.

“Oh, fuck all the way off, will you?” You reach for your panties but he swipes them up first and stuffs them into his pocket.

“What?” His tone is airy and innocent. “I earned these.”

No argument there.

Once you’re both looking respectable enough to leave the bathroom, he pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “I know what you said earlier, but you’re not under any obligation to–”

“Yoongi.” His voice falters as you place your hand on his chest, fingers curling around his tie. “Take me home.”

With a smirk, he opens the door.

© 2022-23 by sunshinerainbowsbts/minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.

#ksmutclub #ficscafe #btswritingcafe #btscreatorscorner #bangtanarmynet #btshoneyhive #min yoongi smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x reader #bts smut #possumswrite #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #min yoongi #fic: bet on it

[oliviajdjarin]

Leo Valdez: He Is In Love

Pairing: Leo Valdez x fem!reader

Summary: a few scenes from your life with Leo, inspired by “You Are In Love” by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: literal tooth rotting fluff and just Leo being in love with you. Kissing and intimacy as well, but that’s it :) This is also kind of a modern!Leo, but It’s not super apparent.

A/N: this song is one of my favorites of all time, and so I hope I did it justice! Thanks for any support, and I am so sorry about my chats and replies glitching. I think we have it figured out now, but if you comment/commented something on my posts I promise I saw it and added you to my tag lists!

Disclaimer: just one more thing, I know I have seen a fic like this somewhere, but once again I just can’t remember, so please feel free to have me credit you if you wrote something similar or know someone who did!!! Thanks @leahkenobi for being so understanding. I was also very inspired by @chasingpj ‘s canciones de mi corazón, which is one of my favorites fics ever, so total credit to them and their amazing work.

If you’d like to leave a like, reblog, or comment, that would be much appreciated <3

Leo Masterlist

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Parties were really not your scene.

It seemed lame, given the age you were, to not like parties. Virtually everyone around you went to them almost every weekend, and sometimes even during the week.

You just didn’t understand the appeal.

Meeting new people, deafening music, gross drinks, sweaty strangers, and worst of all: small talk.

Who could possibly enjoy that?

The good news is, there was at least someone who could relate to your feelings: your best friend, Leo Valdez.

With his ADHD, parties tended to exhaust him pretty quickly, and despite how he presents himself, he is quite introverted on the inside. He agreed with you about small talk, saying it was “worse than death.” You always told him he was being too dramatic, but he always shot back with “have you died before?”

There was no beating that. “Touché,” you would respond, and his bright eyes would twinkle with victory.

It felt nice, really nice, to have someone actually understand your social anxieties, rather than just deal with them.

Later on in your story, you would realize that it was one of the things you loved the most about him.

“I’m serious Y/N,” he said over the car stereo. “Just tell me when you’re done and we’ll go.”

He had offered to drive you to this specific house party, and you gladly accepted. Driving at night tended to make you extra paranoid, and spending time with Leo was always a plus.

“Thank you Leo,” you replied. “But you really don’t have to.”

“I want to, Y/N,” he said, and turned his head to look at your face as he said it.

It had always been so easy to get lost in his features. His darker skin tone, his sharp jawline, and his deep brown eyes. They always seemed to mesmerize you, no matter how long you knew Leo.

You smiled at him. “Eyes on the road Valdez.”

“Right,” he said, and looked away with the faintest blush. It was so faint that, now looking back, you swear you imagined it.

“Yes ma’am,” he laughed, and you laughed back.

The rest of the ride was normal. You played your favorite music, which just so happened to be Leo’s favorite as well, and the both of you sang along as you drove. It helped you pretend that you weren’t about to walk into your least favorite environment.

It always seemed natural between the two of you. Awkward moments didn’t exist, and they never would.

Leo parked, and came around to open the passenger door for you.

“What a gentleman,” you said to him.

He smiled at you, only barely showing his teeth.

“My mom would be very proud,” he said. “She made sure to teach me how to treat a woman.”

You smiled at him, nice and wide, and said, “I know.”

Of course you knew. You knew it all.

Leo led you into the party, and stayed by your side for as much of the night as he could, acting as a sense of security for you. He always jumped in when awkward silence started to drift in to your conversations, and he made sure to laugh at every joke or sarcastic comment you made.

For as much as he claimed he loathed small talk, he was pretty damn good at it.

You weren’t sure when, but at some point Leo and you got separated. It may have been when you went to the bathroom, or maybe he went to grab you some water and got pulled into another conversation.

It doesn’t matter. What matters is when you finally met his eyes across the room, and the look he gave you.

It was incredibly hard to see even a few feet in front of you in the dark room, and the look was so quick that there was no way you could have caught it if you blinked. It had to have been some form of magic, or really good luck, that you were able to see the emotion in his eyes as he looked at you.

He raised his eyebrows and lowered his chin, and his eyes softened significantly. A romance book would call them “puppy dog eyes,” but the emotions he was conveying were too strong to be considered anything other than piercing.

And they were all just for you.

You ok? Want me to come over there? Do you want to just dip? We can drive home right now if you want. This dude I’m talking to is incredibly boring. Told you small talk was worse than death.

You couldn’t explain it. You swear you heard his voice speaking those exact words in your head when his eyes met yours, but he never opened his mouth once. It was all in his face.

Do I understand him that well? you thought to yourself.

It caught you off guard enough for him to tilt his head in confusion.

Y/N?

You panicked, and nodded. Your own eyebrows raised just a bit, and you took a very visible gulp. You hoped and prayed that he understood just how badly you wanted to get out of there.

And he did.

You would replay that moment over and over in your head during the walk back to the car, trying to make any sort of sense to it, but there was no sense to be made.

Sometimes, moments were just meant to happen, and the start of your fall for Leo was only beginning.

Small talk, he drives

Coffee at midnight

The light reflects

The chain on your neck

He says, "Look up"

And your shoulders brush

No proof, one touch

But you felt enough

The drive away from the party was surprisingly quiet. Quiet for you and Leo anyway. He didn’t even bother to turn on the stereo.

You just kept getting more and more lost in your thoughts about how easy understanding Leo was, not only in his facial expressions, but even so small as his tone of voice.

Had it always been this way? If not, when did we just…click? How would that even happen over time? What makes two people so close? Either way, we are just friends, and friends are perfectly capable of feeling that way. And I don’t want us to be more than that…

…right?

You were fooling yourself, and you were completely confused.

Leo, on the other hand, could not have been happier. He was practically glowing.

“So,” he said out of nowhere. “I have a proposition.”

You snapped out of your spiral, and looked to Leo with a smile.

Yet again, he knew exactly what to say to pull you out.

“And what is that?” you teased.

“Celebratory coffees,” he said, “for making it through that horrendous experience.”

“Leo,” you said with a laugh. “It’s midnight!”

“So?” he asked. “We both love coffee, and neither of us are even energized by caffeine anyways. It’s always had an opposite effect on us.”

That was a good point.

“And, yet another pro, Starbucks probably won’t be too busy,” he said, and smiled at you.

“You deserve it Y/N,” he said softly, puppy eyes returning, and you smiled at your feet. Heat crept up your neck.

“Alright,” you obliged. “Celebratory coffee it is.”

He laughed nice and loud, his eyes glittering once again, and turned up a different street.

He was right. Starbucks was, for once, not very busy.

And you did deserve to treat yourself.

He pulled through the drive-through and got you your favorite drink, which he had memorized, and got a hot caramel macchiato for himself. He always talked about how the flavoring of it made him think of desserts his mom used to make, and how she would drink coffee every morning. She only gave him a sip a few times, and he would stick his tongue out in disgust of the flavor without fail.

You smiled and nodded every time he told the story, and you enjoyed how his eyes would crinkle and his dimples would show.

How did you not realize you loved him?

When you were finally on your way back home, you took some time to look out the window at all the passing trees and homes as you sipped your coffee. The streets that Leo had taken were some of your favorite in the city. You could count on two hands how many fields you passed, and they all allowed the night sky above you to be crystal clear. You could see so many stars, and their brightness started reflecting off of everything in the car.

“I think your necklace is trying to communicate with its old friends,” Leo said, and you turned to him in confusion.

He pointed down to your shirt, and you noticed that the necklace you had been wearing was laying on the outside of your shirt. You normally tucked it in, enjoying the feeling of the handiwork against your skin, but it must have popped out, making the starlight reflect on it as well.

Had it been like that the whole night?

The golden tinted necklace had three stars in a row, and it curved slightly to intensify its pattern. You adored that necklace, refusing to take it off since the moment you received it.

Leo gave that necklace to you, and he always looked at you a little differently when he saw it on you.

“Yeah,” you responded, smiling down at the trinket and rubbing it in between your fingers. “I won’t let it leave, though.”

You smiled up at him, and he smiled back, before turning back to pay attention to the road.

“Why don’t we just…pull over?” he asked. “I can see you watching the stars, and we can’t just drive past these perfect views?”

You shook your head at him, scoffing slightly at his playfulness. The night was only getting longer, but there was still something pulling at you to take his offer. You had been enjoying yourself so far, more so than you had in the past, and Leo was right; these views were perfect.

“Alright,” you replied. “Only for a few minutes.” You finish the statement with a yawn.

“That’s the spirit,” he responded, poking fun at your sleepy face and groggily voice. You rolled your eyes and chuckled.

He pulled the car over, and leaned back in his chair. Lucky for the both of you, the vehicle had a pretty large sun-roof. This allowed the both of you to stare straight up into the night sky, without any bugs or cool breezes.

It was so beautiful.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, just enjoying how peaceful the world was around you. There was no loud music, strobing lights, or a need to escape.

That was where you wanted to be. Right there. With him.

His deep, relaxed breaths made you even happier. You didn’t like when he was stressed or uptight, especially when he was working, and moments like these made all the difference.

You were just about to pry your eyes from the stars to look at his own beauty, before he gasped loudly out of no where.

“Y/N! Look up!” he said loudly, and your body went into panic mode.

“What! What is it?,” you asked him, and your eyes shot to the sky, searching through the sun-roof for any sort of threat or monster.

“See those three stars?” he asked, and pointed to his right. You followed his fingers, and still felt your heart beating quickly in your chest.

“Yes. Yes I see them.”

“Those are the ones that are on your necklace,” he said excitedly, and you turned your head to look at him in surprise.

“They’re my favorite,” he said, and his eyes locked with yours. Your heart-rate lowered, free from the anxiety of a threat, but it quickened back up and warmed your blood at Leo’s kind words.

He made a necklace of his favorite stars, for you. You loved that necklace more and more each day, but now knowing the significance of it…

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said suddenly, and you wrinkled your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” you asked quietly, and Leo loved your voice like that.

“You look too beautiful when you look happy,” he said, and you saw his eyes widen when the final word escaped his mouth.

He called me…beautiful. Not pretty, not hot, beautiful.

It was then that you realized that both yours and Leo’s shoulders had been touching ever since he pointed out the three stars, and a shot of electricity zoomed throughout your body all the way up to your brain when you realized how close he was to you.

You were staring into his eyes, seeing how they too held such beauty underneath the stars, and he even smelled good. It was a deep vanilla with just a hint of cologne, and you knew it was a mix of his conditioner and body spray. It was a perfect mix. Not too much, but not too little. It was just…Leo.

You kept looking at him, wanting to touch his hair and carve his cheek with your fingers, tracing every mole and curve. You wanted him closer to you, and you wanted his scent to mix with your own so it would never leave you.

You wanted to…you wanted to kiss him.

I want to kiss him, you thought. I want to kiss my best friend, and I want him to kiss me back. I want to sit in this car under these perfect stars and kiss and never stop.

Gods.

“Y/N,” Leo whispered, ever so slightly moving his head towards yours, making his scent and his presence and soft hair his stupid, perfect lips even more prevalent.

But your anxiety once again found a reason to muck everything up.

“I’m tired Leo,” you said kindly, and leaned back into your seat.

“Let’s go home.”

Leo stayed leaning forward, shock and maybe a hint of disappointment still obvious on his features, before leaning back into his own seat and clearing his throat.

“Right,” he said, and placed his hands on the wheel.

“Home.”

You can hear it in the silence, silence, you

You can feel it on the way home, way home, you

You can see it with the lights out, lights out

You are in love, true love

You are in love

Leo continued the drive in silence, and you continued to roll your necklace around your fingertips, deep in thought.

You felt like waking up from a fog, and the heaviness of what Leo had been doing for you the entire night was starting to weigh on your shoulders. The silence surrounding you was only making it worse.

How could you have been so blind? Leo had taken you all the way out to this party, and he was completely open to leaving even in the first few minutes. He had looked at you with so much acceptance throughout the entire evening, and never judged you. Not once. He was a perfect gentleman, but still treated you as a person. As a woman.

He bought you coffee, your favorite kind, and shared with you personal details about his mom and his childhood that not even his own friends knew about. He brought you, only you, out to see his favorite stars in the pitch black, and even made you a necklace out of them.

He was revealing more and more to you as your relationship continued, and you felt blind and stupid. Waves and waves of realization continued to flow over you throughout the entire way home, and even a glance at Leo’s face made your cheeks heat up.

You looked down and smiled at your necklace, and Leo chuckled beside you.

“What is that smile for?” he asked with a laugh.

“Nothing,” you said. “Nothing at all.”

Leo finally pulled up into your driveway, and walked you up to your doorstep.

“Thank you Leo,” you said. “For everything.”

“Sure thing my lady,” he said with a laugh “Anything for you.”

He smiled at you, his eyes glowing slightly in the moonlight, and took a deep breath.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, or whenever you feel like. I’ll be there.”

He looked you up and down and turned to walk away, sticking his hands in his pockets, and it was one of those moments that happened in slow-motion. Some instinct inside of you knew that it was now or never, and you weren’t going to let a boy like that just walk away from you. Not after everything that you knew now.

“Wait,” you said, and he turned around on his heel to face you again.

He didn’t even get a chance to ask you what was up. You jogged down your cement stairs, pulled him in by his collar, and pressed your lips to his. A breath escaped his nose in shock, and his eyes widened at the feeling, but they slowly fluttered shut, and he returned the pressure.

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and delicately placed his hands on your face, pulling you in closer as gently as he could. The feeling of your skin against his hands was addicting, and he could have sworn smoke was coming out of his ears.

You were kissing him. He was kissing you.

You were kissing him.

A small whine escaped both of your lips when you forced yourself to pull away, and the street lights framed both of your faces beautifully. You pecked his nose, then pecked both of his burning hot cheeks, unable to keep your lips away from him.

His eyes looked drunk on the feeling of you, and you giggled a bit before finally speaking.

“Was that ok?”

He looked at you like you were crazy.

“Uh…yes!” he said. “Gods I didn’t want to stop.”

You looked down in a blush, and he used his pointer finger to move your chin back up.

“I was just too much of a wimp to try it earlier,” he said, and pecked your lips for a few more seconds. Even the faintest touch from him made your eyes roll back into your head.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whispered into his lips. “And the day after that, and the day after that-”

“Yes!” he said, and fist bumped the air.

“I’ll see ya then!” he said, and sprinted back to his car, skipping and jumping as he did so.

You laughed so hard tears came to your eyes.

Happy tears.

Morning, his place

Burnt toast, Sunday

You keep his shirt

He keeps his word

And for once, you let go

Of your fears and your ghosts

This was real. You and Leo were actually dating. It wasn’t some fantasy, or something you longed for every time you saw him.

It was real.

And to say you two were attached at the hip would have been an understatement. It got so bad that you ended up having what Leo called “sleepovers” at each other’s houses almost every night, no matter if it was a weekend or a weeknight, and all of your friends invited you places together. They knew that one way or another, you would show up together anyways.

You were so…happy.

Your favorite nights to have sleepovers were the weekends though. You two were able to stay up as late as you wanted, talking about everything and anything until the early hours of the morning, and you didn’t even wake up until 11 or 12. Leo always let you borrow his shirts, and he always insisted on having his arms around you in some way or another as you fell asleep.

“Is it a crime to want to touch my girlfriend in my own bed?” he would ask every time you teased him, and you would laugh and kiss him passionately.

One of your favorite parts though, was that he vowed to make you breakfast every time you stayed. He would always make your favorite toast and eggs, along with warm coffee and usually some sort of fruit as a side.

You would wake up in his incredibly comfortable bed with his “Cabin 9 Hephaestus” shirt on, and you would feel around for his body to cuddle into him. You would smell the warm toast and hear the sizzling eggs, and a huge smile would come to your face every time.

You would yawn and stretch your muscles, and make your way down into his kitchen. His naked torso would be revealed in all its glory, and he would be facing away from you, cooking away. His back was beautifully toned, and his darker skin tone was just beautiful.

You didn’t know it was possible to love someone this much.

“Morning,” you said on one specific Sunday, and he turned around with his bright smile.

“Morning amor,” he said. “I made your favorites.”

“Of course you did,” you said, and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his neck.

“What can i say, I keep my word don’t I?”

“Yes Leo,” you said and squished your cheek into his arm. “You always do.”

He turned around and kissed the top of your head, before shooing you back to the dining room table.

“Go on and sit down,” he laughed. “I know you’re hungry.”

You laughed and sat, letting him place your numerous plates and coffee cup in front of you.

“Gods this smells good,” you said, and he pecked your cheek before sitting down.

“Bon Appetite,” he said, and you began to eat your breakfast.

“You ate right?” you asked him before taking a sip of your drink.

“I did. Just over twenty minutes ago.”

“Good,” you responded, and continued eating.

Leo rested his head on his hand and took in the sight of you. A light smile was plastered on your face every time he cooked you something, and seeing you in his shirt warmed him from the inside out. He could stare at you for hours, and he definitely did the night before.

“Is there something on my face?” you asked him.

“No, no,” he said and took your free hand in his. “I just love you.”

“I love you too,” you responded instantly, and he kissed the top of your hand.

“So,” he asked you after a few more moments. “Any uh…any trouble sleeping?”

You knew exactly what he was asking. He was asking about the frequent nightmares you would get from your time as a demigod at Camp Half Blood. They caused your whole body to shake and convulse, and sometimes even scream. Leo would get very similar ones.

But luckily… those nightmares became few and far between ever since you had Leo beside you.

“No,” you responded. “None.”

“Me neither,” he said, and that mutual understanding that started months ago at the house party passed between you two once more. You both knew it was because of the other that the nightmares began to fade away, and even if they did make a rare appearance, the both of you were there for each other through every moment.

Always.

Your fears and ghosts that haunted you at night had finally disappeared.

One night he wakes

Strange look on his face

Pauses, then says

You're my best friend

And you knew what it was

He is in love

During one specific sleepover, the conversation of what you wanted for your individual futures was discussed more so than it had been in the past. Your hopes and dreams began pouring out of you, and Leo listened to you as intently as always.

Career plans, future apartments, and dogs were the main contenders.

“I just…” you began after a while. “I just love cities. I love the hustle and bustle, and I love looking out the window and seeing all the people. Every one of them has individual lives and individual destinations, and even individual worries! It makes me feel so…small. Not in a bad way, but it just makes me think of the huge puzzle that everyone in the world makes up, and how I’m just one small piece of it. It really puts things in perspective, and it makes me realize what is actually important to me in my life.”

You look back at Leo, and see a very unique look on his face. It wasn’t pain or discomfort, but his eyes had furrowed, and his jaw was tense. It looked as if he was holding back a cry.

“Leo?” you asked, and concern coated your voice. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

He took a deep breath, and a faint smile appeared on his mouth.

“I…” he began, emotion prevalent in his voice. “I can’t wait for you. I can’t want to watch you.”

Your heart quickened, and you found it increasingly difficult to get a whole breath of air into your lungs.

“You mean…you mean you’d come with me? You want that too?”

“Y/N,” he said and held your hands to his face. “I’d follow you anywhere. You’re my best friend.”

You closed your eyes, letting the tears escape, and you felt him tap his finger on the top of your right hand three times.

I. Love. You.

“Oh Leo,” you said, and the both of you were crying now. “I love you too.”

You pulled him into a proper kiss, and you refused to let his lips leave yours for several minutes. You ran your hands over each other’s bodies, trying to get the other as close as possible. Your bodies fell into their natural rhythms, and you felt the love and sincerity from him in every touch of his skin against yours.

It wasn’t about huge love confessions anymore, or huge shows to prove just how much you cared about the other.

All you needed was Leo’s small touch and kind words, and you knew he was in love.

And so it goes

You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round

And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown

And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words

Those dreams of moving to a city? They actually came true. And Leo followed you every step of the way, through every trial, and every happy moment. He held you when you cried out of frustration, but he was also there through every scream of joy.

He was there to carry you through all of it, and you carried him as well.

Thank the gods.

The only downside of your life was that you and Leo were forced to work on opposite sides of the city. That meant that dropping off a coffee for him every morning or meeting up for lunch was near impossible. Your friends would talk about meeting up with their partners, and your heart always sank a bit whenever they mentioned it. You wanted nothing more than to just eat with Leo for a few extra minutes every day, and it made you jealous that other people got to spend more time with him than you could.

You and Leo were having a nice conversation on the couch one day about your work schedules when you confronted him with these feelings. You said that you missed him throughout the day, and it made you sad that there was no way to see each other due to your different careers.

“You know,” he began, “I feel the same way.”

You smiled at him sadly, and looked at your feet to try and think of some sort of solution.

“I miss you so much,” he said. “I miss you so much that I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”

He said that with a laugh, but you were caught a bit off guard with the word “secret.”

“What do you mean?” you asked with a laugh, and he combed some hair away from your face.

“Remember when we spent the night together for the first time?”

“Yeah,” you said, and the sweet memories of that night forced a smile onto your face. “That feels like yesterday.”

“We took a selfie right before we fell asleep,” he said. “You were laying on my chest, all tucked in and warm, and I had my arm wrapped around you.”

You nodded at him, silently asking him to continue.

“Well, I printed out that picture after the first week of my job,” he said. “And I’ve kept that picture framed in my office ever since.”

You looked into his eyes, and you felt tears cloud your own vision. You realized in that moment why poets and authors spend so many pages and write so many stanzas trying to describe how love feels. You understood why so many gods had gone to war with one another, even against their own brothers, in the name of love.

Because this…this feeling…

…it was absolutely indescribable.

You are in love, true love

You are in love

Taglist: (if you’d like to be added, please just let me know! I’d be happy to add you :) ).

@leahkenobi @spacemochi-x @acciocriativity @analyzedtheft @lisedanie @fictionalcomforts

#leo valdez fanfic #leo #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez smut #leo valdez one shot #leo valdez fanart #leo valdez fanfiction #leo valdez fan art #leo valdez #leo valdez x you #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #hoo x reader #hoo imagines #hoo #toa x reader #toa spoilers #toa

[jungkxook]

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

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[jaehyunfirstlove]

You decide you’re ready to have a baby. The catch? You’re not seeing anyone at the moment. Enter your best friend, Jeong Jaehyun. Will he be the answer to your dilemma?

Pairing: best friend!Jaehyun x f.reader

Genre: best friends to fwb to lovers, fluff, angst, smut (18+ only)

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy and childbirth, sperm donors, IVF (in vitro fertilization), fertility drugs, mood swings, fingering, unprotected sex, cum play, nipple play, breeding kink, oral sex (f.receiving), dirty talk, pregnant sex, rough sex

Word count: 10.6k

Taglist: @jaehyunnie77​ @mrg-jjh​ @keeach​ (send me a message if you want to be tagged in future fics)

A/N: this was only meant to be a short fic but it morphed into this monstrosity. I tried to tag for everything but if I missed anything please let me know. Inspired by the fact that Jaehyun wanted to be a teen dad (but they are not teens in this story, just thought I’d make that clear :) Also please excuse my unimaginative name for the baby, I’m terrible at coming up with names lol

Disclaimer: I am not a medical professional so please excuse any inconsistencies.

“So what have you got planned for today?” your best friend, Jaehyun, asked you as he took a sip of his coffee, shielding his eyes from the sun’s rays coming through the window of the cafe.

It was your weekly Saturday brunch, at which Jaehyun would show up, nine times out of ten, hungover, wearing dark sunglasses, a baseball cap, a black t-shirt and sweats. There was never a deviation from this outfit, even on the times when he came not hungover.

“Oh not much, just an appointment at the fertility clinic this afternoon.”

Jaehyun paused, as you took a sip of your latte. You couldn’t see the look in his eyes through the sunglasses but his fork had stopped midway to his mouth. It hovered in the air, scrambled eggs sliding off of it and plopping onto the plate below.

“The where?” he asked, tipping his head to look at you above the top of his sunglasses.

“Fertility clinic. Looking into getting a sperm donor.”

The matter-of-fact way you were saying everything seemed to shock him, his fork still not moving towards his mouth or back onto the plate.

“Excuse me, a sperm donor?”

You put your coffee cup down, and sighed. “I don’t know why you’re so shocked, I told you before I wanted to have a baby.”

“I thought you were joking!”

“Well I wasn’t!” you don’t know why you were being so indignant, maybe because all you’d heard from everyone around you, from your parents to your doctor to the lady that sold you pretzels from a street cart, was negative. You shouldn’t have a baby without a partner, was the main point of contention, but how was that going to happen if you weren’t seeing anyone, and hadn’t had a serious relationship in almost a year.

“But a sperm donor, Y/N?” he asked, after mulling over what you just said.

“Yeah? What’s wrong with it?” you countered. You were so sick of everyone around you criticizing your plan.

“I don’t know, what if he’s like, a serial killer or something?”

“They do psychiatric assessments on everyone who donates.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an undiagnosed illness-”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Jaehyun!” you’d had it, letting out an exasperated huff, “Do you have a better idea? Do you want to be my sperm donor?”

You weren’t at all serious, you were just mainly upset and unfortunately, taking it out on him, but he actually sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised, as if he were contemplating it.

“Anyway, forget it. I don’t need your approval. I just hoped that you’d support me, of all people.” You couldn’t help but pout. He was your best friend and he’d stuck with you when no one else had. You may have said you didn’t need his approval but deep down you wanted him to be on your side.

He leaned forward, took his sunglasses off and looked you in the eye. “Of course I support you,” he said sincerely. “If this is what you want, then I’m with you one hundred percent of the way.”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter, and just as you took a sip of your latte he said the one thing that would complicate your life forever.

“But I get to be that sperm donor.”

You spluttered, almost choking on your latte. “I wasn’t being at all serious, Jaehyun,” you chuckled nervously, but one look at his face and you could see he was being completely serious.

“I just don’t like the idea of some stranger being the father of your child,” he said quietly, looking down at his plate of food while he said it, “might as well be me, right?” He looked up at you hopefully.

You didn’t know what to say. This was your best friend, the one you’d grown up with, the one you’d catch tadpoles with, the one you’d drag to the playground with you, the one you told all your innermost secrets to. The one who knew you best. Didn’t it make sense then, that he would be the one to share this with you, in the end? You looked at his face; open, sincere, beautiful. You knew he was attractive, with the trail of broken hearts he’d leave in his wake, but you hadn’t really looked at him in that way before. Suddenly he was a new person to you, and now you didn’t know how to feel.

“Jaehyun, I-” you rubbed your hands together nervously, still unsure of what to say, “it’s a big thing, you know? This will change the rest of your life.”

He nodded, but there was no trace of hesitation in his actions. In fact, he looked as sure as anything. “Yeah that’s a given. But I’ve thought about it and I’m ready.”

“Jaehyun, you’ve literally thought about it for, like, the few minutes we’ve been sitting here.”

He smiled, “Actually I’ve thought about it for a long time.”

“About being a sperm donor?”

He laughed. “No, not specifically a sperm donor. But it’s a start,” he shrugged. “So what do I have to do?”

---

Jaehyun accompanied you to the appointment at the fertility clinic, where they outlined the plan and what was required of the two of you. It didn’t sound too bad, but you did find that having Jaehyun there to support you was really helpful. Every time the doctor explained something that made you nervous you would look over at him and he would smile confidently at you, sometimes squeezing your hand if you looked particularly concerned.

It was the fertility drugs they gave you, that threw your world into chaos. They had warned you of the side effects but you didn’t think it would be this bad. Your mood swung back and forth like a pendulum, one moment you were happy, the next you were crying into your cereal. You were irritable more than you had ever been in your life, and constantly snapped at every little thing. Not to mention that your breasts were sore and you had nausea, making you feel like you were pregnant already. You felt bad for Jaehyun when he was around for your mood swings and irritable moments, but he handled it much better than you thought he would. He’d give you your space when you needed it, but also sit by your side when you didn’t want to be alone. You found yourself thinking about how he would be as a father, but then you would remember that he was just the sperm donor.

One day, when he was sitting beside you on the couch, rubbing your back after you’d cried over your coffee order being wrong, you ended up asking him how much he wanted to be involved.

“We didn’t talk about the ‘after’,” you said, still sniffling. He stopped rubbing your back and looked at you.

“What do you want the ‘after’ to look like?” He asked, his tone level and gentle.

You had visions of Jaehyun rocking the baby to sleep, of Jaehyun seeing the baby walk for the first time, of Jaehyun teaching your child how to ride a bike, piano lessons, soccer games, first day of school. The perfect family. Except he wasn’t your husband, he wasn’t even your boyfriend. You didn’t know what to ask of him.

“I don’t know,” you whispered. He went back to rubbing your back.

“I’ll be as involved as you want me to be,” he said softly, “my only request is that I get to be a part of their life.”

That sounded fair, you thought. This was certainly going to be more complicated than getting a stranger as a sperm donor.

---

You went through several cycles of IVF, but none had been successful and you were losing hope. Not to mention the fertility drugs were really taking a toll on you, and the doctor had recommended taking a break. You were devastated, seeing it as the end of your dream, no matter how much the doctor reassured you that it wasn’t.

“There has to be another solution,” you pleaded at one appointment. Jaehyun hadn’t accompanied you and you felt yourself falling apart without his presence.

“Well, of course there’s the surefire way,” the doctor shrugged.

“What’s that? I’ll do anything!” you were hopeful once again at the doctor’s words.

“Regular sexual intercourse.”

Of course, you thought bitterly. You couldn’t help but think this was society punishing you for doing this without a husband. Undeterred, you resolved to discuss it with Jaehyun.

---

The look on Jaehyun’s face when you broached the subject was one you had never seen on him before. It was a mixture of shock, terror, resignation, and… something else, almost like acceptance, as if this were the natural course of things.

You resolved not to make it weird, it was just sex after all, and you would get a baby out of it, and that was the most important thing. However, your palms still got sweaty at the thought of it, your heart racing imagining him naked. You’d gone swimming with him plenty of times, went on beach outings often, and you realized you’d always avert your eyes from his bare chest. You figured you were just doing it to be polite, but you had no trouble looking at other men’s chests (you were only human, after all). You shook your head of your thoughts, while waiting patiently for him to agree or disagree to your request.

“I know it’s weird,” you began, when he still hadn’t said anything, “but I promise it won’t change anything in our relationship.” You needed him to agree, and at this point you would say anything to convince him. He looked at you thoughtfully, before he nodded.

“Okay, I’m in.”

---

You’d been keeping track of your cycle and had the days you were ovulating marked on your calendar, which you had shared with Jaehyun. It was agreed that he would come to your place after work, where you would have sex in the hopes of making a baby.

The first night you were nervous, pacing your room as you waited for him to come over. When the doorbell rang you literally jumped out of your skin. When you opened the door you were relieved to see that he was nervous too, although he tried his best to hide it. He joked around with you, trying to keep the mood light, and you had to admit you appreciated it. But when you got to the bedroom, you both went quiet. Jaehyun stood at one end of the room and you stood at the other, the bed looming between you.

“Do you want me to turn around while you get undressed?” he asked awkwardly, and you realized you hadn’t thought through the details.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you replied, and when he turned around you hastily undressed and jumped under the covers. “Done,” you advised, and he turned around. He didn’t make a move though, just looking at you pointedly, until you realized and turned your head away. Once he was done undressing you felt him lift the covers and get into the bed with you, and you couldn’t stop your heart from hammering in your chest.

“Y/N,” he said softly, because you still hadn’t turned back to him. “Can I touch you?”

You bit your lip, still not looking his way, and nodded. His touch made you jolt, even though his hand was warm, the electricity you felt made all your nerve endings feel like they were on fire.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his hand moving tentatively across your stomach. You nodded but you realized you were panting already, and he had barely touched you. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like,” he suddenly whispered in your ear, and then he was kissing your neck.

You weren’t prepared for the intimacy, you had really only thought about the intercourse part. You hadn’t prepared yourself for the kissing, and the touching, and how he was so good at making you feel good. You felt like you weren’t supposed to enjoy it, that it was supposed to be “just sex” because you were friends and you weren’t doing this because you loved each other, you were only doing it to have a baby. But the more he touched you, the more he kissed you, the more you fell under his spell. You felt like you should tell him to stop, to just get on with it, but you knew he was doing it to get you nice and wet and therefore more comfortable to take him.

His kisses started to move along your jaw, towards your lips, and when he was finally there, his lips on yours, you felt a panic bubble up in your chest. It was too intimate, too much for someone who wasn’t yours. You pulled away, and he looked at you in surprise.

“No kissing on the lips,” you managed to say, maybe that would be enough to keep it less intimate, you told yourself. He nodded without saying a word, his hand coming up to your breast.

“Is it okay if I touch you here?” he asked, his eyes on yours. You thought for a moment and decided it was okay, and when you nodded he cupped your breast tentatively, all the while watching you for your reaction. When you didn’t pull away he squeezed gently, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

You pressed your lips together, trying to suppress a moan, because everything he was doing was making you feel so good. He kept watching your reaction, and when he was satisfied that you were reacting favorably he got bolder, his hand slipping down between your legs.

You yelped when he touched you there, your legs involuntarily closing and trapping his hand. He froze, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” you apologized, flushing with embarrassment, “reflex reaction.”

“It’s okay,” he said softly, as you slowly opened up your legs again. He moved his hand slowly, gently, just rubbing the inside of your thigh. “You can relax, Y/N, I promise I won’t hurt you.” His words were soft, his tone gentle, and it did wonders to calm and soothe you.

You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he reached tentatively with his finger, just lightly touching your folds. The electricity you felt when he first touched you came back with a vengeance, and you almost melted right into the bed. Your reaction encouraged him though, and he pressed his finger further in, rubbing your wetness around. When he was satisfied with the state of your arousal he got into position between your legs, placing the tip of his cock at your entrance. He paused, looking you in the eye, gently stroking your cheek.

“Ready?” he asked gently, “I’ll go slow.”

You nodded vigorously, to be honest the anticipation was killing you and you were very much aroused, wanting him to just get on with it. When he pushed into you though, you realized you should really be careful what you wished for. The feeling of him stretching you was almost too much, every inch he pushed in agonizingly slow amplifying your arousal to a dizzying degree. By the time he was seated all the way inside you you were panting, almost out of breath already.

“Okay?” he asked, through gritted teeth. You could tell he was holding back for dear life, but he purposely went achingly slow to make sure you were comfortable.

“Yes,” you said, having adjusted to his size, “you can move now.” Your pussy clenched involuntarily around him and he hissed.

“Don’t do that, Y/N,” he groaned, “I won’t last.”

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, and as if to get you back he snapped his hips, making you cry out.

“Fuck!” you screamed, and that definitely encouraged him, and he set a pace, fucking you into the mattress. You felt your toes curl, a familiar knot building in your stomach. Once again, you thought, you felt like you shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as you were, it was more important for him to come inside you. “Come on, baby, come for me,” you whispered in his ear, hoping the dirty talk would encourage him.

“Almost there,” he grunted, and as much as you tried not to enjoy it, the way he was drilling into you felt too good. You bit your lip and grasped at the sheets, trying to keep your orgasm down, but he took it as a sign that you were about to come. He reached between you and thumbed your clit, and at that moment your orgasm exploded out of you without warning. He groaned as you clenched around him, finally spilling his seed inside you. You were dizzy, mind hazy from your orgasm, but you were content at the feeling of his cum inside you. He started to pull out, then stopped.

“Oh,” he said, and you looked up at him to see why he was saying that.

“What is it?” you asked.

“It’s leaking out of you,” he pointed down between your legs. You panicked.

“Well you’re not supposed to pull out right away!” you wrung your hands frantically, “push it back in!”

He looked at you incredulously, before looking down at his already softening cock, realizing it was useless at that point. So he just used his fingers, gathering up the cum that had leaked down and pushing it back into your pussy. You bit your lip again, because the more he pushed in, the more aroused you became, surprised that you weren’t oversensitive at this point. He must’ve noticed your reaction because he didn’t stop, pushing in further and further, in and out, faster and faster, until you were coming again, pussy pulsing around his fingers.

You took a deep breath to regulate your breathing, while he pulled his fingers out of you and sat back.

“Are you okay?” he asked, when you still lay there, unmoving.

“Yes,” you responded, staring up at the ceiling.

“Well, I guess I’ll get going,” he said awkwardly, when you didn’t say anything else.

You nodded, still staring up at the ceiling. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll be here.” He dressed without saying anything more and left the room.

---

He came over again the next night, and you repeated the same awkward scene from the night before. This continued for a few cycles, with no success, and again you were losing hope.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me,” you said dejectedly one day. Jaehyun looked over at you, concern etched on his face.

“The doctor said you were fine,” he replied, attempting to soothe you.

“Maybe there’s something wrong with you then,” you huffed, but Jaehyun just shook his head.

“Y/N, they put us through a bunch of tests and said we’re both fine,” he put a hand on your knee to reassure you.

“Then why isn’t it working?” you lamented, on the verge of tears.

“Do you want my opinion?” he asked hesitantly. You looked up at him in surprise.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, curious as to what he had to say.

“Well, I’ve been reading those links the doctor sent, and it said stress is a big factor,” he stated carefully, “I think you just need to relax, and let it happen.”

You were floored. On the one hand you were touched that he had actually read the links the doctor had sent (you had been too impatient to bother), on the other hand, what exactly did he mean by ‘letting it happen’?

“Let’s do things differently next time, what do you think?” he had a twinkle in his eye that was starting to alarm you.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked suspiciously.

“You’ll see.” He smiled, much too widely for your liking.

---

The next time came around and you were more nervous than you were the first night, and if this was his idea of making it more relaxed he was already failing miserably. When he showed up at your door though, you almost didn’t recognize him. 

Instead of a t-shirt and sweats, he was wearing a crisp white button-down and jeans that sat sexily on his hips. Instead of his hair flat and falling in his face he had it pulled back, with just a few strands falling over his forehead. He also smelled incredible, a musky scent that forever trapped you in his hold, and made you want him in every way he would let you.

He smiled at you, but not in the way a friend smiles at a friend, and when he leaned in to give you a kiss on the cheek you almost passed out from the warmth of his lips and the intoxicating scent emanating from his skin. He walked past you to the bedroom, leaving you standing there with your mouth open and your underwear dampening.

When you finally collected yourself, you went upstairs to hear the bath running. You walked into the bathroom to see him drawing a bath, candles surrounding the tub, flower petals in the water, and the most luscious smelling bath bomb marinating in it.

“Jaehyun, what-” 

“Shh,” he put a finger to your lips, and even that act was so sensual you had to squeeze your legs together, “let me take care of you.” He reached down and turned off the water. “Get undressed and get in the bath, and I’ll come back and help you get relaxed.” He left the room and you did what he said, calling him back in once you were in the bath and the cloudy bubbly water reached the tops of your breasts.

He had such a calm and serene look on his face that it almost threw you off, but then he was taking your puff and squeezing body wash on it.

“May I?” he asked, and when you nodded he gently took your arm and ran the puff along it. He did the same with the other arm, and that simple act, along with the warmth of the bath water, did wonders to soothe you. You felt like you were floating, with the calming scents of the bath bomb, and his gentle touch. He started to run the puff along your neck and you bent your head back and sighed. Soon enough he was dipping below the surface of the water, running the puff between your breasts, and you sighed even deeper as he got lower, past your stomach, and lower still. The puff was forgotten, and now it was just his hand, reaching down between your legs. It all felt so good, you spread your legs even wider, wanting more.

“How does it feel?” he whispered, so close to your ear you shuddered.

“So good,” you couldn’t help but moan, and then his hand was there, cupping your pussy.

“I want to make you feel good, Y/N,” he purred, his voice like honey, “will you let me make you feel good?”

“Yes,” the word came out on a long exhale, as he plunged a finger between your folds, and you couldn’t help but fall apart. He fingered you until you came, water splashing all around you as you writhed in pleasure. When you were done he picked you up out of the bath, not caring that his clothes were getting wet, and carried you to the bed. You couldn’t care that you were probably soaking the bed, because his lips were on your neck, hot and urgent, leaving marks that you’d have trouble concealing the next day.

You pulled at his shirt, wanting it off already, and he obliged, throwing the damp fabric to a corner of the room. You rubbed your hands all over his chest, feeling the firm muscle there, then down to his abs. He groaned against your neck when you undid his belt and slipped your hand over his hardened cock.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he hissed, when you wrapped your hand around it and pumped.

“Don’t come yet,” you whispered, taking your hand away, opting instead to pull the rest of his jeans and boxers off. You wrapped your legs around him, encouraging him to enter you, but he pulled back slightly.

“Slow down,” he breathed, and you could feel him smiling against your neck, “this isn’t a race, Y/N,” he continued kissing down the column of your neck, down to your chest, “relax, and let me make you feel good.”

You finally relented, relaxing as he’d ordered, letting yourself melt into the mattress as he sucked on your skin. Your body was on fire, both from the heat of the bath you just had as well as the way his lips were ruining you. When he got down to your lower stomach you realized where he was headed, and instead of fighting the pleasure you were feeling you simply gave in. As soon as his wet tongue collided with your wet folds you let go, moaning wantonly at the feeling. Every sound you made spurred him on, every jerk and jolt of your body gave him the impetus to push you to the height of pleasure, until you were yanking at his hair and convulsing around his tongue.

“That was fucking hot, Y/N,” he almost growled, wiping at his chin as he moved to hover above you, “I almost came.”

“Don’t,” you panted, trying to catch your breath, “you need to come inside me.”

“You want it? Want my cum inside you, fill you up,” his voice was deep, intense, a tone you’d never heard from him, and certainly words you’d never heard from him, but it certainly was doing the job and making you very aroused.

“Oh god,” you exclaimed, unaware that dirty talk was something you liked. Your previous boyfriends hadn’t been this filthy, but you found you loved it.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard, and you’re gonna take all of my cum,” he continued, voice raspy, breath hot in your ear, “I’m gonna knock you the fuck up, and watch your belly grow with my baby.”

“Jaehyun!” you cried out, losing yourself completely. You grabbed a hold of his neck and pulled him down, and for a split second you saw his eyes grow wide as you smashed your lips against his, your no-kissing rule forgotten. He kissed you with the same passion and intensity that he ate you out with, and you wondered why you had ever put that no-kissing rule into place if he could make you feel like that with his lips. You moaned when his tongue entered your mouth, just as he slid his cock inside you.

This time you didn’t hold back, allowing yourself to feel everything. The way his cock slid in and out of you, the way the tip kept hitting that spot so deep inside you. The way his tongue moved in your mouth, the way his hands rubbed up and down your body, sometimes squeezing your breasts and flicking your nipples. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling his muscles move, and when you felt your orgasm start to build you dragged your nails against his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna come,” he broke from the kiss to drop his head down to your chest, his thrusts getting harder but more erratic.

“Oh god, do it,” you panted, your orgasm about to burst out of you, “fill me up, baby, I want your cum so bad.”

That was enough to send him over the edge, and he pulled you flush against him as he came inside you, the particularly forceful thrusts triggering your own orgasm and making you clench around him. He let out a loud groan as you milked him, fingernails digging into his back.

When you were both done you held him against you, not wanting to let him go. He obliged, just holding you, his face tucked against your neck. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and that, along with his arms around you and his weight on top of you was all oddly comforting.

“I’m gonna pull out,” he finally said, when he had gone soft inside you. You sighed but nodded, and once he had pulled out you clamped your legs together, trying to keep as much of his cum inside you as you could.

He dressed quietly and you watched him, heart stuttering in your chest, your mind reeling. You had promised him that the sex wouldn’t change anything in your relationship, but you couldn’t believe how wrong you were. You wanted to reach for him, wanted him to stay, but you held back.

“Thanks for that,” you said quietly, and he turned to you and smiled.

“You’re welcome,” he said sincerely, “I’ll do anything for you,” and he brought his hand up and cupped your cheek, his eyes soft as he looked at you, “you’re my best friend.”

You smiled at him, but inside your heart was breaking. How could you ever think you could do this and keep your friendship as it was?

---

A few weeks later you were late, and although you tried not to get your hopes up you couldn’t help but think this was it. You waited to take the pregnancy test, wanting Jaehyun to be there no matter the outcome.

“What is it? What’s wrong? You said it’s an emergency.” He looked so concerned when he came over, and you almost felt bad for not saying what it was about right away.

“I’m late, Jaehyun,” you announced nervously.

“Where do you have to be?”

“No, I mean my period! I haven’t gotten my period yet!”

He paused, the pieces finally falling into place, and his face suddenly lit up. “Oh shit!” He covered his mouth with his hand as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Come with me, I’m gonna take a pregnancy test.” You led him upstairs where he waited outside the bathroom door while you took the test. You placed the stick on the counter and opened the door to let him in.

“Well? What does it say?” he asked, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

“It’s gonna take a few minutes,” you answered nervously, “I can’t look, tell me what it says.” You turned away, so anxious you thought you would pass out.

“One line, so far,” he stated, and you tried to stay calm but your heart was beating out of your chest.

“Hold my hand,” you reached behind you and he took your hand in his, squeezing to comfort you. He was silent for a while, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “Well? What does it say now?”

“I see…” he started to say, and you so desperately wanted to turn around but you were too scared.

“What?! Just say it!”

He pulled you to him, turning you around and lifting the stick up to your eye level. “Two lines.”

You blinked a few times, wanting to make sure you were seeing it right, but every time you opened your eyes there were two solid lines. You were pregnant.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, both of your hands going up to cover your mouth. Jaehyun whooped in celebration, jumping up and down with glee. You saw the genuine happiness in his face and so many emotions ran through you that the only thing you could do was burst into tears.

“Aw, Y/N, don’t cry!” he laughed, gathering you into his arms, thinking you were just crying from happiness. But it was so much more complicated than that. You were getting what you wanted, a baby, but you hadn’t prepared yourself for all the complications of having a baby with your best friend, who you may have developed feelings for.

---

The first trimester was hell. You were throwing up every morning, and feeling nausea for the rest of the day. You had an aversion to most food, even hating the smell of certain things, like meat. The only things you could keep down were bread and noodles, and you wondered how the baby could grow when that was all that you ate. But at every appointment the doctor reassured you that the baby was doing well and developing at a good rate. Jaehyun insisted on going with you to your first ultrasound and as much as you wanted him to, you also dreaded it.

When the fuzzy form of your baby showed up on the screen for the first time you felt a surge of happiness overcome you, tears springing to your eyes at the sight of the tiny figure on the screen. You heard Jaehyun inhale sharply and turned to look at him. The awe in his face was so endearing it made the tears run down your cheeks, and seeing your reaction he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug.

“That’s our baby,” he whispered, his voice almost breaking, and you cried harder.

“Congratulations!” the technician said, patting you both on the shoulder. You felt like you should correct her, tell her that although the baby was technically yours and Jaehyun’s, you weren’t together and wouldn’t be raising the baby as such. But how do you explain that to a complete stranger? You looked over at Jaehyun, who was smiling from ear to ear, shaking the technician’s hand and making no move to explain the situation.

Later, as you were getting ready to leave the clinic, you saw the technician hand over a copy of the ultrasound picture to Jaehyun. He took it happily in his hands, as if it were the most precious thing in the world. As he walked towards you he slipped it into the plastic window spot in his wallet, where your drivers’ license should be, but his now housed a blurry black and white photo of your baby.

“Hey, wanna get something to eat to celebrate?” he asked, slinging an arm around you as you both left the clinic.

You shook your head. As much as you wanted to spend time with him, you found it hurt more than it helped. Once the baby was born you’d have to deal with him being around more often, so it was better to save up your strength for that.

“I’m actually really tired, I just want to go home and rest,” you answered without looking up at him, “besides, I’m still off most foods.”

“Oh, okay, makes sense.” He said, removing his arm from around your shoulder and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He didn’t sound upset or offended, but when you looked at him out of the corner of your eye you saw a flash of emotion cross his face, almost like hurt or disappointment. You felt bad, knowing you had been avoiding him, even giving up your weekly brunches, but you felt it was better this way.

“Listen, I’ll let you know when the next ultrasound is, okay? You can come with me again.” You wanted just to wipe the look of disappointment off his face, and luckily it worked.

“Yeah, that would be great! Thanks so much, Y/N,” he leaned down and hugged you, and it was the closest he’d been to you since the last time you’d had sex to make the baby. You held him close, committing the feel of him and the scent of him to memory, before you pulled away and walked towards your car.

---

If the first trimester had been hell, the second trimester was heaven. Miraculously the nausea disappeared, and you found yourself actually craving food. You felt more energized and less tired, and slept so much better. Your belly was starting to grow, and you actually had to start shopping for maternity clothes. Your mood was so much better, but what really came back with a vengeance was your libido. During the first trimester you couldn’t even think about sex, but now, it was all you could think about.

Usually your vibrator would do the trick, but there were always moments where you’d think about Jaehyun, think about how good he could make you feel. Sometimes just thinking about him fucking you was enough to get you off, but when you really thought about him, about the feeling of his cock parting your folds, or the feeling of his strong hips pounding into you, his face sweaty and his scent overpowering the air between you, nothing was better than the real thing.

Which is how you found yourself one night, holding your phone and dialing his number without hesitation.

“Hey, what’s up,” he answered, his voice sounding distant. You realized you hadn’t spoken to or seen him in weeks, and instantly you felt terrible.

“Um, actually nothing. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t wake me,” you could hear him shuffling around, like he had been lying down and started to sit up, “is something wrong, Y/N?”

He always saw right through you, you could hear the concern is his voice, and there was no turning back now.

“Could you come over? I think I need some… company.” You didn’t know if you could just ask for sex over the phone, and was it really only sex that you wanted? Or did you just want him there, with you.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I can come over,” you heard more shuffling, like he was getting dressed, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be better when you’re here.” You answered truthfully.

When he showed up at your door you couldn’t stop yourself from pulling him towards you and hugging him tightly. He didn’t protest, just held you and rubbed your back gently.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked softly against your hair.

“I miss you,” you admitted, voice muffled against his chest because you were too ashamed to look at him.

“I’m around, you know,” he chuckled, “you’re the one who cancelled our brunches.”

You pulled back and forced yourself to make eye contact with him. “No, Jaehyun, I miss you.” You touched his chest when you said it, giving him a look laden with meaning. He understood right away, his eyebrows rising slightly. You took him by the hand and pulled him inside, leading him upstairs and to your bedroom. He let himself be led, but once you were behind closed doors he suddenly took you into his arms and kissed you. The kiss wasn’t subtle, or gentle, it was intense and forceful, his intent surely to rile you up. It definitely worked, because you could feel wetness pooling in your panties as he stuck his tongue down your throat.

“You want my cock again,” he growled, breaking from the kiss to suck a line down your throat. You gasped at his aggressiveness, but you had to admit it really turned you on.

“Yes,” you breathed out, as he stripped you of your clothes and pushed you towards the bed. You fumbled at his clothes, trying to get them off but you found your limbs were weak from the way he was handling you. He took over, stripping off the rest of his clothes, his cock springing forward when he pulled his boxers down. You admired it for only a second before he turned you around, pushing you onto your hands and knees on the bed.

“You like my cock, don’t you, you like me fucking into your little pussy,” he spoke so low, his chest flush against your back so you could feel the reverberation of his voice.

You didn’t have a chance to answer, because he rammed his cock into you, a scream tearing from your throat as he went as deep as he could.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he started to pound into you. You weren’t sure how pregnant sex would feel, since so many things were changing in your body, but you weren’t prepared for what you got. It felt like your entire body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every part of you. He hit places inside you that you’d never felt before, and all of it was like nothing you’d ever experienced.

“Jae,” you panted, “Jae, oh my god!” your orgasm was coming on, super fast and beyond your control.

“You’re gonna come already, baby? Alright, come on, come all over my cock,” he reached down, and although it was a little awkward because of your belly, he managed to get to your clit and rub it with the pad of his thumb.

Your vision went white when your orgasm hit, your fingers and toes going numb as your pussy clenched around his cock. You could barely hold yourself up, your upper body falling to the bed as you convulsed around him. He kept going, fucking you through it, and when you stilled he pulled out and lay you on your back. He gave you a moment to catch your breath, before he entered you again. You cried out at the oversensitivity, but he went slowly, and soon enough you started to feel pleasure again.

“I can keep going,” he said, as he fucked into you at a slow but deliberate pace, “you want more, don’t you?”

You nodded vigorously, already feeling another orgasm building. He propped himself up then, and pounded into you, the bed shaking from his harsh thrusts. You gripped and pulled at the sheets, unable to contain the needy whines and moans coming up out of your mouth. You forced your eyes open to see him hovering over you, a look of intense concentration on his face, his brow sweaty, hair falling into his eyes. When he saw you looking at him his concentration faltered, and he bent his head down for a kiss. You were expecting a kiss to match the intensity with which he was fucking you, but instead it was soft, gentle, lingering. You felt something in it, something above and beyond what he was doing to you, something that carried you where you most wanted to be but didn’t dare go. The orgasm you had then was different, not just purely physical, not just filled with lust, but something more elevated, more emotional.

He broke the kiss to grunt loudly as he came, spilling more of his seed inside you. When he was done he pulled out, and sat at the edge of the bed.

“Y/N,” he said, and you don’t know why he sounded so defeated. You sat up, preparing yourself for what he was going to say.

“Jaehyun,” you reached for him but thought better of it, your hand dropping into your lap.

“I can’t keep doing this with you,” he said, his voice quiet but determined, “it’s fucking me up and I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Your heart sank. He was pulling out of your life, and it was all your fault for doing this to him. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun.”

He got dressed hurriedly, without looking back at you, and before he opened the door to leave he turned back.

“You need to decide for yourself what you want me to be,” he still didn’t look at you, opting to look at the floor instead, “I’ll always be here for you, but I need to know where I stand.”

The door closing behind him echoed in the room, the absence of him already settling into your heart.

---

You went through the rest of the second trimester on your own, too ashamed and heartbroken to see Jaehyun, and too confused to sort out your feelings. He’d text you once in a while to ask you how you were doing, how you were feeling, but there was no talk beyond the pregnancy. He didn’t come to any more of your doctor’s appointments, nor did you ever invite him to any more in the first place. The third trimester hit even worse than the first, your belly was now so big it was almost uncomfortable to do anything, you now had constant heartburn, and you were going to the bathroom every ten minutes because of the weight on your bladder.

About a month before your due date, you were making dinner in the kitchen when you felt an uncomfortable tightening in your abdomen. You clutched your stomach, gripping the counter in alarm and wondering what you should do. The feeling came and went, but returned after a few minutes. Concerned, you called your doctor, who advised you to come in to the hospital just to get checked out. As you were getting ready you got a text from Jaehyun, asking how you were doing.

Jaehyun: hey just doing my check-in

JH: how is it going today

Me: well it’s probably nothing but

Me: just going to the hospital to get checked out

JH: wait what

JH: let me take you

Me: i should be ok

JH: Y/N pls let me take you

Me: ok

JH: thank you i’ll be right there

You sighed, wishing you had never told him and made him worry. Luckily you didn’t have to wait long since he lived nearby, and soon enough he was pulling up to your house. You didn’t bother to wait for him to come to the door, coming out as soon as you saw his car. You were locking the front door when the uncomfortable feeling came back, making you double over, clutching your stomach.

“Y/N!” you heard Jaehyun yell behind you, and soon enough his arms were cradling you as you crouched over. “What happened? What’s going on?”

His voice sounded frantic, terrified, and when you looked up in his eyes he looked so scared that it made your chest ache.

You smiled weakly, trying to placate him, “Don’t worry, it’s probably just false labor,” you patted him on the arm and soon enough the feeling went away. “My doctor just wants me to come in and get checked out, just in case.”

He nodded, but didn’t look reassured at all, creases of worry still lining his face. He also didn’t let you go, holding onto your arm as you walked to the car. At the hospital he didn’t leave your side, until the doctor came to do your examination.

“I’ll wait outside,” he said hesitantly, but you could tell he didn’t want to leave at all, eyes looking longingly back at you as he left the room.

After the doctor examined you and reassured you that it really was just false labor, you were cleared to leave and found Jaehyun in the hall, pacing. Once he saw you he ran up to you, searching your face with frantic eyes.

“Well? What happened?” he’d taken your hands in his, and his palms felt cold and clammy.

“It was nothing, just false labor, the doctor told me to go home and rest.” You reassured him, squeezing his hands and smiling softly at him. He let out a long breath, collapsing into a nearby chair.

“Oh my god, Y/N, I almost died!” he passed the back of his hand over his eyes dramatically, and you suppressed a giggle at his overdramatic show.

“Don’t laugh!” he sat up and looked at you incredulously, “I lost ten years of my life just now!”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” you pressed your lips together trying not to smile. He broke into a wide grin then, pleased with himself that he had managed to lighten your mood with his sense of humor.

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

---

The drive from the hospital had been quiet, both of you realizing that there was still this huge wall between you, and neither of you were brave enough to breach it. He walked you to your door in continued silence, and once you reached your doorstep he turned around to walk back to his car.

“Jaehyun,” you called, unable to stand it anymore, “do you wanna come in and talk?”

He turned around, a mixture of hope, fear, and resignation on his face, and nodded.

The time apart had made you realize how much you missed him, and seeing him again had made you realize how much you still wanted him to be a part of your life. You were hoping to salvage something of your relationship, but you were fully aware that you could never go back to what it had been.

You sat him down on the sofa and took a deep breath.

“Jaehyun,” you began, getting more and more nervous as you went on, “I know I made things weird, even though I promised I wouldn’t,” he opened his mouth to say something but you stopped him, determined to get out what you wanted to say. “I was so focused on having a baby that I didn’t think about what involving you would mean, and what it would do to our friendship. I think I was just naive, I didn’t think anything would change, and I was so wrong.”

He sat across from you, and even though he was just inches away it felt like he was miles away, like an unfathomable chasm had opened up between you. Then he looked up at you, hesitant, but determined.

“Y/N, we can’t go back and change things anymore. What’s happened has happened.” He tilted his head to regard you, taking a deep breath before moving on, “so I just need to know one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want me to be a part of your life?”

“Yes. Always.” You answered truthfully, without a doubt in your mind. He smiled, but there was still something behind his eyes.

“Hey, do you remember that pact we made in eighth grade?” He suddenly asked, his eyes twinkling.

“The marriage one?” you scanned your eighth grade memories and that was the only pact you could think of.

“Yeah, the one where we said if neither of us are married by the time we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other?”

“Yes, I remember.” It was during PE class, when you and Jaehyun were sitting in the field while everyone else was running around chasing soccer balls. You don’t remember how the subject came up, but soon enough you were doing pinky swears and Jaehyun was fashioning rings out of blades of grass for you and him to wear. You both had a good laugh over it, and never thought about it again until this moment.

“So what if we didn’t wait?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if we didn’t wait until we’re thirty, what if we just did it now? I mean, we’re having a baby together already.”

“Jaehyun, are you proposing right now?” you said it as a joke, even chuckling to yourself, you weren’t taking the whole thing seriously at all, except Jaehyun wasn’t laughing.

“I mean, I don’t have a ring, but…” he looked around the room, and seeing your spider plant on a nearby table he picked a leaf off and rolled it around itself, making a ring out of it, and slipped it on your finger. You were speechless.

“Jaehyun, you’re serious.” You managed to say after the thoughts stopped running through your brain. You hadn’t really thought about marriage, none of the guys you’d dated had ever made you think about it. You knew you wanted kids, but marriage was something you figured you couldn’t achieve, never having found the right guy. Yet here he was all along, Jeong Jaehyun,  your best friend, someone who knew you inside and out. A dawning realization hit you then, that maybe none of your relationships ever worked out because you kept comparing them to Jaehyun, and no one ever held up. You were in love with your best friend, and you didn’t even know it.

“Well?” he asked, with raised eyebrows and hopeful eyes. You stared at the leaf ring on your finger, turning it around and around, your heart and mind finally finding peace in your realization. You looked up at him, cupping his face, and he looked like he was bracing himself for a possibly negative response.

“Yes.” You answered, smiling brightly at him, and it took him a moment to realize you weren’t turning him down. His face broke out into a wide grin, his dimples as deep as ever, his eyes shiny. He pulled you in for a hug, but your belly made it somewhat awkward.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you’re huge!” he looked down at your belly in awe.

“Jaehyun what the fuck!” you smacked him on the arm, slightly offended.

“No, I meant I was too busy being worried about you that I never noticed how big your belly had gotten.” He reached out his hand tentatively. “Can I touch?”

“Of course,” you said, happy that you could share this with him. You took his hand and placed it on your belly.

“Can you feel the baby move?” He asked, eyes growing wide when his hand landed on your stomach.

“Sometimes, mostly when I’m lying still though.” You let him rub his hand over your stomach, endeared at how awestruck he was, his mouth forming a little ‘o’ as he moved his hand around. He suddenly leaned forward, his face getting very close to your belly.

“Hey little one,” he called softly, and your heart clenched at the sight of him talking to the baby in your belly, “I’m your dad.”

Suddenly you felt a jolt in your ribs, as the baby stretched and kicked inside you.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Did you feel that?” Jaehyun clapped excitedly.

“Damn right I felt it,” you groaned, patting your stomach, “keep it down in there, kicking mama in the ribs really hurts!”

Jaehyun burst out laughing, gathering you in his arms and hugging you tightly. “That was adorable!” he exclaimed, and your heart felt warm as you wrapped your arms around him.

---

You decided to just do a small backyard ceremony for your wedding, neither of you fond of big parties that meant even bigger expenses. Jaehyun moved into your house since he had been rooming with a friend, and once all of his things had been moved in and installed, you were left alone with each other once again.

You don’t know why, but your first night as a married couple felt like the first night you’d had sex, awkward as hell. Once again you stood on either side of the bed, unsure as to what to do.

“Bed?” he finally asked after you’d both stood there for too long.

“Bed,” you answered, and you both got in at the same time. You couldn’t help but laugh at your awkwardness, and that certainly broke the tension. You turned to your side, the only way you could get comfortable with how big your belly was, and he slotted his body behind you, wrapping an arm around you and resting his hand on your belly. You sighed contentedly, loving the feeling of being in his arms.

“This is nice,” he whispered, but his breath against your ear made you shiver, and suddenly contentment wasn’t the only thing you were feeling. Not to mention his hand that was on your belly had moved to your hip, fingers tracing wide circles over the fabric of your sleep shorts.

“Jaehyun,” you didn’t mean to, but his name came out in a moan, and his hand stopped its circuit, the faintest bit of pressure being applied to your hip.

“Y/N?” he questioned, but you were taking his hand and moving it up to your breasts. Once he cupped them you moaned again. “Holy shit, Y/N, your boobs are huge!”

“Jaehyun!” you reprimanded him, but he apologized quickly.

“Sorry, sorry, I just-” he cupped and squeezed, feeling the weight of them, “wow,” was all he could say.

“Well they won’t be this big for too long, so you better take advantage of them now,” you encouraged, and he did, tweaking your nipples until you were moaning into your pillow.

“Tell me if I do anything that hurts, or makes you feel uncomfortable, okay?” he whispered into your ear, before he started to plant wet kisses along your neck and shoulder. Your mind went hazy at the feeling of his lips on your skin, and soon he slipped a hand down, past the waistband of your shorts.

You inhaled sharply when his fingers found you wet, when he gathered some of your arousal to rub it around your clit. You moaned loudly when he made circles around your bud, pressing your face further into your pillow.

“Don’t do that, baby, I wanna hear you,” he pulled the covers off and pushed your pillow away, helping you take off your shirt and the rest of your clothes so you were fully exposed to him. He looked at you, lust and hunger clouding his eyes. “Fuck, you look so gorgeous knocked up with my baby.”

Your pussy clenched at his words and you pulled at his own clothes to get him to take them off. “Come here and fuck me, husband.”

Your words ignited something in him, and he bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and pushing into you. You cried out, not caring anymore how loud you were being, the feeling of his cock inside you throwing you into the heights of pleasure. Once you started though, you couldn’t stop, moans and whimpers and whines tumbling out of your lips as he pumped his cock inside you.

“You like it, don’t you?” he growled, “you like my cock so much you let me knock you up.”

You moaned even louder at his words, your orgasm starting to build in the pit of your stomach. “Yes, god, yes!”

“You want my cum, baby? Look at where it got you, huh? You let me come inside you and now you’re knocked up.” His voice was raspy, deep, and it cut right to your core.

“Fuck, Jaehyun! I’m gonna come!” you warned him, grasping at the sheets as your orgasm hit you, your pussy pulsing around his cock. It didn’t take much longer for him to come, one last thrust that took your breath away, and he spilled his seed into you.

“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing aside a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “did it hurt at all?”

“No, not at all, it felt good,” you smiled at him, wanting to alleviate his concern. He looked relieved, before he bent down and kissed the swell of your stomach.

“Sorry, baby,” he said sheepishly, addressing the baby, and you could only laugh, rubbing a hand through his hair as he smiled up at you.

---

The next day Jaehyun had left for work, and you were almost out the door yourself when you felt something gush between your legs. You figured you knew what it was and, resolved to stay calm, you quickly called Jaehyun.

“Babe, what is it?” he answered on the first ring.

“I think my water broke.” 

“Okay, stay calm, I’m on my way back.”

It didn’t take long for him to come back since he’d just left, and you drove to the hospital all the while holding tightly to his hand. The contractions started then, not too bad at first but as time went on the pain was hard to bear. By the time you reached the hospital you were grimacing in pain and Jaehyun was yelling for someone to come and help you.

You labored for hours, Jaehyun never leaving your side, giving you strength even when you felt like you had no more to give. You wondered how you could have ever done this without him, without his unwavering support, his cheerful but calm demeanor raising you up when you felt like giving in. Soon enough you had a healthy baby in your hands, a boy that an ecstatic Jaehyun had already dubbed his ‘mini me’.

---

If you had known what the first few weeks with a newborn would have been like you would have seriously rethought having a baby in the first place. You were exhausted more than you had ever been in your life, catching sleep for only those precious moments when the baby would sleep. Your breasts were sore from breastfeeding, and if you never saw another poopy diaper in your life it would be too soon. What made it all worth it, was the look of pure innocence in your baby’s eyes, and the way your husband would stare at him like he was the most precious person in the world.

One night you were woken again by the baby’s cries, and trudging to his room you were surprised to see Jaehyun already there.

“Sorry to wake you,” he whispered, “I was changing him and he lost his binky.” You stood in the doorway and watched as your husband expertly handled your son, swaddling him in his blankets and making sure the pacifier was situated in his mouth. “Go back to bed, I got this.”

Jaehyun had done many things during your time together that you considered sexy, but this was probably the sexiest thing he had ever done. You walked back to your bedroom, mentally reminding yourself to reward him when you were more awake.

You lay in bed though, unable to fall back asleep. Your mind was racing, anxieties resurfacing at that dark and quiet time of night. Jaehyun eventually came back, sliding into the bed and spooning you, his arm coming to wrap around your waist.

“Jae?” you whispered, hoping he hadn’t fallen back asleep right away.

“Hm? I thought you were asleep.” He sounded tired, tightening his arm around you.

“Is this the life you wanted?” you asked him, rubbing his arm that was wrapped around you.

“Absolutely.” He answered, without hesitation.

“No, I’m serious.”

“So am I. Why wouldn’t you think I was being serious?” he suddenly propped himself up on his elbow so he could see your face.

“Because you had a life before this, and now it’s just-” you waved your hand in the air, “me and the baby.”

“Just you and the baby? Y/N, you and Yuno are the most important things in my life right now.” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yeah I had Friday night drinks and Sunday basketball games, and that was fun and all, but you two are my family now.”

“Don’t you miss it?”

“If I did I’d just go and do it? So no, I don’t miss it right now. Maybe eventually? But that doesn’t mean I’d love you and Yuno less.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d told you he loved you, but you knew you’d never get tired of hearing it. You’d been surprised when he’d told you he’d been in love with you for a while, not daring to say anything about it for fear of ruining your friendship. When you’d told him that you wanted to have a baby he knew that there was no one else in the world that he wanted to bear his children except you, and he was relieved when you accepted his offer of being a sperm donor. He had been prepared to be just that, but the sex threw everything into chaos, including his feelings for you and his resolve to keep your relationship as just friends. He felt himself falling even deeper for you, but his heart couldn’t handle the push and pull he was feeling from you. He never wanted to pull out of your life, and he spent more time staring at his phone waiting for you to call or text than he dared to admit. Bringing up the marriage pact had been a gamble, and he was terrified that you’d say no, but when you said yes, he could barely contain his happiness.

“Listen,” he said, taking your hand in his, “this life is more than I could have ever asked for.”

“Really?” you asked, turning to look at him, “With me?”

“Baby, it’s always been you.”

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #nct imagines #nct smut

[sugars-fluffy-escapes]

The Five (And several more) ND Love Languages: Infodumping (with some echolalia)

ND!Spencer Reid x ND!reader

SFW; fluff through and through

Words: 1499

Summary - The resident ND couple of the BAU spend some quality time relaxing at home and indulging each others' infodumps.

Warnings: Just a whole lot of cuteness, some happy stimming, and a little bit of tickling

DISCLAIMER: This fic is inspired by my experiences as a neurodivergent individual when it comes to infodumping and echolalia. Not everyone who's neurodivergent experiences what the reader in this story experiences.

Spencer listened intently as his partner rambled on about their love of the movie, "Fantastic Mr. Fox." They'd mentioned how much they adored stop motion films and Spencer had suggested the two curl up under blankets and watch one for a night in movie date. After Y/N had a bit of a dilemma with which film to show Spencer first, they were finally able to select the movie after using a randomizer.

"One of my favorite things about this movie is the color scheme throughout," Y/N said with a smile. "The warm tones are just so soothing and I love how consistent they are in every scene, even when it's night time. I feel so cozy, and bubbly, and warm. I just realized I stim a lot during this movie."

"You know, warm colors tend to be ones more associated with energy and feelings of happiness, so given this movie is one hour and eighty-seven minutes of warm tones, it makes sense that you stim a lot," Spencer interjected, a grin forming on his face when he saw that the tables had turned and Y/N had become the one listening intently, both of them stimming in different ways with their hands. "Not to mention, it's a movie you love."

"That makes perfect sense, Spencer,"

Y/N affirmed.

Spencer chuckled, before his smile faded as he began to ponder. "Y/N, there's something I've been meaning to point out for a while. I noticed it the very first day we met."

He saw the slight change in Y/N's expression and knew they were nervous as to what it might be. They weren't sure if it would be a good thing or a bad thing and it made them nervous. The genius was quick to reassure them, and gently offered his hand to them, which they accepted. The gesture was not one Y/N ever took for granted.

"It's nothing bad, button, I promise. It's just that," Spencer paused when his smile grew wider, "out of everyone at the bureau, you've been the one person who's never interrupted or stopped me from rambling or sharing so much information in a short amount of time. You always look intrigued and interested to hear what I have to share."

"Because I am," Y/N stated. "Spence, I've infodumped my whole life, and for a long time it felt so embarrassing. Then, I met you, and I began to feel comfortable and less embarrassed about it. You helped me to feel okay with it just by talking to me. Plus... you were the first teammate I told about being neurodivergent... Albeit unintentionally, via oversharing infodump, but your reassurance helped me feel better about telling the rest of the team. N-Not to mention, you being neurodivergent too just makes me feel so safe when I'm around you."

When Y/N heard the sound of Foxy whistling on screen, the beginning of his trademark, they made the clicking sound that followed in time with him, before repeating the sound a few seconds later. Spencer smiled, still holding their hand, before inviting them to lean on him, opening his arms. His partner happily accepted.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?" Y/N looked up at him, averting their eyes a couple times before returning their gaze back to his.

He knew Y/N had struggles with eye contact and he never took it personally when they broke said contact, wanting them to feel as comfortable as possible. Spencer understood wholeheartedly that it was difficult for them. He gently lifted their hand and gave it a quick kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too, bookworm."

They grew too shy to continue eye contact and briefly hid their face in his shirt, a gesture that never failed to melt their boyfriend's heart.

"Did you know that what is believed to be the first film made using the stop motion animation technique was from 1898?" Spencer questioned, grinning the moment he saw Y/N's head lift up, their eyes bright and a smile on their lips.

"I didn't," they answered. "Please continue."

"Apparently it was a film called 'The Humpty Dumpty Circus.' All that's left of it are still images. It's also possible that said stills were in fact not from a film but instead photos of a popular early 20th century children's toy set," Spencer elaborated.

"A toy set..." Y/N repeated. "Did I ever tell you that I used to make mini stop motion animations with my toy sets? I remember, my friend had this book about animation and some tutorials for how to make certain ones. I'm sure we still have some that we made somewhere. I once made one out of clay about a marshmallow prince and princess."

When they saw the look on Spencer's face at their words, they couldn't stop their giggle. He chuckled in response. "Marshmallow prince and princess?"

"Mhm~"

"I hope I can see that stop motion of yours someday."

"Perhaps."

When Spencer playfully raised his eyebrow, Y/N began laughing harder, and soon enough he'd begun to laugh as well, and that laughter only grew as the two went back and forth repeating the single word.

"Perhaps?" Spencer poked his partner's side and grinned when they squeaked and giggled.

"Peheherhaps... Perhahaps~" Y/N hummed. "I love you. That isn't a perhaps, that's a definite and it bears repeating. I love you."

"I love you too. It absolutely bears repeating," Spencer stated, kissing the top of their head. "I love you too, butterfly."

"Wanna watch Coraline tomorrow?" Y/N asked curiously, quietly reciting another movie line under their lips.

"I'd love to. The book was a fascinating read," Spencer answered. "I haven't seen the movie."

"I've seen the movie, but I haven't seen the book- read the book. Son of a bitch, I hate when that happens," Y/N huffed. "'Seen the book...'"

"It's okay," Spencer assured them. "If you'd like, I could read the book to you."

"Yes, please. I love your voice."

That compliment flustered him and he smiled brightly. Y/N grew embarrassed by their own statement and sat up from their boyfriend's arms.

"That was awkward and weird to say, w-wasn't it...?" Y/N asked quietly, partially hiding behind their hand before proceeding to hide their face completely with both. "I-I'm sorry... I-I..."

"Hey," Spencer said softly, sitting up and gently moving Y/N's hands from their face.

"I-I'm embarrassed... It j-just... I..."

"Please don't be embarrassed. I-I'm flattered, Y/N. It means a lot that you find comfort in my voice."

"R-Really?"

"Yes, really," Spencer affirmed, poking their nose.

"Really really?" Y/N repeated with a smile.

"Really. Really. Really!" Spencer emphasized the repeated words with quick pokes to his partner's sides, grinning when they giggled before wrapping his arms around them, allowing himself to fall back onto the cushions as they squeaked and fell onto him.

"Spehencer!" They whined.

"Yes, snugglebutton?"

"S-Snuhugglebutton!?"

"Mhm~ You're my snugglebutton~"

"Shhshshh!"

"Say it~"

"Nohoho."

Without hesitation, Spencer lightly spidered his fingers over Y/N's back, making them shriek with laughter. "Nononohoho! Thahahat ihihihisn't fahahahair!"

"Tickling is perfectly fair. I know how giddy and happy it makes you~" They buried their face in his shirt and kicked their legs, letting out short screams when he rapidly poked at different parts of their back. "Come on, Y/N~"

"Okahahahaaayyyy! IhI'm youhouhour snuhugglebuhuhutton..."

Spencer laughed softly and stilled his hands. "Mhm."

Y/N grew shy again, resting their head on his chest and gazing at the screen. As Kylie interrupted Foxy talking about the dangers of looking a beagle in the eyes, Y/N recited along without missing a beat.

"Yeah? Well first of all, one of these beagles has chronic rabies which he's on medication for and if you get bit by him you have to get shots in your stomach for six months, and second-"

Spencer glanced at Y/N with the biggest grin on his face. "Listen I'm not gonna justify this to you, just pay attention and stop interrupting me. I'm taping this."

Y/N noticed Spencer was looking at them and felt their ears heat up a bit. "S-Sorry," they squeaked sheepishly.

"Y/N, you don't need to apologize. That was so cute," Spencer chuckled. "I'm just admiring you."

"S-Spencer..."

"Recite away, button," Spencer encouraged. "Recite away."

"Recite away?"

"Recite away~"

"Recite away~!"

They would never ever get tired of nights like that one, in the arms of their favorite person in the whole world, happily rambling and infodumping to each other, occasionally going into cycles of echolalia, and musing about their love for each other as they spent time together.

"Did you know they used soap and plastic for the flames in this film?"

"I did not, but I do now," Spencer muttered with a bright smile.

"And plastic wrap to make the water."

"Absolutely fascinating how they make it look so real."

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Surprise drabble!!! More ND reader and this time, ND!Spencer too 💜 There will be a lot more t-words in future drabbles. I just felt this one was perfect with a little bit. (This GIF- Look at his eyes 🥺 and that smile 😭)

#ler!spencer reid #ler!spencer #tickle fic #ticklish!reader #nd!spencer reid #lee!reader #nd!reader #neurodivergent!reader #neurodivergent tickle fic #ND tickle fic #sfw tickle fic #tickle fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid tickle fic