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aemondsbabe · 3 months

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A Kindness

summary: you're finally ramsay's most favorite toy, but is that really a good thing?

pairing: ramsay bolton x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dark content it's ramsay hello, blood kink but no injury/gore, mentioned major character death (again, no injury/gore), slight au (ramsay wins battle of the bastards), choking, rough sex, dirty talk, humiliation/degradation, slapping, piv sex, unprotected sex don't be silly wrap ur willy, hair pulling, creampie, slight breeding kink, puppy play, boot humping idk how to else to phrase it, slight angst but a happy ending for ramsay lmao, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.2k

a/n: my first foray into dark or at least semi-dark writing and my first time writing ramsay! i've had this one in my head for such a long time so it feels really good to actually get it out! hope everyone enjoys and please make sure to heed the warnings with this one!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Dip the cloth again, you dolt,” you snap, looking up from the scroll of parchment rolled out before you on the table when you hear the coarse woolen cloth begin to scrape dryly across the silver Ramsay’s… thing was supposed to be polishing, “If I have to remind you of that one more time, I’ll tell him you tried to touch me. I wonder which part of you he’d hack off for that, hm?”

Reek’s eyes go wide at your threat and he nods his head frantically, quickly reaching over and dunking the cloth into the small bowl of vinegar before him. “Yes, m’lady. Apologies, m’lady.”

A small sigh leaves your lips as you rest an elbow on the table, nose scrunching up slightly at the sour smell that seems to hang like a cloud over the room, the small one by the kitchens.

Probably where the staff ate, you think, staring blankly at the fire crackling away in the hearth. You’ve tried hard to picture it – Winterfell in its former glory, trussed up with wolf banners and filled with children’s laughter, how it was when the Stark’s called it home.

Your eyes linger on Reek and for a second, you’re halfway tempted to ask him about it – what it was like living here, being one of them. You don’t, knowing the question would fall on deaf ears at the least, or send him spiraling to the point of being unable to finish his chores, and then it would be your head on the chopping block as well.

Distantly, you hear the familiar baying of Ramsay’s hounds and your eyes flick up to the narrow slit windows on the wall; you do your best to ignore the way Reek’s head swivels to the sound in the same instance yours does, the way that adrenaline so keenly rushes through you – a burst of panic leading the charge before you have the chance to correct it.

Anticipation, you remind yourself, jaw clenched, Passion, excitement.

Your eyes vacantly scan over the parchment you’d nabbed from the library earlier that morning, an account of the birth of Arya, apparently the sister of the one that had actually managed to escape some weeks back, no doubt frozen now in one of the snowy forests that surrounds Winterfell. You don’t really care, your thoughts once again reverting back to Myranda. Bitterly, you remember how he never made her stay behind when he went hunting, never made her watch over his man-servant, never made her second guess.

The last one is a lie, the truth woven deeply into the many nights you’d spent up with her – listening as she fretted about each word she’d uttered to him that day, hoping each one had been right and had been said at the right time, that he wouldn’t find some made-up cause to punish her. Tendrils of jealousy had twisted into you even then, even as she painted a picture of what he truly was.

Just as men’s voices filter through the windows from the courtyard outside, your lips quirk up into a mean, victorious little smirk.

It’s her body he fed to the dogs, you think, the voice in your mind a proud hiss, Just like Violet’s and Tansy’s and Kyra’s. You remember the day well enough, remember the shock of seeing your friend's body laying in the courtyard as you’d run out to greet Ramsay, teal eyes staring at nothing. It had been you that had warmed his bed that very night, and all the ones after it.

“There you are,” a familiar voice sounds from behind you, nearly making you yelp as Reek scrambles to stand up from the table. Before you even have a chance to, a strong hand clasps over your shoulder, stilling your movements, “No, no, don’t get up on my account.” Rusty copper stains color his hand, dried blood outlining each of his nails. You don’t let your mind linger on what the source of it could be.

You whip your head around and swallow nervously as he chuckles lowly, “Ramsay!” You breathe in greeting, the corners of your lips tilting up into a tentative smile, though that’s quickly washed away as you take in the messy splotches of red that stain his coat and tunic, that snake their way up the pale column of his throat and dot the sides of his face.

He looks every bit the hunter and you wonder, not for the first time, what that makes you.

“You seem quite comfortable here, pet,” he drawls, leaning down until he’s eye-level with you, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re more at home down here with the help,” he continues, hand tightening to the point of pain on your shoulder, making you grit your teeth, “Than you are in our chambers where you’re meant to be.”

Our chambers. A privilege he never granted her. Stupidly, your heart sings.

His hand tightens on your shoulder once more, finally drawing a pained whine from your lips.

“Y-You told me to watch him! To make sure he –” You’re cut off as Ramsay unceremoniously hauls you to your feet, clawing at your leather doublet. A cry leaves your lips as the hand on your shoulder tangles into the hair at the nape of your neck, tugging as he forces your head back, blue eyes flicking to your neck as you swallow thickly.

“I told you to be in our chambers when I return from hunts,” he corrects you, standing to his full height as he holds you tightly, forcing you unsteadily onto your tip-toes, “That I expected you to be at the door, ready and waiting for me.” His lips ghost over your ear as he speaks, his voice a low growl that shouldn’t excite you the way it does.

“I’m sorry,” you wince internally at the way your voice comes out as a pained little squeak, your hands scrambling to hang onto his forearm, nails digging into the stained quilted fabric of his jacket.

“You know how I get after a hunt,” he suddenly pulls away from you, his hand pulling out of your hair, a gasp leaving you as your heels drop to the floor. You blink as he reaches up, not flinching from years of practice, though instead of striking you or harshly gripping at your jaw like you expect, his hand cups your cheek. Your chest rises and falls as he strokes his thumb over your cheekbone, blood stained fingers now delicate against your soft skin.

“Today’s was a special one, too. Don’t you remember?” He questions, icy eyes sliding from yours to the red-headed man still standing by the table, glimmering cruelly as he smirks.

Still, you nod your head, knowing Reek won’t answer. “To celebrate killing Jon Snow,” you breathe, gripping at the leather of his tunic, desperate to win even a scrap of approval.

Surprisingly, he grants it – fixing you with a proud little grin, like how an owner would look at a dog that’s just mastered a new trick. “That’s right,” his hand ruffles the hair on the top of your head, a gesture that should feel demeaning, yet it sends a tingle of pride through you instead, “Seems you can remember something after all.” He pulls away and traipses over to Reek, hands clasped behind his back.

“Surely you remember too, Reek? You were in the kennels that evening when the dogs had their treat, were you not?” He taunts, the playful inflection in his voice entirely for show, “Our little problem’s been dealt with and now we hold not only the Dreadfort but Winterfell as well! What do you think about that, hm?” Ramsay studies the other man carefully, eyes flitting over his face as he takes great pleasure in the subtle twitches of pain that still manage to flicker through the harsh conditioning he’d endured. Your eyes stay fixed firmly on the stone floor.

“A… A great victory, master!”

“Yes, a great victory, indeed,” he smiles, watching Reek for another moment before turning back to you. His smile morphs into a cold, callous frown that ties your stomach into knots, each of his steps making your heart hammer faster in your chest. “You know, it’s actually rather amusing,” he starts, bloodied fingers twirling a stray lock of your hair, “How my hounds seem to be continually more well trained than you, pretty little idiot.”

Pretty, pretty, pretty! Your heart thumps dumbly, a rabbit in a snare.

“I’ll do better!” You whimper, shaking your head frantically as your eyes meet his, “I can do better, really, I was just confu–”

The hand in your hair shoots down suddenly, yanking several strands with it as he clamps it around your neck. “Confused?” Ramsay murmurs, watching with rapt attention at how you struggle in his hold, lips quivering as the words die in your throat, “Really? I give you one task, I ask one thing of you, and you can’t even figure that out? You still disappoint me?”

He’s not expecting an answer, you know this, and yet you still try to give one as your mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water, only the faintest little whines managing to escape. You feel faint, both from his grip around your throat and from the myriad of emotions coursing through your veins – your heart twists at the thought of failing him, your stomach is in knots as various punishments flash through your mind, and yet your center still sparks, still sends little glimmers of arousal through you.

His grip loosens enough to allow you to suck in several shaky lungfuls of air as he snickers, endlessly amused at how eager you still are, how you still yearn so deeply for him. Again, he pats your head condescendingly, muttering little hushes as if you were a crying puppy. “Lucky for you, pet, I have plenty of experience training stubborn bitches,” Ramsay chuckles, blue eyes glimmering with mirth when he feels you swallow apprehensively, “I think we’ll have your behavior corrected in no time, won’t we? Even the stupidest of beasts can still learn a trick or two.”

Before you have time to react, the hand cradling the crown of your head harshly grabs at your hair again, tugging you suddenly toward the door. “Ah!” You yelp, stumbling as he all but drags you behind him, your hands shake as they struggle to grab onto his forearm, “Ramsay, pl–!”

“You should be grateful I am allowing you the kindness of walking!” He growls, sparing you a glance over his shoulder as he leads you through the Great Hall, “Pity I’m so protective of you, really, I’m sure it would be quite entertaining for my men to watch you crawl.” His drawled threat sends a spark of fear down your spine and you pant, chest heaving, as you shuffle behind him; your cheeks burn as several of his soldiers sitting at the long wooden tables catcall as you stagger past them.

Finally, the two of you reach your shared chambers, that fact sending a little torrent of satisfaction through you even now. Unceremoniously, Ramsay all but tosses you inside and you whimper as your hip collides with an edge of the decorative table just inside the door, no doubt hard enough to bruise but at least it breaks your fall.

“It’s quite unfortunate, normally find your impudence amusing,” he starts lowly, pressing the old wooden door closed with a thud before sliding the lock into place with a self-satisfied grin, “But I know you know better, don’t you, little one?” He asks as he stalks toward you.

Your breath catches in your throat as he stands before you, studying you silently for a second in the same calculated way he studies a deer through the sight of his bow. Not knowing what else to do, you silently nod your head as your eyes slip down to the floor, like a child being scolded.

“You’ve been with me the longest now,” he murmurs as if you don’t know, one bloodstained hand grabbing at your waist as the other fits around the back of your neck, once again forcing your eyes to his face, “We grew up together, you and I. You know my ways, my rules, isn’t that right?”

Again, you nod your head, bottom lip trembling with the want to explain yourself, although you know that would only make things worse.

“That’s what makes your disobedience so frustrating,” his blue eyes bore into yours as he speaks, his lip sticking out in a mocking pout, “Because you do know better and yet you’re stupid enough to act out anyway, hm?” His tone is sharper now, dangerous like the pointed tip of an arrow.

“I wasn’t acting out!” The words claw themselves out of your throat before you can stop them and instantly you know you’ve made a mistake, but now you’re desperate to remedy it, “I wasn’t, really! I j-just misunderstood you, that’s –”

Your pleas come to a screeching halt as his hand smacks across your face, the other grips at your jaw tightly, tight enough to make you whine softly in his grasp. Your eyes squeeze shut for a second, cheek stinging, before they open and lock with his again, wild and desperately.

I wasn’t being insolent! You scream silently, hoping he can somehow hear you, that maybe all of your years with him would’ve granted that ability, I would never! I was doing as you said, like always!

“I was wrong earlier, wasn’t I?” Ramsay mutters, so close to you that your foreheads nearly touch. Your eyes widen slightly at his words, heart thumping in a hopeful little staccato, though he wrenches that away quickly enough, “You’re not a dog at all, no, a dog would be obedient and docile.”

Your brows knit together with confusion at his words, biting so hard into your lower lip that you’re shocked you don’t taste blood. Although, you can’t help the surprised little gasp that leaves you when his hands begin quickly tugging at the laces of your bodice as your own remain in white-knuckled fists at your sides, the whole of you determined to stay still like a statue, a plaything.

“No, you my sweet little pet,” he growls sarcastically, low voice morphing into a pleased chuckle as he tugs your bodice off; the shirt below it quickly follows and a small part of you blooms with pride at the happy little sigh he lets out at the sight of your breasts.

“You’re just a dumb puppy, aren’t you?” He chuckles against your throat, nipping at your skin more so than kissing it, although you relish the feel of his lips on you all the same. “A dumb, defiant little puppy,” he continues, hastily pulling at the ties of your skirts and you whimper despite yourself when they finally fall to the floor, pooling at your feet, “That’s in desperate need of more training.”

He stops, pausing for a mere second, and pulls back just enough to look at you, no doubt gaining satisfaction from the desperation written so plainly on your face. There’s a hunger in his cold eyes – a predator silently deciding to go for the jugular, nocking an arrow on his bow.

You whine as he properly kisses at your throat now, his hands rough against your skin as he grabs at your hips. One skims higher to cup your breast, the unexpected gentleness of his touches causes you to shiver and whine in his grasp and into his mouth as he kisses you finally, his full lips moving steadily in time with yours.

Harsh pants leave your lips as your heart pumps madly in your chest, his touches always work you up so quickly. The thought of him still being fully clothed as he left you bare and vulnerable made you hotter still; the feel of his warm leather tunic against your exposed skin, of his bloodied hands against your supple skin, drives you mad.

Before you have time to second guess your movements, you begin blindly pulling at the strings on his leather tunic, desperate to feel him against you. Surprisingly, he lets you tug it off of him, granting you a last meal of sorts, and you can’t help but to smile into the kiss, gasping into his mouth as he unbuttons his jacket himself before quickly tossing it aside as well. He’s panting nearly as harshly as you are as the two of you part long enough for him to pull his shirt over his head, your hands immediately go to his chest the second it joins the ever-growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Your eyes flicker over him as the two of you pause, the knot in your belly growing tighter at the sight of his taut stomach and chest, the low, warm glow of the many candles dotted throughout your chambers accentuating each muscular dip. Your fingers shake as they trail over him and you feel a sick sense of pride twist in your stomach at the fact that, unlike so many men, his skin isn’t mottled with years of scars and bruises. No, his is flawless, a pale, unmarred, ruthless canvas – a flawless killer.

Of course, he can’t let you have this reprieve for long. A good trainer doesn’t spoil his pet.

A soft, broken gasp leaves you as one hand wraps around your neck again, slotting perfectly against your throat like a collar, as he walks you a few paces further into the room, closer to the small hearth by the bed. “Kneel,” his command leaves no room for anything but obedience; you swallow thickly, nervously, and do as he says, lips parting ever so slightly when your knees rest on plush bear skin instead of hard stone.

A kindness, even now.

Ramsay’s lips twist into a proud grin as you stare up at him, legs folded beneath you with your hands poised perfectly on your thighs, a familiar stance he’d taught you years ago. “Good girl,” he mutters, fingers threading gently through your hair as you moan softly.

“Thank y – Ah!”

“No,” he chides harshly, tugging your head back by the roots of your hair until your neck is bared to him, your back arched, “Puppies don’t talk, dumb little thing,” he growls, shifting more closely to you in order to gain a better hold on your hair, close enough that you whimper as your front is pressed firmly against the length of his leg, the thick fabric of his trousers rough against your skin as one of his feet slots between your thighs, “A well-trained pet certainly doesn’t.”

The knot in your belly seizes at his words, aided by the laces of his leather boots brushing oh-so gently against your center, the knotted fabric sticking against the wetness already leaking from your clenching cunt. You whine, high-pitched and frantic when he clutches your hair tighter still, his fist white knuckled against the crown of your head.

“A well-trained little pet would always obey their master, wouldn’t they?” You can’t miss the breathiness of his voice now, his tone lower and smoother than it normally is, and the sound makes your hips hump against his boot before you can stop yourself, your nipples stiff, nearly aching, as they rub against his trousers.

A low, rumbled laugh echoes through your chambers when your arms wrap around his leg, fingers digging desperately into the firm muscle of his thigh. “Aww,” he coos mockingly, licking his lips as he watches you, his attention making blood rush to the apples of your cheeks, “Is my pretty little puppy getting off on this? Does your cunt drip when I tell you how stupid and worthless you are?”

The sound of your blood pumping furiously through your veins thuds in your ears, Pretty, pretty pretty!

You whine as you try to eagerly nod your head, his hold on your hair preventing you from moving much, though your hips rut steadily against his boot now – pressing tightly against the worn fabric, the knots from his laces rubbing perfectly over the throbbing little pearl at your center.

“You look like you’re having fun,” he drawls, cold eyes shining as he studies you closely, chest heaving in time with yours as his cock hardens in his pants, “Are you having fun, little one?”

Again, you try to nod, keening brokenly as your eyes stay fixed on his. You pant harshly against his leg, breath fragmented as they’re punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter and tighter with each pass of your slick center over the laces of his boot.

He knows, of course. As soon as he ordered you to stay in the kitchens with Reek this morning, he knew – knew you’d follow his orders to the letter, even if they contradicted his previous ones. He knew he’d find you there, knew he’d punish you for it, knew exactly how he wanted to break you down so that it could be him who built you back up. He’s known you the longest, you’d grown up together. He knows, of course he does. He’s nothing if not a thorough hunter.

A loud, broken whine leaves you when he flexes his foot, pressing his boot harder against you still. You’re helpless to do much else aside from stare up at him, gasping, while your hips buck against him as quickly as your sore muscles will allow, your high barreling toward you at a breakneck pace.

All of that comes to a sudden, screeching halt though when he moves again, shifting his weight until his boot is just out of reach. The sudden lack of stimulation makes your back arch further still, your muscles taut like a drawn bow.

“Oh, poor little puppy,” he laughs, watching gleefully as you whine loudly, the peak that had been so close fading away, leaving you aching, “If you thought it was going to be that easy, you haven’t been paying attention.” He taunts, crouching until he’s eye-level with you, smirking as his movements cause his pull on your hair to become tighter, making you wince, though his hand thankfully releases its grasp once he settles.

“Mmm,” you mewl softly as he caresses your breasts again, jumping slightly when he thumbs over your nipple before softly pinching at it, giving the other one the same treatment. Your eyes flutter shut as you arch your back further still, pressing against the palm of his hand as he kneads at your chest, eager for any stimulation you can get.

“Myranda was never like this,” he says suddenly, his voice low, steady, calculated. He smiles cruelly when your eyes snap open at the sound of her name, the back of your throat tight as tears already blur your vision – just like he wanted. “No, Myranda always behaved perfectly, she always did exactly what I said.”

He leans forward suddenly, the side of his face pressed firmly against yours so that when he speaks, you’re sure to hear every syllable, to feel them punctuated against the skin of your neck. “She was perfect. I never had to punish her for the same thing twice, you know. Not like I do with you.”

You shudder as his lips press against your skin again, pressing eager kisses against the wet trail of tears running down your cheek. He admires the way your shoulders shake as you sob, the way the subtle movement makes your breasts bounce, the way your cheeks flush so prettily, how your eyes always shine so brightly with fresh tears in them.

Ramsay loves breaking you – adores the moment when his arrow is finally launched free from his bow, adores the moment he sees it pierce your little heart. He loves you, in his way.

Not that he’d tell you that.

He lets you sob for a moment longer, all the while pressing hot kisses against your cheeks, relishing the salty taste of your tears as the little droplets of blood still caked to his skin mar your pretty face, staining it with delicate streaks of red. His cock twitches at the sight, black pupils nearly drowning out the blue of his eyes – maybe one day he’d bring you hunting, what a sight you’d be covered in the bright blood of a fresh kill.

“Myranda never needed training, puppy, not in the way you do,” he nearly whispers, the corners of his lips twitching up into a small smile as he leans back enough to grab at your chin, tilting your face up to his, “That’s what made her so boring.”

“Huh?” You breathe, sobs stalling for a second as you process what he’d just said, your obvious surprise making him laugh lowly again.

“What? Does that shock you? That I found her boring?” He questions, eyebrow raised, “Why would perfection be interesting?”

Your eyes search his face as he shifts, kneeling rather than crouching. A little glimmer of pride sparks to life within you as he kisses you again, your lips moving against his frantically, mewling when he pushes his tongue into your mouth and nips at your bottom lip.

“I never got to train her,” he breathes against your lips, grunting at the way your hands skim over his chest and stomach, grabbing at him so frantically, “I hardly got to punish her; if I gave her an order, she would follow it blindly – it made her predictable, it made her boring.”

��N-Not like me?” You whisper hopefully, meeting his gaze through half-lidded eyes as you pant, your chest pressed tightly to his.

“No, sweet pet, not like you,” Ramsay smiles, making your heart sing as it leaps beneath your ribs, “I get to train you, don’t I? And punish you when that little puppy brain can’t follow the simplest of orders.”

You should be offended, should feel mocked and belittled, but you don’t. Instead, you nod your head eagerly, preening like a proud little bird at his praise, because that’s what is, really. Ramsay will never be one to sing your praises softly like other men, but he admires you all the same.

Before you have time to reply, he grabs at your waist and abruptly maneuvers you, manhandling you until you’re poised on your hands and knees, cheek pressed firmly against the fur rug beneath you.

“I get to play with you, pet,” he drawls lowly, pressing a hand into the small of your back and grunting appreciatively when you arch down like he wants, licking his lips as your cunt finally comes into view, shining already in the low candlelight. He smirks at the way you moan when he presses his hard length against you, grinding against your slit, chest heaving at how warm you are even through his trousers, “Don’t I?”

“Yes!” You nod eagerly, pressing back against him like a wanton whore, nearly dizzy with need when his fingers bump against you as he quickly undoes the laces on his pants, “Yes, yes, yes, please!”

“Ohh, so you can be good, hm?” He teases, groaning in relief when he pushes his trousers down just enough to free his cock, too impatient to remove them entirely, “Seems my training’s working nicely.”

Mindlessly, you nod, willing to agree with whatever he says so long as he gets inside you.

Mercifully, you don’t have to wait long. A loud cry fills your chambers as he presses into you, the slight sting of his thick cock stretching you open making you shiver, a familiar sensation since he was rarely ever patient enough to work you open on his fingers.

Immediately, he sets a brutal pace, his hips pressing against yours tightly each time he pushes forward, the head of his cock nearly kissing your cervix with each harsh thrust. Your cunt clenches at him greedily and your hands scramble against the rug beneath you, fingers tangling into the furs, desperate for something to anchor yourself.

“Fuck, tight little cunt,” Ramsay grunts harshly above you, his hands gripping meanly at your hips, hard enough to leave bruises.

“R-Ramsay, fuck… fuck,” you whimper beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut tightly as the knot in your belly threatens to unravel, your walls pulsing rhythmically around his length each time it spears into you.

He chuckles breathlessly at your little murmurs and runs a hand up the length of your back before grabbing at the hair at the nape of your neck, relishing the little cry you give as he pulls you up until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Are you close already?” He mocks smugly, his fingers untangling from your hair to wrap once more around your throat as his other paws at your breasts, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples.

You swallow thickly, throat bobbing under his grip, and nod your head the best you can, grabbing at his thick forearm.

“Do you think I’m going to let you?” He teases, biting harshly at your shoulder as his hips keep up a punishing rhythm.

You nearly sob at the question, so desperate, but still you shake your head, cunt pulsing around his length. “No, n-no…” You moan mournfully, voice hoarse from his hold.

He chuckles behind you, his chest rumbling against your back as he kisses and bites at your earlobe, your shoulder, any part of your neck not covered by his hand, each touch driving you mad. “Finally, that little brain seems to be working,” he grunts, laughing lowly as he abandons your breasts long enough to slap your cheek, blessedly soft this time, “I’m having too much fun playing with you to let you go that easily,” He drawls, chuckling once more when you whine.

“In fact,” he continues, reaching down and rubbing his fingers roughly against your aching bud, just enough to make you cry out before he suddenly pulls away again, tugging his length from you as he lets you flop to the floor with a little grunt, “I want to see you do a trick,” he whispers, rubbing over your ass before smack it roughly, making you jump, “Roll over.”

“Wha –” You start to question, only to be cut off with a loud cry as his hand spanks you once more.

“Be a good fucking puppy and roll over.”

His order leaves no room for questioning and obediently, you listen and roll over onto your back with a little whimper. You keep your legs bent up when you settle, keeping yourself on display for him, clenching around nothing as you eye his hard cock bobbing against his stomach, the tip red and leaking.

“Good little pet,” he praises, his words going straight to your pearl as you shudder. Hastily, he pushes your legs up further, one hand holding you open as he presses his cock back into you, savoring your loud whine, the way your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He resumes his harsh pace, slamming into you as he chases his high now, blue eyes trailing appreciatively over your trembling body, watching as your breasts bounce with each unforgiving thrust he gives.

“Please, please, Gods, please!” You whine frantically as he presses his hips against yours, grinding into you, the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your bud perfectly, “Ramsay, p-please! I – fuck!”

He laughs breathlessly at your cries and leans down when you arch your back toward him, mouthing savagely at your chest, teeth nipping at the fat of your breasts before he licks over your nipples. He knows each touch is only driving you closer and closer to your release, yet he still doesn’t give you permission, a part of him meanly hopes you’ll slip over anyway and give him another reason to punish you, like he actually needs a reason.

Still, you have been good today and he does love how willing and docile you become when you peak, so malleable – entirely submissive, entirely his.

He bites and kisses his way up along your chest and neck before licking into your mouth for a moment, eagerly swallowing each desperate little cry before grabbing at your neck once more. Greedy, he turns your head to him, needing to see that empty-headed, hazy look in your eyes when he lets you finish.

His cock jerks at the sight of you, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you try desperately to hold off, cheeks flushed, reddened lips parted. He grunts, feeling his balls tighten, his thrusts beginning to lose their rhythm.

“Cum, puppy,” he growls, forehead pressed against yours.

Your lips part in a silent curse as your high slams into you, each muscle in your body contracting at once. Your eyes bore into his wildly as your cunt spasms tightly around his cock, eyes rolling back as he fucks you through it.

“Fuck!” He grunts, growling lowly as his cock spasms within you, your walls all but milking his own high from him as well. His hips slam into you a few more times before he stills, gasping as he fills you with his spend.

The two of you lay together for a moment, panting loudly against one another. Ramsay is the first to move, shushing you as he pulls his softening length from you, making you whine.

Distantly, a part of you twists gleefully when you feel his seed drip from you, another thing he never dared do with her.

“Here,” he says softly, offering you a hand, which you gladly take, letting him help you stand since you doubt you’d be able to on your own. Finally, you stand on your feet, albeit unsteadily, and grab onto the foot of the carved wooden bedframe to steady yourself. Strangely, he stays with you, neither of you saying anything as he holds you, blue eyes studying you as they gleam with some unknown emotion.

After a moment, you try to pull away, meaning to leave as you always do, not one to wait around for his order anymore.

“Stop,” he murmurs, only pulling away once you still, “Stay.” He orders, an unfamiliar softness to his voice. Your head reels, eyes staring unfocused as you try to make sense of… whatever this is, whatever his game may be now.

He returns quickly enough, a damp cloth in his and from the small wash basin he keeps on the vanity. You reach out to grab it, to clean yourself off like you assume he wants, and yet he stops you, holding the cloth out of your grasp until you lower your hand again.

“Obedient puppies get rewards,” he says softly, all of the harshness from before absent from his tone as he answers your silent questions. You nearly freeze when he presses one small, gentle kiss against your forehead. Finally, he makes quick work of wiping between your legs, taking care to wipe away any of his spend that leaked from you.

“Thank you…” You nearly whisper, voice scratchy from his earlier treatment. That doesn’t feel like the right thing to say but if it isn’t, he doesn't say.

Silently, he cups your chin, lifting it enough to give him room to check your neck, trailing his hand over it lightly until he must be satisfied that you’re okay, that he hadn’t treated you too badly.

Kind, even still.

A few moments later, you recline in the plush bed, watching as he kicks off his boots before joining you, lying with you under the soft blankets. This part, at least, you’re used to – lying together like this but not touching, not cuddling, that’s too intimate, too close.

He hadn’t said that, wouldn’t say that, but you knew.

A surprised little gasp leaves you when he pulls you close, hands, clean now that he’d taken a moment to wash them, resting on you gently. One smoothes up and down your arm as he lets you lay against his chest, cheek pressed against his collarbone, his chin resting on your head; the other grabs at your thigh, pulling you to him until you’re tucked into his side, one leg propped over his hips.

“You did well,” he says softly, chest vibrating under your cheek as he speaks, “With your training, I mean. You did well. I’m… proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

The two of you are silent after that, neither of you knowing how to handle this new territory that you seem to be spilling into, but you don’t care, not with your heart pounding quickly in your chest. You’d think you were dying if it weren’t for the savage sense of victory threading through every inch of you.

Proud, proud, proud! The word echoes in your head with each pump of blood through your heart. It was so small, the barest of compliments, but from Ramsay it meant the world. It was something he’d said to you, only you, never to her, not once. Never to anyone else.

His chest rises and falls under your cheek, breath steady and even. He always falls asleep quickly, normally you do too. But not this time, not tonight, not wanting to let this moment fade just yet.

He loves you, in his way.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @iamawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstaarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino @targaryenbarbie @fan-goddess

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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gingernut1314 · 3 months

Text

Extra Special

A Songbird Story

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy wants to make this Valentine's Day special. Extra special for his extra special songbird.

Warnings: fluff, like the tiniest bit of angst, smut (p in v, biting)

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Sooo....I got this out a bit later than I wanted (like an hour late) so it's no longer valentines day...but let's all pretend I got this out in time 😂

This is a part of the Songbird series, though not part of the main storyline (if you want to add this extra little story into the main storyline, it could be read between part 8 and part 9). I hope you all enjoy!!! 🩷🩷🩷

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“SHIT!” The screaming voice of Buggy and the sound of shattering glass jolted you from your sleep like some alarm clock you hadn’t asked for. You started up, ripping the blankets off your body as you fought against your sleep-blurred eyes to find your captain in the dim light of his room. Panic at the thought of something having happened to him struck you hard and fast.

“NO!” Buggy shouted at you, a detached hand flying your way and shoving up back down in bed with a bounce.

“Hey! Buggy, what the hell happened--”

“Nothin’! Stay asleep!” Your concern turned to irritation as he continued to hold you down.

“I’m not going to stay asleep you jackass!” You huffed, grabbing for his hand to hold it in a way so you could sit up once more.

The door to Buggy’s chambers lay open, the light illuminating the hall filtering into his room and allowing you to see the predicament Buggy had gotten himself into.

He skillfully held a tray of food in his last remaining hand while his sea-glass eyes looked downward mournfully at the shattered mug and spilled tea on his floor. It was your mug, one you had picked up on the last island the Big Top had landed on.

“I-I’m--I broke your mug.” He said slowly, almost as if he was nervous about how you would react.

“Were you bringing me breakfast in bed?” You asked, completely glazing over the subject of your broken mug. Buggy’s mouth fell open as his eyes glanced towards the tray he still balanced.

“Uh--yeah.” You kissed the bit of exposed wrist of the detached hand still in your grip before letting it fly back to his body, a smile pulling to your lips.

“Then what are you waiting for? Come here.” You said patting the empty space next to you. Buggy looked to the spill, then back to you, and then back to the spill once more. “It’s just a mug, baby. I can get a new one.” Those eyes found you once more, his mouth opening and closing like some fish out of water. You sighed, patting the bed a bit more aggressively.

“We’ll clean up later. My stomach is eating itself I’m so hungry.” Buggy rolled his eyes at you dramatically, closing the door before starting for you.

“Now that’s a bit dramatic, don’t ya think, songbird?” You scoffed at him and his silly little grin which was growing wider and wider the closer he got to you.

“Dramatic? I’m dramatic? I’m not the one who was about to cry over--” A gloved hand came up to cover your face, shoving you not so gently back onto your pillow.

“Scoot over, yeah?” The bed dipped as you swatted Buggy’s hand away from your face, shooting him a daggered glare that he merely winked back at.

“Asshole.” You huffed, sitting back up as Buggy passed over you to his side of the bed.

“Yes, but you like this asshole.” A detached hand came around to bop you on the nose as he flopped down next to you.

“Yeah, yeah.” You huffed, watching as he extended the tray of breakfast foods out to you.

“You’re favorites of course.” Your playful annoyance was quickly replaced with that giddy feeling in your chest you still weren’t used to feeling. A feeling that was warm and pressing dangerously against the seams of your heart at Buggy’s thoughtful kindness. You took the tray, placing it in your lap as you smiled gratefully up at your captain.

“And--” He said, a detached hand flying into the bathroom only to come back out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. They were in the colors of yellow and white and sat in a red and white striped popcorn container. You realized the flowers were supposed to mimic the food typically within such a container.

You’re mouth hung wide open as Buggy handed you the flowers, his grin turning all too goofy. A smile that was even more stunning than any flower you could ever receive.

“Thank you, baby. What did I do to deserve all this today?” You asked, bringing the flowers to your nose to smell their sweet scent.

Shit--they even smelled like popcorn. How’d he do that?

“Cause today’s Valentine's Day, duh.” You blinked up at him. Blinked once, twice--

“Valentine’s Day? I don’t understand.” Buggy’s eyes all but fell out of their sockets in shock.

“What? You don’t know what Valentine's Day is?” You shook your head and Buggy continued to gap at you. “It’s only one of the biggest holidays they celebrate in the East Blue.” You shrugged at him, leaning over to place the flowers on the nightstand next to you.

“I grew up under a rock, remember? My dad didn’t care about shit like holidays.” You said, looking over the assortment of food on the tray in your lap. You went for the fruit first, popping one in your mouth as Buggy gave a huff of annoyed air.

“The more I learn ‘bout your daddy the more I dislike him.” You shrugged, moving so you could hook your feet over Buggy’s lap, bringing the warmth of his body flush against yours. His hand was quick to find purchase on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze as you raised a bit of fruit to his lips.

“Tell me about it?” You asked, Buggy taking the fruit from your fingers. The brush of his painted lips made your skin tingle and burn and wish to feel over them.

“Well--ya know. It's just a day you spend with the people you care about.” He said between chews. “Do nice things for ‘em. Treat ‘em extra special.”

You tried to play it off cooly by taking a bite from some of the other foods on the tray, but you were anything but cool. Your heart was beating against your rips in a near-painful manner. That giddy feeling rolling around in your chest so fast it made your heart ache with its wildness.

He cared about you. He was telling with his words that he cared about you.

“Oh? And--I’m getting treated extra special?” You asked, raising a fork full of food for Buggy to take. He did and gave your thigh another squeeze.

“No, I’m gonna treat Cabaji to a good time. I’m gonna go snuggle up in bed with him while I feed him breakfast.” You rolled your eyes at Buggy’s tease, taking another bite of your food.

“But you’re not feeding me breakfast. I’m feeding you.” You said, bringing another fork full of food for him to eat. He took it with an audible chomping sound.

“Hand over the fork then, smartass.” You smirked, keeping the fork far away from him.

“I thought you were supposed to be nice to me today.” Buggy was quick to snatch the fork from your hand, his other hand moving from your thigh to pinch at your side in a way that had you yelping and squirming to get away. The tray of food Buggy had so kindly brought to you almost found its way onto the floor to join your mug had Buggy not sent a detached booted foot to nudge it back into place.

“I am being nice. See how nice I’m being.” He insisted, skewering a piece of fruit onto the fork and choo-choo training it towards you. You mocked irritation once more at his antics but ate the fruit with a chuckle.

“I’ll forgive you if you say sorry.” You said after swallowing. Buggy gave a chuckle of his own as he grabbed your cheeks in a squishing hold, pulling you closer and closer until his lips crashed into yours.

His grip loosened, giving your lips the freedom to move in tandem with his. To taste the spices within your breakfast and the sweetness of the fruit.

Buggy pulled away all too soon and you chased after his lips, needing that little buzz of happiness kissing him gave rise in you.

“I’m sorry.” He said against your lips, which claimed yours once more.

“Humm…I don’t know if I forgive you.” Buggy gave a rumbling growl that shook through your chest, burning at your skin.

“Oh yeah? Do I need to beg for your forgiveness?” You smirked, running your fingers over his exposed arm, feeling over the smooth skin and the course blue hair that lay there.

“Begging is a very good start.” He gave that little whimper you loved oh so much to hear. One that had you grabbing him closer, the tray of food forgotten fully as he grabbed you right back.

And just as Buggy had opened his mouth to start to beg, sweet sounds your body begged itself to hear, a knock sounded at his door. One that had anger spiking in Buggy so sharp and fast he was ripping himself off of you and hurling himself from bed, leaving you a drunk kissed mess.

“WHAT DID I TELL YOU IDIOTS?” Buggy shouted as you fought to calm yourself back down.

As he screeched and howled at whoever had interrupted his alone time, you went about picking up the bits of food that had fallen in your hast to get your captain closer.

You ate the rest of your breakfast as you pulled yourself from bed, yanking on a pair of Buggy’s pj bottoms which lay scattered over the floor as you went about tidying up the red sheets, as well as picking up the mess that was your shattered mug.

As you did this, you caught bits and pieces of Buggy’s conversation with, who after a quick peek through the crack in the door Buggy had left, found Mohji standing there looking very, very stressed.

“There is a tax to dock, captain.”

“Then don’t dock. Go around the island.”

“We-we did sir. There are docks all around the island and the beaches are very populated--guards posted on each.” You threw the mug away as Buggy fumed at these words.

“And the next nearest island?”

“A day’s journey, captain.” Buggy cursed. And cursed and cursed some more.

“Fine! Pay the godsdamned tax.” Mohji left with a quick yes, captain and an apology before his footsteps rushed off. Buggy came back in looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel. It was a look that only deepened when he found you were finishing up cleaning the spilled tea. “What are you--”

“You never pay a tax. We should just go to the next island.” Buggy huffed, slamming the door shut behind him.

“We can’t just “go to the next island” ‘cause today is Valentine's Day. Not tomorrow. And this island has the best beaches for miles.” You blinked at him slowly--beaches. You loved beaches. Loved the sun on your skin and the sand between your toes. It was a fact Buggy knew of you. A love he had learned of during both of your time on the Going Merry.

“Are you--are you taking me to the beach?” You asked calmly, trying to not get your hopes up. Buggy huffed away, trying to settle his raging emotions as he snagged a small, light blue bag from under his vanity.

“Take a look.” He said, pulling a smile to his face that seemed to help him calm down greatly.

Fake it until you make it was the philosophy you believed Buggy went with to get through life. It was a pretty good philosophy--one you might even pick up living by.

You took the bag from Buggy’s hand, pulling the red tissue paper out to find a few pieces of folded, polyester outfits within.

The first you pulled out was a pair of blue, yellow, and red diamond-patterned swim trunks. Trunks that were definitely meant for Buggy who was now genuinely grinning again as he watched you open the gift.

The next thing you pulled out was a matching bikini. It was tasteful, but still cut in a fashion you knew Buggy was eager to see you in. In other words, small but covered the important bits pretty well.

The suits were bright and flashy and so Buggy. You loved it.

“Wha’d ya-” You didn’t let him finish his question before you were attacking him in a hug and in smacking kisses to both his cheeks.

“I love it! Thank you, baby.” Buggy grabbed hold of your hips, finding your lips for a kiss.

“How ‘bout you get ready and I’ll make sure everything’s in order with this shitty tax, hum?” You nodded, kissing him again quickly before rushing off to the bathroom.

The beach was crowded, just as you had heard Mohji tell Buggy, but you and your captain found a space a little ways away from everyone. And, as an added bonus, it was far enough away from the water that Buggy’s nerves were put at ease.

You dug your toes into the sand as you watched Buggy set up camp, pulling beach chairs open and laying a blanket down before your chairs. He placed a picnic basket down on top of it, one he had surprised you with on the way here. Buggy even put up an umbrella, though that was mainly for him.

And he did this all in just his flashy swim trunks.

The sun was no help in the growing heat in your body.

No help as you watched the muscles throughout his arms and legs work. No help as you watched his blue hair, which he had put up in a flowy ponytail, fall over his shoulders, leading the eyes to his chest. A chest covered in a dusting of blue hair that you had run your fingers through many, many times before and wished to do now.

It had you almost wishing to take Buggy by the hand and drag him all the way back to the Big Top just so you could see those muscles work to pull those swim trunks off. So you could see the delicate skin that lay hidden beneath and run your tongue--

“Tah dah!” Buggy exclaimed, a pound smile on his face as he gestured towards the set up.

“Good job, baby.” You praised, swallowing down the sudden dryness in your mouth. Buggy beamed like one of the rays of sunlight shining down on you two under your praise.

“You gonna take that cover off? Let me see how good you look in that bikini?” You nodded, placing your beach bag into one of the chairs before yanking your cover-up--which was just one of Buggy’s old t-shirts--over your head.

Buggy gave a low curse as you showed off your new swimsuit--you moving your body in a way that put it on full display for him.

“You like?” You asked as you watched Buggy’s tongue shoot out to wet his lips.

“Do a little twirl for me.” You did so without question, moving your hips in a sultry rotation that earned you a low groan from your captain. “Shit, songbird--maybe we should call it quits? Head back to the ship.” You smirked as you faced him once more.

“Humm we could…but no. I want to get some sun.” You said, the clown all but whining in displeasure. “You were the one who chose this bikini. You only have yourself to blame.” Buggy dramatically pouted.

“Let me at least put lotion on ya. Don’t want you to burn.” You shrugged dismissively.

“I don’t burn.” Buggy’s hands flexed at your continued denial to let him touch you.

“I do.” You scanned over his body slowly, making the clown all but squirm under your gaze.

“Would you like me to put lotion on you?” He nodded frantically, sending a detached hand for the lotion in your bag. He all but shoved it in your hands before sitting down on the blanket before you.

You knelt down behind him, putting a dollop of lotion on your hand. You moved his hair over his shoulder before beginning to rub the lotion in, your captain humming and leaning back to be closer to your touch.

You took your time rubbing it into his skin, tracing shapes into his skin, and digging your fingers into the tenser bits of muscle you came across. The whole time Buggy was a huming, groaning mess and it was making your body utterly ache to have him hum and groan in other such pleasurable ways.

Once every last bit of skin was covered, you moved around to sit before him, his eyes dazed and struggling to focus. Eyes that scanned over your body, which he began to reach for.

“Uh-ah. No touching.” Buggy huffed, those green-blue eyes snapping to look into your own.

“Why not?”

“Because I only get to touch.” This earned you another, rumbling groan, and those eyes lulling closed. You watched him shift, his trunks seeming to grow just a bit tighter around his crotch. You smirked at his flushed state.

“Let’s go back to the ship.” He asked on a whisper, as if your answer might change. You put another dollop of lotion onto your hand and began to rub it into his shoulder, chest, and abdomen.

“Later, baby. You went through all the trouble to get these swimsuits, make us lunch, and pay that tax.” You said, his sea-glass eyes opening to watch you near mournfully. With a chuckle, you leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on his painted lips. A kiss he savored and whined when it ended. “Thank you. You’ve made me feel extra special today.”

A small smile pulled to Buggy’s lips, that warm emotion flashing through his eyes. A look you thrived under whenever he graced you with it.

“Of course, songbird. Speakin’ of extra special, I have another gift for ya.” He said, sending both of his chopped hands towards the basket.

“Another one? Buggy, baby, that’s too much--” Buggy shushed you with a quick kiss. He pulled away as his hands reattached to his body, the box he had grabbed thrust into your hands.

“Nothin’s too much for my songbird. Now open it.” He said excitedly. You sighed, your own excitement dancing around in your chest.

You tugged at the box’s flaps, freeing them from the colorful tape holding them closed. A small gasp left you as you pulled one of the gifts out.

It was a notebook. A beautifully elegant notebook that, in looping letters, said Songbird’s Songbook #1.

And there were more notebooks within the box. Books of different colors and designs but had the same title drawn on the cover. Each was labeled with a number as well.

You felt your eyes prick and you fought to keep from making a fool of yourself in front of Buggy.

“I-Buggy…” You said in a small voice, looking back towards the man you cared for so, so much. A man who had changed your life for the better--who had pulled you from such a dark, dark place.

Guilt panged in your chest. A guilt that rose your anxiety and had you tapping your fingers against the hardcover of the songbook.

“I didn’t get you anything. You should have told me you were doing all this. How--this is--baby, I want to get you something too. Something as thoughtful and beautiful as this. I--” Buggy cut you off with a soft, comforting cradle of your face between his ungloved hands.

“Baby, you’re gift enough for me.” You huffed, feeling those tears begin to pool in your eyes. “I don’t need anything but you. Don’t worry. Please don’t worry.” But you couldn’t not worry. Because you were worried every day that you wouldn’t be good enough. That he would find some reason to toss you away--to abandon you.

“Hey--if you really want to give me something, you could sing for me.” You blinked a few times to clear the tears stinging your eyes on a nod. “Ya? Okay--hey, stop that.” He chuckled, running his thumb under your eye to try and comfort you further. “A song and your company would be a perfect gift.” You nodded again, clearing your throat from its tightness.

“What--what would you like me to sing?” You asked, leaning your cheek further into his palm.

“How ‘bout that song you’ve been workin’ on?”

“It’s not finished.” He nodded, his smile pulling wider.

“I know. But it’s still my favorite.” You smiled, that giddy, warm feeling filling your chest like a flash of lightning. With a quick kiss to his lips, you two laid out on the blanket, facing one another as you began to sing your song softly.

Buggy watched you like you were the most interesting thing in the whole world. Watched you with that warm look in his eyes and an easy smile on his lips. His hand found its way to feel over your side, running his fingers up and down your skin.

You sang your song of lonely and restless need. Of freedom and the sea and of a feeling for someone so strong it could drive them mad.

When you finished your unfinished song, which you had added just that much more to since the last time you had sung it to him, Buggy pulled you in for another soft, lingering kiss that had your heart soar like some dove.

You almost grabbed him back into you when he pulled away but thought better of it--there would be plenty of time to hold and caress each other after this little beach trip.

Buggy went about presenting you with lunch then in a flashy manner. The lunch was simple but perfectly catered for a beach day.

After lunch, you two sat in your beach chairs. You soaking up the sun and Buggy sitting in the shade of his umbrella, hand in hand.

Once you had had your fill of sun and sand and the sound of crashing waves, you helped Buggy pack everything up before heading for the Big Top.

The ship was as quiet as the grave, the rest of the crew out enjoying the beautiful day and exploring the island you had paid to stay on.

“I don’t get mad,” Buggy started, pulling you towards the circus tent that stood proudly close to the bow of the ship. “But I might have one more gift for ya.” You smiled and squeezed his hand a little tighter.

“Then I owe you one more song.” Buggy squeezed your hand right back with a nod.

“I would love that, songbird.” He led you to the entrance, placing all of your beach gear on the deck before turning you around and covering your eyes with his hands. “No peaking.” He whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You held onto his hands as he led you into the circus tent, your steps a little stiff from your momentary blindness. Buggy positioned you and turned you just a little bit this way and that before you felt his breath on your ear again.

“Okay…ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.�� Buggy chuckled before removing his hands from your eyes.

You gasped at the sight before you. A wonderful scene, one with a candlelit dinner table, a meal still steaming and ready to eat. You gathered it must have just been laid out, meaning one of your crewmates was making a mad dash for the exit.

Flowers covered the surrounding area, filling the space with their forally sweet smells. Music played softly in the background as well. Songs from your favorite artists and inspiration since childhood.

But on top of the dinner and the candles and the music, sitting in the middle of the circus ring was a shining, sleek piano. Another one of those songbooks lay on the music stand, a single rose pressed between its pages.

“I’ll have it moved to one of the backrooms so you can have a little more privacy to practice and create your music. I know you’ve been needing a piano so--” You snapped around and attacked Buggy in a tearful kiss before he could finish.

Your captain was quick to wrap you up in his arms, pulling you flush against his warm body. Your lips moved in perfect synchrony. In a sweet, tearful kiss that gradually grew more needy. More wanting and fiery.

You pulled away, littering kisses over his cheeks and jaw and neck, your hands sliding their way downward. Fingers pulled at his bright swim trunks and you were just about to follow your hands downward when Buggy stopped your descent. You whined but it was silenced by his burning kiss.

“Nah-uh. Want to make you feel good.”

“But--” A voice stealing kiss found you again, Buggy’s body moving you backward until you ran into the piano he had just gifted you.

His feeling hands found the strings to your bikini and loosened the top so that the triangle-shaped fabric fell away from your breasts, hanging loosely around your waist. Those stunning eyes of his darkened in lust at the sight of you, his tongue coming out to wet his lips in something akin to hunger.

Your fingers were gripping the back of his neck and guiding him towards your pebbled nipples, Buggy readily following your lead. His teeth grazed over the sensitive heft of your left breast, making a low moan pour from your chest. A low thing that turned mewling when his lips encased your nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue over its peek.

You held him closer, your body giving out onto the keys of the piano, making the instrument give a screeching ring that echoed throughout the circus tent.

Buggy’s strong arms grabbed you around your thighs and shoved you up onto those keys, abusing the poor, elegant instrument once more with your weight.

You would have been worried about breaking such a beautiful gift had a pleasure-filled fog not begun to roll through your mind, blocking out any sense or reason.

He removed his mouth with a pop from your breast only to latch it around your untouched and lonely left breast. Your fingers scraped over the back of his neck, pulling low moans of his own from his throat, the vibrations of it buzzing at your body and adding to the growing wetness between your legs.

Buggy’s hands grabbed for the bottom of your bikini, yanking them off with help from his chop-chop abilities to fully do so without pulling away from you.

He switched breasts again, biting lightly at your flesh and making you squirm in his hold at the flashes of pleasure that pulsed through you.

You spread your legs further, giving Buggy full access to your weeping pussy. It wanted his touch--needed it and you were beginning to grow desperate.

A chopped hand crawled its way down your stomach, finding its home on top of the mound of your pelvis.

“I should make you beg for it, ya know.” He murmured around your breast, flicking his tongue over your nipple and pulling a needy little whine from you. “For teasing me at the beach.”

“Y-your fault. You--” You sucked in a shuttering breath as he dipped a finger into your dripping folds. A finger that rounded your cilt but never once dared to touch it, sending you just enough pleasure but never enough to scratch the deep itch that had been building within your body all day. “You bought the damn bathing suit.”

Buggy chuckled, pulling away from your nipple to lick a wet trail up the valley of your breasts, sinking his teeth into your neck. A pinch of pain that only melded and mixed with that dulled buzz he had lifting in you.

“I wanted to match. So fuckin’ sexy.” And his finger finally moved to land on your clit, rubbing circles into it and sending your body radiating in ecstasy.

“Oh--oh gods--yes--thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You rambled into his hair, holding his face that much closer to your neck, which he continued to bite and suck a deep bruise into. “I-I love this fucking suit--oh my gods!”

Your hips began to move on their own accord, rocking against his finger and his cock, which had tented his trunks in his own arousal.

More, more, more.

You need more of him. All of him.

With these foggy thoughts in mind, you reached your hand down to tug his suit as low as you could. It was an action that only exposed more of that happy blue trail which led to your real goal, still hidden breath those bright trunks.

“C-Captain--Captian, please, please, please! I-I need you in me please!” You begged, continuing to pull at the band of his trunks to spur him on.

“F-Fuck--yeah, baby. Anythin’ ya need.” He grit out pulling away just enough to shove his swimsuit down, letting his cock spring free from its restraint. He hissed at the sudden exposure to the chiller air, his tip already leaking milky pearls of precome.

You grabbed for him, running your thumb over his slit and spreading it around the mushroomed head of him. Your mouth fell open on a needy pant as he thrust mindlessly into her hand, bringing his cock that much closer to your sobbing pussy.

Digging the heels of your feet into that perk little ass of his, you dragged him closer and closer until he was pressed oh so nicely against your entrance.

It took only took one thrust and your guiding hand to have him sinking inch by glorious inch into your aching pussy. Your walls flexed and relaxed around him, sucking him deeper and deeper into you.

“Oh fuck.” Buggy cursed in your ear as he bottomed out, his last unchopped hand coming up to grab a fistful of your breast. You nibbled at that pierced ear, humming your growing satisfaction for him.

“M-move, baby. S-so good for me.” You breathed, raking your fingernails up and down his back, sending shivers through your captain’s body.

“Yes--fuck, yes, songbird.” He said on a whimper, his hips pulling him all the way out all the way to his reddened tip, only to sharply thrust back into you. You gave a deep moan of his name, hanging onto him for deep life.

Each thrust sent low humming through your body. Humming that grew louder and louder and louder until it was all you could hear.

Each bite and suck at your neck spread sparks along your skin like the start of some wildfire.

Each circle and flick of your cilt ignited and deepened that built within the depths of your abdomen.

Buggy chuckled against your skin, his thrusts never once faltering in their steady, pleasure-pulling pace.

“Wh-what?” You panted, grabbing hold of his chin to look into those sea-glass eyes. Eyes a swirl of blown-out lust and mirth.

“J-just--heh--this wasn’t what I had in mind when I said--m-makin’ music.” He huffingly laughed, a rather brutal thrust pulling a deep moan from your chest. A thrust that pushed your body harder into the keys beneath you, the piano letting out a horrid sound at the sudden movement.

“I-It’ll be inspiration.” You wavered, moving his lips against yours in a sloppy dance of tongues and spit.

That deep build rolled around within you. Rolled and spurred your hips to move that much faster against Buggy’s. The added pressure of his pelvic bone slamming against his finger, which pushed against your clit that much harder had that white buzz spread through your thighs, into your hips, and then to rush wildly down through your core.

Buggy pulled from your kiss, free hand shooting up to hold your neck in a loose hold so that he could watch your brows furrow and mouth hang open in a gasping call of his name as you came. Your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, pulling your name and nicknames alike from Buggy’s panted lips.

He pushed fully into you, nose brushing against yours as hot ribbons of come shot into your constricting pussy in spurts.

Buggy whimpered, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His body fell slump against yours, only held up by your legs around his waist and your arms around his waist. You held him tight, pressing your forehead into the side of his head, breathing in his scent with each heaving pull of air into your lungs.

“I think--I think we broke the piano.” You panted with a chuckle, kissing his shoulder. Buggy groaned, his body finding strength enough to hold you back just as tight.

“Whatever--I’ll steal you another one. I’ll steal so many pianos you won’t know what to do with them all.” You kissed his shoulder once more, a large, goofy grin pulling to your lips. One that, just like that warm feeling in your chest, you couldn’t help.

“Thank you. Today was very extra special.”

Original Requester for main Songbird series: @srgtjamesbarnes

Tag List: @lostfirefly , @fanaticsnail , @empressofmankind , @synoname-wordsmith , @cefni , @solarrexplosion , @luvrsbian , @misadventures0fdes , @fanshavegottensotoxic , @wasabiprophet , @ane5e , @friedtacokitty

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tempvstas · 6 months

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Good Things Come To Those Who Wait

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Content Warning(s): some angst, leona being emo lol

Character(s): GN!Reader(no pronouns mentioned), Leona Kingscholar

Authors Notes: Hello all, I am not dead, just busy :] Life update, started uni so I've been busy with that, also, bit off more than I could chew so I burned out HARD. Genuinely lost motivation to write. But I do want to get back into the flow of writing. I'll try and fulfill requests(esp the ones sitting in my inbox, sorry to everyone who sent me requests before im not ignoring you i swear 💀) when I can but theres no guarantee. I wanna write what I can and what I want to and atm its Leona :]]. Please enjoy LMAO

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Leona couldn't remember the last time he had felt the warmth of another.

Moonlight filters through the open balcony of his room, a gentle breeze causing the curtains to sway slightly. He can feel your hands curled around his waist, his tail wrapped around your leg respectively. He stares at you, watching your chest rise and fall slowly, your soft snores seemingly filling up the room.

Silly Herbivore. He muses, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. You're so vulnerable, nestled against his chest. Wholeheartedly clinging onto him as if you were afraid he'd disappear. As he stares at you, he can't help the slight bitterness that wells up in his throat.

Why did you choose him out of everyone? Out of pity? He's never been good enough. The elders and servants back home made that quite obvious enough. He almost laughs out loud at the thought. He would never be good enough, would never be anyone's first choice, and would never put in enough effort because he was just too damn lazy.

A worthless, selfish, arrogant, too prideful for his own good, lazy, a good-for-nothing second prince who will never amount to anything.

Does he even deserve you?

Your slight movements startle him out of his thoughts as he stares down at you, blinking up at him with bleary eyes.

"Leona?" You mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Can't sleep? That's unusual," you tease him, shooting him a sleepy grin. Unwittingly, Leona feels the edges of his lips quirk up, "I was planning on it, until you started squirming around," he huffed. You study his face, a frown marring your features. Leona pokes your brow where it's creased, chuckling slightly, "Don't do that, your face will get stuck like that." You scowl at him, "I'm not a kid," you grumble, "Besides you have that look on your face and I'm worried about you."

Leona stares at you, an eyebrow raised, "Mind elaborating on what 'that look' means." You sit up so that you're face to face with him. "You know, that look! When you get all broody and emo, and all 'oh my sevens im so angsty grr'. That look." Leona wrinkles his nose at your wording, "Very funny Herbivore." You continue to stare at him, concern causes your brow to crease even more.

"Leona, what's wrong? I can tell something's up with you. I know you don't like opening up, and that's fine, but you know I'm here for you, right?" You reach over, taking his hand in yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. Leona's breath hitches in his throat for a second, he finds himself shutting his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, he finds your gaze trained on his.

Not looking away from him, holding his gaze unwaveringly. Genuine sincerity in your eyes.

"Leona." His ears twitch at the sound of his name being called. Your voice is firm, to get his attention, but soft enough that he doesn't feel the urge to flinch away. He sighs, feeling that you wouldn't let this matter go easily.

"I know you are. If you want the truth, no I'm not fine." Leona grimaces, this feeling of opening himself up was foreign to him. "I'm far from fine. I'm just.....what did I do to deserve you?" His voice breaks a little at the last part, but he continues. "I'm worthless, selfish, arrogant, too prideful for my own good, lazy, a good-for-nothing second prince who will never amount to anything. Compared to Farena or that damned lizard Malleus, I'm nothing. I have nothing. I will never be anything more because I will always be overshadowed by people like them." He takes a second to collect his thoughts before continuing. "I've always had to work hard to earn my keep only for everything to crumble like sand. All my hard work amounting to nothing because someone just so happens to be lucky enough to just be better." His ears flatten against his head out of irritation.

You listen to his words, staying silent. You give him a moment to catch his breath before hesitantly reaching over, pressing a hand to his cheek. Leona flinches, but then leans into your touch after a brief second. "Hey...look at me," you nudge his face so that he's staring at you.

"Look, I will admit you can be selfish, hell sometimes kind of a dick. You irritate me and sometimes I want to strangle you cause you won't let me get to class on time because you won't get off me." You pause, before continuing, "But you are not worthless. And you're not a good-for-nothing second prince. I love you, faults and all. You, Leona Kingscholar, are the best damn thing that has ever happened to me okay? I would go to hell and back for your stinky ass." Leona laughs softly at your nickname for him, leaning more into your hand. "You are worthy. I didn't choose to love you because I felt pity for you, I love you because of who you are. You say that all your hard work crumbles to sand? I've seen you pick yourself back up again. You're passionate about what you're interested in, and even if you won't outwardly say it, I know you care. You're not a saint by any means, far from it. But that's what I love about you. You're flawed and imperfect, and I say that's better than some perfect curated image of who you're supposed to be." You poke his chest to emphasize your point.

"So don't you ever question why I love you okay?" Your thumb brushes over the scar over his left eye, pressing a soft kiss to his eyelid. His eyelashes tickle your face as you do so. "I love you, scars and all. And I'll say it as many times as I need to."

Leona stares at you, a mix of emotions in his gaze. He clears his throat, his tail tugging you closer to him. "Fuck...that was hot," he smirks, leaning in, his nose brushing against yours. "Seriously? I give you this long speech and thats what you have to say?" You roll your eyes playfully, smacking his shoulder lightly. Leona's laughter rumbles in his throat as a hand gently holds onto the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. Despite his rough exterior, his kisses are gentle, his lips molding against yours. His other hand finds its way to your waist, holding you in place as you straddle his hips.

The two of you part for air, small gasps can be heard between you. You wrap your arms around his neck as you settle next to him, head nestled in his neck. Leona adjusts his position into a more comfortable one, his chin resting against the top of your head. The two of you lay in silence, the only audible sound being the occasional breeze that ruffles the curtains. Slowly you find yourself falling into the embrace of sleep.

"Herbivore?" You hear his voice above you. "Mhmm?" you mumble sleepily, feeling your eyes drooping.

"....I love you." You smile, hearing his words, before drifting off.

Ensuring that you're asleep, Leona leans over, kissing your forehead, watching your sleeping face. "....Thank you for being in my life.....and for not giving up on me," he whispers, before settling against you and drifting off himself.

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#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #ashers writing #twisted wonderland imagines #twst x reader #disney twst #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar x you #YALL DONT UNDERSTAND THE CHOKEHOLD THIS MAN HAS ON ME #I LOVE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH #IF HE WAS A CHEW TOY I WOULD THROW HIM AROUND(affectionate)#GRRR CURSE YOU LEONA KINGSCHOLAR #anyways im not dead guys hello #im so normal about him

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wooataes · 8 months

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Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Five)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: angst, Hanahaki AU, swearing, tooth rotting fluff, Jihoon is a tsundere and his emotions are all over the place, tears, mentions of bleach (for hair dye)

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: Thank you all for the ongoing love for my story! I cant thank you all enough for wanting more 🫶🏼 a special thanks to my gals Zan and Jess for helping me pretty much plan the whole story with me and wanting more always 🩷

-Tae💜✨🥰

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Jihoon stirs with a low groan, his eyes fluttering open as he blindly reaches for his phone. He winces at the bright screen displaying ‘03:12’ at him, the sounds of seven of his ten friends (plus his unwanted soulmate) sleeping around him.

He rubs at his eyes as he spots 3 unread messages, a small smile lining his lips as he skims over them.

Ji-ah 🖤: I’m sorry again I couldn’t be there with you, baby. 💕 I hope you’re having a good time!

Ji-ah 🖤 sent a photo

Ji-ah 🖤: guess what!! Unnie asked me to be her Maid of Honor! 😍

Jihoon smiles at the photo his girlfriend sent; an invitation from Ji-ah’s older sister officially asking her to be the Maid of Honor for her upcoming wedding, including a singular red rose and a pretty bracelet.

Jihoon truly didn’t mind how much time Ji-ah spent with her family. Almost every weekend she would travel to spend it with them, and he knew this. He sometimes would join her, but unlike his girlfriend, he enjoyed using his personal time to recharge from being social all week. Being an only child, for Jihoon, works out perfectly for his personality. He spends his time with his friends and girlfriend during the week, and his weekends usually recovering and recharging his social battery. Of course, Ji-ah and his friends were the exception, a small fondness having built up in his heart for his little circle of friends. He didn’t really know the close bond of a sibling, but doesn’t ignore the fact it must be like no other, considering how close Ji-ah is with her siblings, and how close you are with Seungcheol.

He reaches up to quickly type an excited congratulations for his girlfriend, with a ‘miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to see you’ thrown in. He doesn’t know why, but typing that out with his soulmate so close makes him feel a little bit sick.

Three different sets of voices can be heard from the kitchen, the only source of the light in the house filtering into the living room where the guests slept for the night. It catches Jihoon’s attention as he starts to focus on the conversation.

“Y/N.” His best friend’s voice is soft but can be easily heard from Jihoon’s position in the living room, your name piquing his interest.

“Yes, Soonyoung.” You reply back in a monotone voice. Jihoon’s eyes wander around the sleeping bodies to spot Soonyoung’s soulmate curled up on a mattress, arm draped over a pillow to suffice for his cuddle buddy not being there.

“I know you’ve said it before…” he sounds serious, and you heave a heavy sigh. “But… would you love me if I turned into a worm?”

Jihoon scoffs quietly, shaking his head at the silly question. Of course Soonyoung would ask that.

“Oh yes,” You reply back enthusiastically. “I would make up a little enclosure for you, and make sure you get enough sunlight to grow big and strong.”

“Really?” Soonyoung sounds excited.

“No.” You deadpan, resulting in a loud gasp of betrayal from Soonyoung, and a loud giggle erupting from the third voice, your brother.

Jihoon couldn’t help it. He cracked a smile as he now stared at the ceiling, listening quietly to the others in the next room.

“Whyyyyyy?” Soonyoung whined, and by the sounds you make, Jihoon assumes that his best friend has tried to cuddle up to you. “You know I would do it for you!”

“Do I?” You hum, swatting at his arm. “Hop off you giant oaf, you’ll get it on your clothes.”

“Oh please,” he scoffs. “Like I haven’t dealt with bleach before.

Bleach? Jihoon balk’s, pursing his lips in confusion.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Your brother asks Soonyoung.

“Nothing good ever comes out of 3am sleep deprived choices, y’know.” You remind your friend.

“That didn’t stop you both from putting it on your scalps, so you’re just as bad as I am, if not worse!” Jihoon can tell that Soonyoung is flailing his arms around as he speaks. He knows him too well.

“Yah!” You bark back, your soulmate chuckling softly as he hears you swat Soonyoung, resounding a loud yelp. “You peer pressured us, you fiend!”

“Nah, you did it because you loooooove me!” He sings, making loud kissy noises.

“Yah!” Your brother barks now, another smack and yelp resounding in the room. You and your brother are definitely similar, that’s for sure. “Don’t tease my sister, you little gremlin!”

“Wah…” Soonyoung gasps, pressing a hand over his chest. “Betrayed by my favourite hyung…”

“Ooh, don’t let Hannie-Oppa hear.” You giggled as a timer rings out. “Okay, we gotta wash it out.” After a brief pause, you click your fingers. “Are you gonna help?! You got us into this mess!”

“Don’t yell at me!” Soonyoung whines, but when the three of you all start giggling, Jihoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He blinks slowly with a soft yawn, letting sleep take over him once again.

When Jihoon wakes next, he groans as he shields his eyes, the morning sunlight filtering into the living room as Soonyoung pushes the curtains open.

“Are you sure she isn’t in her room?” Jeonghan calls out again from the bottom of the staircase.

“I’ve looked three times already!” Your brother shouts back, his heavy footsteps stomping through the house. “She’s not here, I don’t know how long she’s been gone but we need to go-”

“Hyung, it’s alright. All of her things are still here.” Soonyoung calls back as Jihoon sits up, leaning his head back against the headrest of the couch, rubbing at his eyes.

“What’s going on?” Jihoon yawns.

“Y/N isn’t here.” Wonwoo replies, running his fingers through a half asleep Mingyu’s hair, head nestled sleepily against his shoulder.

Jihoon’s eyes widen as he glances at your brother, who’s once long black locks last night were now dyed a bleached platinum white, disheveled from running his fingers through it constantly. Jeonghan, bless his soul, reaches out to pat at his soulmate’s hair to calm him down.

“I’m sure she has just gone for a morning walk, hyung.” Seokmin tries to rationalize, smiling sleeplily. “You know she likes to do that.”

“I don’t know.” He grumbles, his arms taking solace around his soulmate’s waist to stop him from fidgeting. “Last time we couldn’t find her…”

Jihoon frowns as he remembers Seokmin’s words from the fateful day he figured out you were soulmates. Surely you wouldn’t be that silly to run away again.

“Hyung, don’t freak out.” Soonyoung smiles, patting Seungcheol’s shoulder. “Really. You don’t need to get so worked up. She’s grown a lot since all those years ago. I know she wouldn’t leave without any notice.”

“Who wouldn’t leave?” Your voice fills the room, and everyone’s heads all spin to you with wide eyes.

You’re walking through the hallway in a pair of blue faded jeans with rips in the knees paired with a large oversized black hoodie, pulling out and placing your AirPods into their case with one hand and placing a large plastic bag on the counter with the other. Only your left side of your body is visible to the others, your long dark hair covering your face. The jingling of a leash rings through the room as a fluffy white dog runs excitedly across the room to your surprised brother, wagging her tail before trotting through the living room.

“Kkuma-ya!!!” Seokmin squeals happily as the dog, who now Jihoon notices up close has a baby pink clip holding her fur out of her face, leans her head against Seokmin’s leg. He reaches down to scratch behind her ears with a giggle.

“See? I told you!” Soonyoung beams proudly at Seungcheol. “I know my best friend.”

“Yah! Where have you been?!” He yells, rushing to you with Jeonghan following close behind.

“What do you mean?” You ask with a tilted head, pulling out the 3 cup trays from the bag. “Didn’t you see the note I left on the fridge? I took Kkuma to work to get some coffees and some birthday treats for Soonie.”

Seungcheol balked, and Jeonghan just turned to smirk at him.

“You didn’t check the fridge, did you, darling?”

Your brother just grumbles with a pout on his lips, taking one of the iced coffees from the trays, leaning over and giving you a thankful but also relieved kiss on the forehead. You just smile sweetly at him as Jeonghan takes a hot cup of tea.

“Thank you, Lady Bug.” He smiles and bumps your hip with his before following his soulmate to occupy a small section of the couches with a donut in hand.

“Noona works at a bakery?” Chan’s eyes widen as he finally pulls the blankets off him at the sight of enough plastic cups for everyone in the room, and a box of various cupcakes, slices and donuts.

“It’s nothing special, Chan-ah.” You laugh, taking two of the three trays, turning towards the boys. “But the employee discount works pretty well when you have friends who are addicted to caffeine and sugar.”

“Woah!” Junhui voices what everyone is thinking. “Your hair!”

Jihoon’s eyes go wide once again as you face them completely, the right side of your hair bleached the same platinum white as your brother, your cheeks turning pink as they all stare.

“What? Is it bad?” You stand in place, your face getting darker and darker.

“Of course not!” Seokmin speaks up as none of the others seem to be able to form words.

Jihoon’s cheeks are flushed a dusted pink as he takes in the innocent look of worry and shyness on your face. It looks anything but bad. You look fantastic, he thinks, if he was single, he would even go as far as thinking you look-

“You look hot.” Hansol blurts out, your face somehow turning even darker. Jihoon side-eye’s the newcomer to the group with a frown.

“Wow, you have such a way with words.” Seokmin laughs, a proud grin on Soonyoung’s face.

“What can I say, I have that rizz.” He retorts with a laugh.

“More like harizzment.” Mingyu huffs, Chan guffawing at the pun along with Junhui.

“Thank god you said it first, babe!” Seungkwan grins, rising from the floor. “I thought it wouldn’t mean much from me, since I call you hot all the time.” He laughed happily, reaching out and running his fingers through it. “My best friend is so stunning!” He squeals, taking one of the trays from your hands to hand out the usual drinks to Junhui, Chan, Hansol and himself. “Thank you for getting these for us, Bug!”

“O-oh..” you’re flustered, laughing quietly as you pass Seokmin, Soonyoung, Mingyu and Wonwoo their drinks. “Thanks, guys.” You laugh nervously, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear before grabbing the last two drinks.

“Yah, don’t thank them!” Soonyoung smirks. “Thank me! I’m the genius who decided it was a great idea to change your look last night! You’re welcome, Lovebug!” He laughs proudly.

Jihoon blinks out of his daze as he realizes you’re making your way over to him, cheeks still flushed. “Uh, Soonie said that you’re not much of a coffee drinker. I don’t drink coffee either, so I just got you what I normally get, a hot chocolate. I hope that’s okay.” You push the paper cup gently into his hands, unable to look up into your soulmate’s face as you sink into a beanbag on the floor. “I don’t know if you like marshmallows or anything, so they’re on the counter-”

“This is perfect, actually.” Jihoon stops your rambling as he takes a sip of the warm drink. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You glance up at him at his words, giving him a gentle smile and nod. When he’s sure you’re not looking at him, he lets the small smile take over his face at your consideration. The chocolate is way too sweet for his taste, he prefers the bitter taste of dark chocolate. But, he couldn’t find it in himself to reject the drink from you. The satisfaction and pride on your face when Jihoon told you the drink was perfect is too memorable for him to want to strip away from you. Instead, he grins and bears the overly sweet chocolatey drink for you.

“See, I told you he’d like it.” He overhears his best friend whisper to you, and you smile into your paper cup. Kkuma climbs up into your lap, wagging her tail happily as you use your free hand to run it through her fur.

If he was honest, Jihoon doesn’t know why he so blindly accepted the sugary sweet drink. If it were Soonyoung or Mingyu, he would’ve rejected them without a second thought. Why has he suddenly accepted your drink without any thought for his own likes?

You didn’t have to get this drink for him. Heck, you didn’t even need to be talking to him period for what he did to you. You are too nice for your own good, Jihoon thinks. He didn’t deserve someone as good as you as a soulmate. You didn’t deserve such a jerk like him, either. One too many times lately, Jihoon again lets his thoughts take over as he absentmindedly sipped from his cup, again not noticing the eyes of your brother’s soulmate watching him; studying him.

“Y/N,” Seungkwan broke Jihoon out of his spiraling thoughts, and you hum in response. “How did you manage to get Mr Park to accept your hairstyle for Mamma Mia?” He tilts his head. “Is he going to get a random ass wig for you or?”

“Oh, about that.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Nah, I’ve decided I’m not auditioning this year.”

You swear you could’ve heard a pin drop in the room as the uncomfortable silence swells.

“I’m sorry…” Seungkwan starts again as you avoid his gaze. “Are you telling me that the one musical that you have dreamed of doing for years is being done and you’re not going to audition for the main role?”

“Uhhh…” you shrink into the couch beside Soonyoung, almost curling into him. “Yeah?”

“What is wrong with you?” He bellows, and you flinch. “You’ve wanted the role of Sophie for years, Y/N! Now you’re pretty much guaranteed and you won’t do it?”

“Boo..” you sighed as Soonyoung wrapped an arm around you.

“No, I’m not going to let you throw this opportunity away!” He insists, his frown evident.

“I just…” your voice is smaller now, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “I really didn’t want to have to pretend to be in love for countless hours of rehearsals and on top of that, seven performances.” Jihoon winces as he can feel your anxiousness and sadness brewing in your stomach, and he, alongside the rest of the group, eyes your friend to see his reaction.

Seungkwan sighs, reaching out and letting his hand rest on your knee. “I’m sorry for shouting,” you place your hand gently over his, nodding wearily. “I just love you, Bug,” You don’t love me, you think. “And I want only the best for you. But if you think this would only hurt you more in the long run, then I won’t bother you about it anymore, okay?”

“Thanks, Boo.” You hum quietly as you take another sip from your cup. “I’ll just be behind the scenes for this one. The costume team needs more helpers so that’s where I’ll be this year.” You laugh with a hollow smile, before you glance at Soonyoung, who still held you.

“You have to have some cake, Soonie.” You change the topic swiftly, and much to your relief, everyone goes along with it and takes multiple treats from the bakery.

Jihoon is the only one who doesn’t eat, though. He quietly sips on his sickly sweet drink in his hands as he occasionally glances to you, who seems to thrive in the fact your friends are enjoying the goods that you purchased for them.

“I missed you.” Jihoon hums as he takes Ji-ah into his arms late Sunday night.

She had just arrived back from visiting her family, and she let herself melt into his arms. “And I missed you!” She cooed, lips pressing softly to his cheek. He smiled as they both settled down onto his bed, Ji-ah snuggling sweetly against his chest.

“Do you have to go every weekend though?” He jokes playfully, his hand stroking along her arm absentmindedly.

“You’re getting a bit greedy with me, Hoonie.” Ji-ah smiles as her arm drapes around his waist. “You get me all week every week! You know how much my family means to me, you big goof.” She giggles softly as Jihoon lets out a chuckle. “You can always come with me if you miss me that much, you know.”

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He plays along, smiling.

“Soonyoung’s party was good?” Ji-ah asks sleepily as Jihoon nods.

“Mhm,” he hums, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. “He was ecstatic the entire night. Never knew that someone could still be so excited about a birthday.” He laughs quietly as Ji-ah giggles along with him for a moment before going silent.

Jihoon watches his girlfriend drift off to sleep in his arms, leaving him alone with his thoughts once again. He closes his eyes in an attempt to try and sleep, his stomach churning slightly in guilt. He’s cuddling up to his not-soulmate while his actual soulmate is all alone and feeling the comfort and contentment he’s feeling.

You need to learn to get over it, Jihoon. You’ve made your bed, you can lay in it. He needs to be tough on himself; it’s the only way he will be able to get through his inner turmoil.

For a week, everything goes without a hitch. Jihoon is in a good place with Ji-ah and quite frankly, with you as well. He finds himself not waking up most nights with overwhelming emotions, and he begins to wonder if you’ve started healing. He hopes you have. You have become Jihoon’s desk mate for Film Studies class, and are due at the end of the week to have your first big study session to discuss what film you’ll pick to present about. You’re civil, and even at your third class together, you had brought two familiar paper cups; one for you and one for your soulmate. It’s the first class of the day, and after an explanation to Jihoon that you just finished the early morning shift at the bakery, it really was no trouble to get him another hot chocolate. Like last time, he grins and bears the overly sweet drink, but smiles to himself when he sees the satisfied look on your face.

Auditions have begun in the auditorium, with Jihoon having to sit and endure hours worth of playing the same four chords of the main song of the musical at the piano by the stage. He loathed it, really. He didn’t know that this is what he signed up for when he applied to be in the orchestra for the play. Despite his reasons, Jihoon trudges on without complaint; at least he can practice his piano skills and improve his progression in that area. He does, however, complain to himself at the majority of the drama club auditioning. Half of them can’t hold a tune to save their life, and by Bad Singer #14, he is beginning to think that this musical will be a lost cause. Maybe you should have auditioned after all. He wouldn’t mind another hot chocolate drop, either.

With a sigh, Jihoon adjusts his backpack on his shoulder as he glances up to the sky. It’s full of dark oranges, pinks and purples, and he feels himself smile. He had grown fond of sunsets since he found you - he decided after a week that this was the best time of day. He always likes that no sunset is ever the same; unique in its own way and always breathtaking to everyone who takes the view in. These sunsets were his favourite so far, though. The setting sun hits the wispy clouds just right, making the sky erupt in eye popping colours with the tiniest little stars beginning to emerge.

He takes a long breath as he watches the sky above him, letting his feet take him subconsciously along the usual route to his home. He finds himself slowing down and coming to a stop about five minutes away from his destination, not surprisingly in front of your house. His eyes widen as he sees none other than you, his soulmate sitting on top of the roof of your home, headphones on and, just like Jihoon, staring at the sunset.

You have a dreamy smile on your face as you pull a Polaroid camera from your side and take a snapshot. As you place the film beside you, you take some photos from your phone now, your hums quiet, but loud enough to travel down to where Jihoon stands by your gate, observing you. The wind is blowing your hair gently in the breeze, a shiver running up your body as you wrap your cardigan tighter around you. You type a little longer on your phone before taking a long sigh and start to carefully rise up and make your way down the slope of your roof and down onto the little balcony in front of what Jihoon assumes to be your bedroom window. You take one last look at the sunset with a gentle smile before you step inside, closing the window behind you. Your soulmate waits for five minutes more to make sure you don’t come out again, and once he is satisfied, he turns and starts to walk back to his home once more.

Once Jihoon is settled in his bed, he breathes out a long sigh before feeling a warmth of comfort begin to roll through his body. He wonders what makes you feel so content and comfortable, but welcomes the feeling nonetheless. He is scrolling through his useless Instagram timeline mindlessly before finding himself hovering his thumb over the Search button. After a moment of hesitation, he types in your name into the search bar, clicking on your profile without a moment to lose. He stares at your profile picture for a moment, laughing quietly at the picture being the same white dog he saw at your home, Kkuma. He feels his stomach swell at the sight of your latest picture, in both sadness and guilt.

Jihoon heaves a breath. Your mother. He blinks before scrolling through your feed slowly. There’s the occasional photo of Soonyoung and your brother, some of your theatre performances and outings with your friends, but the majority of your posts were all of the sky. Varying sunsets flood your feed, each picture more stunning than the next. Your captions are almost always the same, each one being a thank you for your mother painting the sky for you, in your words, but Jihoon notices the ones after you found each other were more detailed. You could finally witness your mothers beauty the way the world intended it to be, and Jihoon weeps.

He weeps for your mother, whose life got cut so short for selfish reasons, he weeps for your brother who had to navigate helping look after a whole other human being before he was ready, and he weeps for you, his soulmate, who lost everything at such a young age and for the way he ripped away the one once of hope you had left, whose heart he broke more than it already was for nothing more than what he selfishly wanted. You, who goes out of your way to try to avoid him so you don’t interrupt his relationship with his not-soulmate. You, who offered him your umbrella on your first proper interaction so he wouldn’t get wet and who also offered to buy him drinks for class because you thought he’d want a pick me up for the first class of the day.

You may be feeling as fine as you could be, but Jihoon feels nothing but guilt for stripping everything you hoped for from you.

Real Eyes, Fake Lies Taglist

@cinnamoroxie @enhacolor @mikachu-chu @jojowantstocry @changbinisms @scarlet789 @i-dont-give-a-fok @im-gemmy @shookyungsoo @ametheyistheart @friendlywraith @kawennote09 @coupddeongie @sunooschubbycheeks @zgzgzh @mar-627 @side-angel @kuleo26 @deltamoon666 @snowgirlfallen @lixiel0ver @phenomenalgirl9 @sumzysworld @vixensss @seokmatchu @etaerealboy @milopenne @jinyoungie0922 @chickenscoups @zadkielr @weebotakuboy

#seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #Woozi Angst #woozi fluff #Lee Jihoon x reader #Lee Jihoon angst #Jihoon x reader #Jihoon Angst #Jihoon fluff #Lee Jihoon fluff #seventeen fanfic

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luvistqrzzz · 11 months

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THE ACCIDENTAL POLAROID- 21- FINALE::: it's like a polaroid love ( written::: 0.5K )

'Where are you taking me, Chae?!' You screamed blindfolded as you felt your three friends around you, leading you out of Hueningkai's broken car.

'Ssh! It's a surprise', she replied, taking your hand and pulling you into a room. 'I swear to God if you're kidna-' your voice died down as Sunoo removed the blindfold and you were met with the somewhat familiar surroundings of... Hungry Jungle diner.

You stood there, frozen in your spot and feeling tensed because you knew who'd be there. The guy you'd met (? sort of ) in this place. The exact one standing on the small stage staring into your eyes.

The silence was broken by Chaewon gently tugging at your hand and leading you to an empty table. You quickly looked away from him, embarrassed. Who thought it'll be a good idea to bring you here? You could almost kill your friends if only you didn't love them so much.

Heeseung cleared his throat, catching your attention, 'The last song for today is my uh own song and it's written for a special someone. I hope yall enjoy it.'

A soft melody filled the place as he started singing but his eyes were on you.

Why am I relying on to love?

It's obvious feeling anyway

I believed I would know everything

I guess it as trap that I fell for even I knew it

You couldn't help but blush at his voice and the sweet lyrics. Maybe giving the letter wasn't that bad of an idea. Even if the room was filled with people, for you, the chatter died down almost like you and Heeseung were the only ones.

It's like a polaroid love

It's not going my way

I don't even have any trendy filter

But I love that vibe

He finished it, a small hopeful smile on his face. Heeseung muttered a small thank you and bowed before leaving the stage.

Alarmed, you quickly got up, following him as he walked towards through the back door. 'Yah Lee Heeseung!'

He stopped in his tracks. This wasn't part of the plan. He had planned to properly confess to you after the night ended, not like this. 'You can't just walk away after singing that song and making me go crazy.'

He turned around to face you but before he could say anything, you ran up to him, pulling him into a kiss. His eyes widened but he slowly melted into it, pulling you closer by the waist.

You didn't even know what had gotten into you but there you were kissing him out of the blue, a thousand butterflies going wild in your stomach.

'I'm sorr-' '- sorry.' You both burst out into laughter, faces still close to each other. Heeseung caressed your cheek. 'Soooo, what do you say, girlfriend, let's get out of here', he suggested.

You playfully shoved him, 'Who said I was your girlfriend, polaroid boy?!'

Prev | Masterlist

SUMMARY- Lee Heeseung doesn't believe in love at first sight but what happens when he accidentally clicks a polaroid of a girl at the local diner? A girl he can't seem to get out of his mind.

Will he be able to return you the polaroid or will love follow him along the way?

GENRE- smau with written parts, college!au, strangers to lovers, fluff, crack, angst (veryyy slight), slight love triangle

TAGLIST- open! send an ask or comment to be added- @yenqa @xuimhao @ddazed-lhs @astrae4 @ghostiiess @seungminstaehyun @haechansbbg @chaechae-23 @ak-aaa-li @whippedforbeomgyu @ahnneyong @ineedaherosavemeenow @jhopesucker @j-wyoung @tnyhees @liliansun @rikizm @jadeluvsenha

(Bold=cannot tag)

AN- ANDDDD THATS A WRAP!! Omg i cant believe that its finally over my first finished smau😭😭😭 i cannot gurantee a bonus chapter but imma try TT!! Tysm to alll who supported this smau ily ily your comments and feedbacks really made my day <33 this was such a silly idea but it turned out fun i hope yall enjoyed it too🤧🫶! See yall in love theory iggg ;))

#📸accidental polaroid !#enhypen smau #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen social media au #enhypen au #heeseung imagines #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fake texts #enha fake texts #enha fics #enhypen fluff

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caritobbg · 1 year

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Coffee Disaster - P1

Bucky Barnes x Barista!Reader x Father Figure!Tony.

Summary: Tony and Bucky's feud has reached its limit of tolerance. What can happen when you leave a supersoldier and Iron Man alone for a few minutes? Answer: disaster.

A/N: well, this is my first Bucky's oneshot! This idea was a dream i had a couple of days ago 😅 I couldn't let it go, so I decided to write it. It might be a multi-chapter because of everything I've been writing 😅😂.

I hope you like it and enjoy it as much as I did while I was writing this story 🥺

TW: SO MUCH ANGST - Bucky&Tony being stupid - angry reader (yes, it's a warning) - sad Bucky - heartbreak

English isn't my first language. Sorry if there's any mistakes 😅

Tag: @ro-is-struggling @luciasimmer96 @themorningsunshine @mads-weasley @aquanova99 @alexsoenomel (if you wanna be tagged, just tell me 🥺❤️)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

"Y/N's Coffee Talk - CLOSED INDEFINITELY".

"Reason: ANTHONY EDWARD STARK - JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES".

Those were the signs that had all the people in the Avengers Tower furious. The tower's barista had decided to close her coffee bar because of a LITTLE INCIDENT a few days before between her father figure and the man she had fallen in love with. Although they didn't know what happened, they could imagine why Y/N was more than upset with them.

The enmity between them reached its limit for such a silly reason! They both wanted the best for her, but their differences did the opposite.

Neither spoke as they pulled out and threw away what was destroyed, each in their own mind carefully planning every step to take to recover that broken relationship and avoid every person in the tower lining up to have their heads as a reward.

Bucky: We should get to work - breaking the overwhelming silence and finishing throwing the last piece of broken wood into the dumpster - this has gone far enough.

Tony: I know - feeling just as guilty - Y/n had put a lot of effort into her work to get all this done.

Bucky: we'll have to do our best to reverse this situation.

Bruce: I want to talk to you two -approaching them with Nat- what did you do to leave the place like that? You know that y/n...

Tony: Yeah yeah, we know - rolling his eyes - that's why we're going to get to work right away.

Nat: Can we know what happened? Steve didn't give details, but even he's itching to rip your heads off.

Tony: It's a long story, but...

Bruce: start talking - impatient

Bucky: what happened was...

Flashback:

Y/N: Good morning James - opening the door and letting out the beautiful smell of freshly brewed coffee - the usual? -with her trademark smile -double shot of espresso with a spoonful of sugar?

Bucky: Good morning Y/N/N -smiling at him- yes, please.

Y/N: Funny so early in the morning here, I thought you were going for a run with Sam?

Bucky: I was -laughing- I needed a moment of peace before the birdbrain makes me kill him -she just laughed and shook her head- also...-dubiously- I wanted to talk something with you

Y/N: mm? What is it? -purging her machine to place the sieved filter holder in it

Bucky: I wanted to know if...

Y/N: Oh no -pulling out his phone-

Bucky: What's wrong?

Y/N: Steve promised to help me upload the new order, they brought beans from Ethiopia, they are some of the best and with an indescribable flavour! -anxious and happy- and it looks like it's already arrived because he just texted me to say it's downstairs.

Bucky: uh.. Ok, it can wait -giving him a warm smile- don't worry.

Y/N: -serving his coffee- are you sure you don't want to tell me now?

Bucky: really doll, don't worry. I'll tell you later and... You make the best coffees in the world

Tony: Speaking of coffee, how about my cappuccino? -looking at the scene before his eyes- I thought it would be ready by now.

Y/N: You're going to have to wait Stark, until I get back I'm not going to make you your beloved cappuccino -passing by his side and grabbing a list of the order-.

Tony: But...

Bucky: Leave her alone Tony, Steve's waiting for her downstairs.

Tony: Did I ask you something?

Bucky: Don't rush her, she's got to go get...

Tony: -ignoring him- come on girl, I need your cappuccinos- behaving like a little kid

Y/N: -hanging up her apron- Tony, wait for me in about... -looking at the time- 30 minutes and I'll do it. I'm not leaving Steve alone downstairs with the three bags of coffee at 3kg each!

Tony: Fine -annoyed- but you'd better...

Bucky: Yeah yeah, make your cappuccino when she's back. Leave her alone Stark

Tony: Shut your mouth Barnes, nobody asked you anything here.

Bucky: And what are you gonna do if i don't...

Y/N: OK YOU TWO -separating them- what did I tell you about arguing here?

Tony&Bucky: that you'll ban us from entering until we settle our differences.

Y/N: exactly -checking that nothing is missing- well, in 30 minutes I'll be back here. In the meantime -seriously- behave like the adults you are -leaving them and closing the door while putting up a "be right back" sign.

Tony: What are you doing here winter? -crossing his arms-

Bucky: None of your business, tin man - sitting down near the bar.

Tony: Uh-huh, right. You never miss your morning jog with Sam or Steve, something brought you here early.

You see, Tony considered Y/N like a daughter. Ever since he met her in that coffee shop in downtown NYC and, months after learning that she was out of work and that her parents had died -years before- in an accident, he swore he would protect her with everything in his power. And that protection included keeping a certain super-soldier away from her.

Bucky: I told you it's none of your business - texting Sam.

Tony: What do we have here... -pulling out his phone and checking it

Bucky: HEY! STARK, GIVE THAT BACK TO ME -chasing him all over the place until he stopped abruptly-

The big ironman couldn't believe his eyes. He kept seeing those messages over and over again.

{SW} AND? Did you tell her? What happened?

[BB] No, not yet.

{SW} Why?! Buck, you have to invite her! Don't waste your time!

Tony: Really Barnes?! I told you to stay away from her! You were going to ask her out!?

Bucky: so what? -putting his phone away- yeah, I want to ask her out, is there a problem with that?

Tony: I'm not going to let you....

Bucky: What you're not going to let? A retired, recovered assassin asking out his best friend?

Sure... "best friend." Since the day they met, Bucky can't get her out of his mind. Y/N was amazing, someone he could spend hours and hours talking to about whatever was on their minds, the one person who could calm him down when his nights were plagued by nightmares of his stormy past. His love for her reached a higher level where he loved her as more than just his best friend.

Tony: I told you, stay away from her -pushing him away-.

Bucky: Stark, I'm warning you -threatening- don't provoke me. You're not her real father.

Tony: Uhh that's scary, -mocking him- and no, I'm not her father, but I'll do anything to keep her away from the monster that...

A fist connecting directly to his face prevented him from speaking any further. Indeed, his provocation brought out the worst in the supersoldier. Tony landed on one of the tables, knocking it completely off and leaving only splinters.

Tony: -still giddy- that's how you want to play it, huh? -slowly getting up and wiping away the small drop of blood that was falling on his lip- we can fix it.

Bucky: Do it

And the fight began.

They both dodged all the blows of their nemesis with speed, though some of them landed on their bodies. They used EVERYTHING there was to defend themselves: chairs, tables, cups, anything they saw was a "weapon".

Bucky: come on tin, it doesn't have to end like this - throwing himself on top of Tony and putting his legs in a headlock on his neck.

Tony: I'm not going to let you beat me, Terminator.

Out of nowhere, a turbine noise is heard coming through the window.

Bucky: You're a... -One of the suit's gloves hits him and sends him flying to the bar where moments before Y/N was preparing the coffee.

Tony: -going to Bucky grabbing him by his clothes- now I'm going to give you what you deserve.

The door opens at that instant and they both go pale.

Steve: What the... -leaving the roasted coffee to one side and unable to believe what was before his eyes.

Y/N: Steve, what's wrong? -appearing from behind him- what...

Her eyes couldn't believe it. Her coffee shop, the place she had staked all her savings and dreams on, totally destroyed. From all the furnishings to the crockery and...

Y/N: m... My... My cafeteria... -looking all around- no... Nononono... WHAT DID YOU DO! -noting that Bucky was right on top of her espresso machine- YOU DESTROYED MY CARIMALLI! -looking at them furiously- DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I SAVED TO GET IT!!!!?????

Looking around, the two realised how much trouble they were in. Regret and shame at their behaviour were the first emotions they felt.

Tony: Y/N/N...

Y/N: - turning totally red - Anthony and James, I told you to behave like adults, not to fight like the two little boys you are, but it seems that every time someone asks you to do that, you ignore it - raising his voice even more and getting closer as they backed away and Steve was only an observer of the situation and enjoying every second - I told you I'd be back in 30 minutes, you promised me not to do anything, what did you do? DESTROYED WHAT MADE ME MOST HAPPY, -pushing them both, although it didn't do much to hurt them any more than they already were.

Anthony and James. Their full names. Steve slowly approached his side to avoid further altercations between the trio in front of him and to call for help in case something happened to Y/N.

Bucky: Doll, we're sorry. We made a really big mistake and....

Y/N: sorry isn't going to fix anything James - walking away with her hands shaking, eyes teary and agitated - this.... There's no turning back

Bucky: are you okay? -scared to see his condition

Y/N: No... -trying to breathe- I don't want you talking to or looking for me...either...both of you.... -her anxiety was reaching its peak- I need to leave. Steve... I don't... I don't feel well

Tony: princess, please -seeing her get out of there as fast as possible

The three men stood alone looking out over the war territory. Steve was disappointed that Bucky was letting Tony's provocations get the better of him, he knew this was going to happen someday, but not a fight on this scale.

Steve: -watching them for a moment- really? Bar fight?

Tony: Rogers, we know we screwed up and let the grudge get the worst of us, but I wasn't going to let Barnes make her suffer. It's HIS fault for starting this.

Bucky: MY FAULT? You started provoking me and treating me like something I'm not anymore.

Tony: Sure, you didn't throw the first punch, did you?

Steve: OK, ENOUGH! -seeing Steve angry wasn't an everyday occurrence- you have to fix this mess now and it better be soon. This ends now

F.R.I.D.A.Y: Captain Rogers, Miss Y/L/N needs your help.

Steve: What's going on?

F.R.I.D.A.Y: I detected that her stress levels are very high and she can't breathe. She is in her room.

Steve: tell her I'm on my way - scrubbing her face with his hands - clean up and start doing something. Now.

Tony: Now we're screwed.

______________________________________

Tony: And after that we saw Steve take her to the medical wing because her anxiety was getting worse and worse - feeling guilty about what caused that situation.

Bruce: You've got to be kidding me -in disbelief- did you really fight over her?

Bucky: Yeah -embarrassed- we realised too late what we did and ended up hurting her in the worst way.

Nat: By ignoring her and breaking her trust in both of us over a stupid argument?

Tony: Ouch.

Bucky: That hurt, but.... Yeah - wiping the dust off his hands - we'd better start now, there's no time to waste.

Tony: Yeah, but where do we start? -heading with everyone to the tower- we destroy her dream coffee shop.

Bruce: What does she like? -helping them a little, he felt sorry for these two- there's got to be something that you know about.

Bucky: -getting on the elevator- umm... one of the renovations she always wanted to do was to change the current colours for brighter ones and the chairs and tables for ones that...

Tony: well, that's a start - clasping his hands together - let's go to the lab to plan....

The doors opened and they found Y/N in the living room. Nat approached her slowly and placing a hand on her shoulder and only gave her a faint smile that faded as she saw Bucky, as Tony continued on his way to his office in the lift.

Bruce: Nat, I need you to help me with something, - understanding what was about to happen- now

Bucky: Y/N/N... -seeing that they were all alone as they disappeared through the kitchen doorway

Y/N: my dream was always to have a coffee shop of my own -sighing- no matter the place or the people, I always wanted that, besides starting college -the painting she was holding in her hands ended up broken in the trash before he could say a word- now I know that what everyone said was true.... I'm never going to be able to fulfil it. All thanks to you two

That broke Bucky.

Bucky: doll, don't say that, of course....

Y/N: no "doll" - annoyed - you let the provocations get to your head when I told you over a million times to ignore it!

Bucky: yeah, I know, I just didn't...

Y/N: I thought you'd changed James, that you weren't letting anger consume you anymore -disappointed

Bucky: what? -speechless- of course I don't let my past bring out the worst in me anymore, don't say those things, please.... -taking her hands- I wasn't thinking about what I was doing and...

Y/N: James. Stop it. - turning away from him with teary eyes - I asked you not to make a big deal out of it. You did the opposite. Everything's changed now. Oh, God! I even thought that... -biting her tongue- enough, it doesn't matter now.

Bucky: what did you think? -in a whisper and annoyed with himself- tell me

Y/N: nothing, it doesn't matter -getting up to leave

Bucky: don't go -taking her by the arm- please, tell me

Y/N: James, no, that's it.

Bucky: please, - locking his stormy eyes on hers- I want to know and I'll stop bothering you until I come up with a solution.

Y/N: -taking a deep breath- I liked you -letting go of his grip- I wanted to tell you that very day, I had worked up the courage. It's all gone now. -leaving him alone with his thoughts

He couldn't believe what he heard. Y/N, his best friend, had the same feelings as him, she reciprocated! On the one hand he wanted to jump up and down and scream with happiness, on the other hand he wanted to beat himself up for what his anger accomplished.

Slowly he walked to the bin where the picture was and curiously picked it up and was stunned. It was the collage with all the pinterest pictures they had taken together at the bar one night when neither of them could sleep. It took him a couple of minutes to react and go to Stark to start executing the plan.

Sam: Wow dude - bumping into him in the hallway - what's up?

Bucky: She likes me -shaken from running- she likes me and I ruined everything -showing him the painting- but I'll fix it.

Sam: - confused - and this is it?

Bucky: this is the dream coffee shop that Y/N always wanted - walking next to him - I'll do my best to recreate it in reality and make her happy - more than determined-.

Sam: so -crossing his arms- where do we start?

_________________________________________

Tell what you think guys 🥺 I will be uploading the following parts soon ❤️

#bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader angst #james barnes x reader #james barnes one shot #bucky fanfiction #Bucky x barista!reader #bucky barnes one shot

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whiskeybeforesunset · 2 years

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Just a Crush | Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Male!Reader

Word Count: 545

Synopsis: Takes place during Steve’s “little nuggets” conversation with Nancy. Reader is romantically interested in Steve (to what degree, I’ll let you decide) and has a moment of self reflection when he hears what Steve is saying.

Warnings: Angst, BIG self deprecation is this one fellas, period appropriate internalized homophobia, unrequited love, unhealthy pinning, Billy Joel (sorry not sorry)

Author’s Notes: I want you all to know that you are valid. Whether or not someone is interested in you romantically does not reflect your worth as a person. That being said, enjoy the angst.

Part 2

—

The mobile home’s rickety axel caused the vehicle to jostle in a nauseating way. It certainly wasn’t the most luxurious of getaway cars, but it would have to do. In an attempt to distract yourself from the unsettling motion, you peer out the window. The trees here seem endless; the midday light filtering through them creates an ethereal glow that might be calming if not for the situation.

“How’s it handle?” Nancy’s words bring you out of your distracted state.

“Not that bad,” Steve replies. “Considering that this is a… house.”

This moment feels private somehow. Despite the vehicle being packed full of people, it’s almost as if you shouldn’t be listening in on it. You consider putting on some headphones but then:

“It’s silly but I,” Steve stammers out. “I always had this dream that I’d have this really big family, a full brood of Harringtons.”

As Nancy laughs, you feel as though your heart is being torn out. You realize that Steve never saw you as part of his future. No matter how much the night you spent together meant to you, for him it was just another ‘date’ to cope with the loss of Nancy, albeit a slightly more experimental one.

God how stupid were you to think Steve Fucking Harrigton of all people would ‘come around.’ It’s not as though you’re entirely incapable of understanding why he feels the way he feels. Nancy is beautiful, intelligent, ambitious, funny: the perfect woman. And you, well, you aren’t even a woman. You could never give him the life he wants. You can’t give him a family, or get married, or hell, even hold hands in public with him.

But god, you would kill for him to look at you the way he looks at her. Like you’re the solution to all his problems, the missing piece that would make him complete. To be the first person he reaches to protect when there’s a sign of danger. But you’re not that person, and you never will be.

“Hey, you alright?” Robin’s voice brings you back to reality.

“Yeah, I um-” you clear your throat, not realizing how watery your eyes had become. “Just zoned out there for a minute, nothing to worry about. No Vecna, I promise.” You reassure her with a tight lipped smile.

“Ok, well,” she glances towards Steve before meeting your eyes again. “If you ever need to talk… about anything, I am here.”

You’re pretty sure Robin knows, maybe not the full extent of the issue since you’ve never told her about it out of respect to Steve, but she knows.

“Thanks, Robin.” You say as you look back at Steve once more. Him and Nancy are sharing a meaningful look.

“That sounds nice,” Nancy nearly whispers.

You sigh, deciding you’ve tortured your self enough, you slide your headphones over your head and close your eyes. As All For Leyna by Billy Joel plays, you can’t help but think how ridiculous it is that you're getting ready for an apocalyptic event and all you can seem to worry about is that the boy you have a crush on doesn’t like you back. Because that’s all it is right? A crush?

Yeah. You silently confirm to yourself.

Just a crush.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington X Reader #Steve Harrington X You #Steve Harrington X M!Reader #Steve Harrington X Male!Reader #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington FanFic #Stranger Things Fanfic #Steve Harrington Fan Fiction #Steve Harrington Angst #Stranger Things Fan Fiction #Stranger Things Angst #Angst #Just a Crush #Male!Reader #M!Reader #M!Reader fic #Male!Reader fic

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miscellaneoussmp · 6 months

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I am once again posting about my silly little au (still unnamed). I am so normal, I promise. Anyway, I hope yall enjoy another random scene that popped into my head. (cw/tw: themes of blood, violence, and death through. general Roier angst)

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe Roier should have known that following his friends (or people who used to be his friends) into an abandoned castle was a bad idea. Especially as it was so soon after they got into a fight. He even noticed they were acting weirder than normal. Roier should have known it was a one-way ticket to disaster. He should have known. He shouldn't have trusted them so easily. It was his fault, really. Why does it still hurt so much? Shouldn't the wound have healed by now? It should be scarred over by now. Roier looks down to see there's blood on his hand. He's still bleeding.

The sound of shattering porcelain gets Roier's attention. Right, he's in the kitchen. He was watching Cellbit make coffee (why does he still drink coffee if he's a vampire?). "Roier, you're throwing things again." Cellbit is very matter-of-fact, grounding, as he leans down to pick up the broken mug. It was left on the counter to dry before it was broken. Roier doesn't know how he's able to throw things, only that he does. Moving things is easy. It just requires a bit of focus on his part. It's the same with turning on lights or faucets. "Do you want to talk about it?" Cellbit's voice draws his attention back to the present. Yes. No. Roier isn't sure. He doesn't want to trust so easily again. The words tumble out of his mouth all at once. "It still fucking hurts and I want it to stop! Why won't it stop? Why can't I stop bleeding?" The kitchen smells like stale blood. Is that his doing? Or has it always smelt like this? Roier desperately hopes this is one of those times where Cellbit couldn't hear him. The light bulb above them pops. The room is now bathed in the dim natural light that filters through the closed curtains. When did all the cabinets open?

Cellbit is looking at him, looking through him. "That was new." Cellbit only looks mildly concerned as he closes the cabinets. Did he hear what Roier said? It's silent between them. Neither of them breath. Cellbit's shoulders rise and fall in the pale imitation of breathing. He takes a sip of his coffee, and Roier watches from the opposite side of the kitchen island. "People tend to move on from their pain after a while," Roier wants to slam a door on purpose. It still hurts. He's still bleeding. He can still feel the sword being pulled out from his back. "I'm sorry you didn't get your chance to."

#qsmp #qsmp au #unnamed vampire and ghost au #qsmp roier #qsmp cellbit #qsmp guapoduo #eventually i will write this out properly #for now fragments of scenes that pop into my head is all anyone gets

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eureka-its-zico · 7 months

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”I’ll do you the honour of killing you with Yuri” Mihawk holds up a picture of women in love, embracing, laughing, enjoying their time together. Zoro, a man who rejects romance and all affection with every fibre of his body, faints. Doc gives him an ice pack for the bruise he’ll wake up to as he just went splat on the floor. Mihawk, bidding his new best friend Usopp goodbye before he leaves. The end. No bad injuries. (Yuri, from my quick google, is about romance between women, I think) (idk I thought this was funny)

Okay on to my serious attempt at reviewing your work, Jenna. Loved it!!!!!! My goodness I was just all warm and fuzzy despite the angst of Zoro trying to fulfil his dream and his vow. I read you haven’t really been feeling your writing lately and whilst of course your feelings are valid, and no one can be full of confidence in their creations at all times, I must dispute. You are just soooo good at writing the interactions between people who care about each other, especially in non verbal methods. Like in last chapter how Sanji displays his care for Zeff despite his words, and in this, how everyone was clasping elbows etc in worry for Zoro.

“I’m always going to be in every one of your corners because you guys are in mine”

wow, i love that line, it is so accurate to live action Luffy (haven’t read enough of the manga to verify how in line it is with that version). What an amazing person, he’s just always so kind. I’m sometimes close to tearing up at how he just always treats his friends earnestly, just as he’s incredibly silly, his lack of filter applies to being unabashedly kind. You did great with his character.

and I’m happy to see Sanji and the drink owed! And Ussop kept on mentioning Zoro, which was definitely what a teasing friend would do, it depicted childhood friends well. About their childhood, more specifically Doc’s, I was definitely surprised and happy to see some development there too.

Anyways, or I’ll go on forever,

have an absolutely fantastic week!

(also, what does Osiyo mean for you? I could google it, but it always impersonal getting a machine translation, like I’m just getting a word translation and not what situations people would use it in, etc)

Osiyo, Chilly!!

I have been unhinged laughing in the corner of my room for the last three minutes after reading your first part. I was like, Yuri? Forgot my ass WROTE YORU AS YURI and immediately lost all brain function and have gone into an endless sea of cackles. I have wondered how the hell I missed it while going and fixing it. I am officially deceased. Good fucking bye lol.

Osiyo (ᎣᏏᏲ) is Cherokee for Hello. I am Native American and that is my tribes language.

Thank you for being so sweet. I try really hard to make the interactions between them feel real and well-thought-out. I'm happy it is something that you can see while reading it, and I appreciate you saying such nice things. I am trying to be kinder to myself the way that you, and others have shown me kindness.

Luffy in the OPLA seems to be incredibly kind. I've just started reading the manga but have been watching the anime for a while. I NEED DOC TO MEET BROOKS OK. Even in there, he is a softie, but I feel like OPLA Luffy is even softer than that??

Thank you for stopping by and leaving me this sweet review. It is always a pleasure to hear from you! I hope your Monday is a good one and your week even better. Much love.

#simplychillin #answered #when i tell you i lost my shit realizing my editing skills didn't notice the wrong name was still there #i died #absolutely lost my mind over an editing error lol #thank you for stopping by !!#Chaos in Their Bones review #and yes I went and edited that shit asap lol

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inkforhumanhands · 5 months

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I am :chinhands: at any DVD commentary you'd like to share, so for the "questions for fic writers" game: 2, 17, 37, and (only if you are comfortable sharing!!) 49:D

Ficlet (30) Humor (20) Angst (13) POV Matt Murdock (10) Getting Together (9) Seems like I tagged all the ficlets in my ficlet series with that lol. However, I wouldn't say I am "a ficlet writer." These are mostly from the writer's month challenge I did way back. As for humor and angst, yes lol. I feel like crangst (crack + angst) is kind of the niche I've carved out for myself: silly scenarios with a bit of ouch. The POV thing is interesting, but it looks like AO3 doesn't necessarily include all of your tags in order because I have 9 fics tagged POV Foggy and it didn't show up in my list. I guess I'm pretty evenly split on whose POV I write. And getting together? Yes! My favorite thing to write lol. Established relationship is generally a lot less interesting to me, so I don't write it as much.

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

I have two, but I actually think other people would enjoy them just fine. One is a LOTR-esque mattfoggy story, for which I have zero details other than traveling together on the run, hurt/comfort vibes, and the requisite fantasy elements. The other is an FMA (Full Metal Alchemist) earth-65 mattfoggy fusion I came up with together with @amazing-spiderling where young Murderdock tries to resurrect his mother and as part of the toll for trying to do so his personality gets split in half. "Mike," aka the "good" part of Murderdock's personality, is thus relegated to Truth's realm for the most part- except for when he manages to briefly possess Murderdock. You fill in the rest.

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

My obligatory answer for this kind of question is always going to be Conditionals. I think the psychological horror tag turns people off lol since that's not usually what they're reading mattfoggy for XD But I think I did a pretty good job with the linguistics/"what if" motif throughout, and there's some really fun writing in it! If I was going to pick another low-kudos fic, I suppose I'd go with To the Dregs. This is one of the aforementioned ficlets, and I don't think it's particularly good. But it is one I have tentative plans to come back to and rewrite as part of a larger fic where Karen and Foggy try resurrecting Matt after Midland Circle and it, of course, goes horribly wrong.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

As usual I have many WIPs, but the one I'm committed to right now is a MikeFoggy fake dating one with MattFoggy endgame. It's shaping up to be quite fun, I think! Have a little snippet: “I had something else in mind,” Mike said, coy as one of the maidens in the period romance novels he’d been reading of late. Foggy froze, every inch of his body going rigid with the exception of his face, which flipped through the five stages of grief before he managed to school it into an expression of stoicism. “You signed an agreement not to proposition me for sex anymore, don’t forget.” “It’s not that,” Mike reassured him begrudgingly, though the tiny voice inside of him he liked to think of as his anti-conscience added, but would that really be so bad? “I want….” He took a deep breath. “I want you to pretend that we’re dating in front of Matt.”

Thanks for the ask! Here's the full list if anyone else wants to join in on the fun.

#asks #mutuallyprime #mattfoggy #mikefoggy #murderdock

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capybaraonabicycle · 6 months

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Hey there! Thought I'd return the favour...

9. How do you find new fic to read?

10. How do you decide what to write?

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

31. What's your ideal fic length to write?

32. What's your ideal fic length to read?

45. What's something you've improved on since you started writing fic?

And if you want, 49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you're up for it!

Very excited to read, and if you have a fic suggestion that I might enjoy of yours to get started, please do share! I'm always happy to check them out!! 🥰

Thank you so much, dear! I am putting this under the cut because it's LONG :)

2. What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits

Here we go:

Fluff (15)

Kissing (12)

Flirting (9)

Fluff and Angst (9)

Friendship (7)

That's pretty accurate, I would say :D I have started writing more angst and less fluff but there is still a good amount of fluff and kissing in anything I produce. I am a little disappointed 'sentient tardis' isn't on here, so maybe I'll need to write more stories with that specific premise :)

9. How do you find new fic to read?

I ask you. Just kidding. Well, I do, but not exclusively.

I often go via filter, starting at the dw 2005 page and then mostly character combination wise, sometimes as a ship, sometimes I just want to see certain people and add them separately. Then sometimes I add a certain keyword (like 'fluff', I do love fluff dearly as you know) or I decide on which array of ratings I feel like and exclude the rest. Also I often know which pairings I DON'T want to see rn, so I exclude those, too.

And then I look at summaries mostly (since the tags are already to my liking, aren't they?) and read whatever catches my eye :)

Sometimes I will specifically look for specific crossovers too (otherwise I mostly exclude them) which is done via the search function. Or I tag a minor minor character like Lorna Bucket because really if they don't get enough time on the show then I need to read all the fanfic!

(this is all about dw, obviously. Because we are living like royals and can be picky. For other fandoms I literally read what there is because they have like 100 fics)

10. How do you decide what to write?

[ID: gif of a fluffy dog with animated question marks on their head. end ID]

Next question.

(Honestly, I don't know??? whatever is shouting the loudest inside my head??)

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

I don't know? Anytime someone says 'tropes' I can only think of 'only one bed' and that's the only trope then that exists for me. I know there's more but I never can think of any. I've always liked 'only one bed' though. It's so silly; just sleep in that bed?! And then there's always that big thing around it, and everything is so awkward because it's only one bed. It's great. Not really an answer to your question, but now you know that I don't understand the 'only one bed' trope but I do love it a lot.

31. What's your ideal fic length to write?

2k-10k. I often don't manage to stay below 2k and anything above 10k I most likely won't finish. If I have to put a pin in it.... 3000 words, that's the perfect amount to manage AND feel very proud of how much I wrote :)

32. What's your ideal fic length to read?

If it's by someone I'm unfamiliar with: <5k. Then I will be most likely to say 'alright, we'll give this a try, I can do this.'

If it's by someone whose writing I already love: any length. I'll never get enough of you, give me the longest most convoluted plots or 5 words you scribbled during lunch, I love you, I smile like an idiot whenever I get an email notification and it's in one of my fandoms ❤️❤️❤️

45. What's something you've improved on since you started writing fic?

English <3

Okay, actual answer now:

I think I have become a lot better with tackling queer themes? Maybe 'better' is not the best word but 'more comfortable'. When I first started writing fic, it had to be a boy and a girl and then they got together. Because of course that's how it goes. (Also I was way back in the closet then.) (bear in mind I am talking of 10+ years of writing fic now.) (also yes, I've always been writing a lot of gen and family/other platonic relationships, too)

And then I slowly, carefully, started writing wlw and mlm ships. And then some poly ships. Maybe even some ace characters. A year ago I finally wrote a coming-out fic.

And it's still difficult. I especially struggle with trans and poly characters because I don't identify as such - or well at least I lean towards not identifying as trans or poly - and I am still so scared of doing harm and doing something wrong and I am questioning whether I am the right person to write those stories.

But it's getting better? I'm trying to get more into the mindset of 'I AM the right person because when I'll make mistakes, hopefully someone will notice and I will learn and do better next time'. And I definitely feel way less ashamed about queer topics in general and writing queer themes in particular, so that's an awesome step.

It's definitely not just about the writing, but the reading of fic too, spending time on tumblr (one of the things where this webbed site actually has a positive influence imo) and meeting more queer people in real life. But writing something queer and someone telling you 'I liked this' or 'I feel this' or 'they are so cute together'? That's simply amazing and it feels so good that it has become basically normal for me.

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you're up for it!

I mean, you know it's primarily the cat fic. Let's have some of it, shall we?

River is being very naughty here, so I am sorry. I have to say, I am still feeling kinda uncomfortable about the lack of informed consent in part of this. But, tbh, I am also totally living my best life here.

(what to expect, in case you'd rather avoid it: accidental flashing of underwear to Yaz by the Doctor, also Siren is both checking the Doctor out while she doesn't know who the cat is and giving Yaz little cat kisses while Yaz isn't aware that she isn't a cat.)

“Holding you might even psyche me up for talking to her” Yaz murmured while turning towards the door, “as it seems I am developing some sort of crush, there.” It was the first time she had said it out loud and the words hung heavy on her tongue, however softly she had spoken them. Something rough graced her cheek and when she turned, she realised Siren had licked her face. The cat was looking at her with shining eyes, she almost seemed excited. Then she leant forward, bopping Yaz's chin with her nose. Yaz laughed, the weight of her feelings for the Doctor immediately feeling lighter. “Does this mean, you approve?” she asked amusedly and Siren purred, very loudly. “Well then” Yaz snorted. “Can't go nothing wrong with your approval, can it?” Siren meowed, possibly to support the point, and Yaz finally left her room, cat in her arms. She couldn't deny though, that after that talking up, there was a certain spring to her step and energy to the knock on the Doctor's door, that otherwise wouldn't have been there. She was, however, not prepared in the slightest for what awaited her, when the Doctor opened the door. She was wearing her working goggles, her hair pulled back into a bun that half the blonde mess had fallen out of already, and underneath, on her torso, she was wearing a dark-blue, sweaty sports bra, her suspenders and nothing else. “Uhh” Yaz said, quickly averting her eyes and staring at a spot next to the Doctor instead. “Hiya Yaz” the Doctor pushed up the goggles and when Yaz's eyes flickered to her face she could see a beaming smile between smudges of engine oil. “What's up?” “I've got your cat” Yaz got out, trying to push her towards the Doctor but tiny claws held onto her shirt for dear life. Apparently, Siren wasn't ready to part yet. When Yaz looked down on her, she could see that contrarily to herself, Siren was blatantly staring at the Doctor's state of undress and she had a silly, yet strong urge to cover the cat's eyes.

Oh, btw, that situation was totally orchestrated by Siren, as you might have guessed. The Doctor is oblivious, she doesn't even remember taking her shirt off. So, yeah, someone tell River to behave. Not me though, unfortunately, I'll basically let her do whatever she wants 🤷‍♀️ Because I can barely say no to River or cats and both combined is too strong a force

Also, I have added some angst so you can have a bit of that as well :) it came out of nowhere and poor Yaz is again my victim. But at least they talk?

(here again Siren is dealing out cat kisses to Yaz, I am planning on making them have a conversation about that later btw, I don't think I can just leave that in and have Yaz not confront River about it. Also Siren is in Yaz's bed here. And the Doctor is barging into Yaz's room without waiting for permission or knocking. And they're fighting, but I think that's it. I cut off before we get to the angsty details.)

Siren purred louder as if she wanted to drown out all of Yaz's worries. “You're a good friend” she murmured and a tiny tongue licked her chin. It tickled and Yaz even had to snort a little. “Thanks” she repeated and prepared to fall asleep with the cat in her arm. Unfortunately, that was when the Doctor finally coughed up the idea to visit Yaz's room. She didn't knock – why would she need to knock, really, on someone's private door – but burst right in like she usually did. She even switched on the light before the door was completely open. “Doctor!” Yaz shot up in her bed, glaring at her. “Yaz!” the Doctor beamed back, noticing the cat – who was hissing at the lamp and looked about as unhappy as Yaz about the turn of events. “You found Siren! Brilliant! Got you both in one place!” “Doctor, I was sleeping!” Yaz exaggerated slightly and the Doctor blinked. “Oh” she said and then. “Why would you do that? You haven't come round my place yet?” She looked highly confused and even a little crestfallen and Yaz had the very stupid urge to hug her. Which she luckily couldn't follow, seated in bed as she was. Because she was angry with her and this was not the time to pity her. Instead she sighed, bracing herself. Maybe she could still ward off the fight until tomorrow, but she needed to be ready. “I'm not coming to your room tonight, Doctor.” “Why not?” “I'm tired” she said simply. “You can sleep in my bed again” the Doctor proposed. “Doctor” Yaz ran a hand through her hair. “I'd like to be alone, tonight.” The Doctor frowned, scanning the way Yaz was avoiding her gaze now, the way her hand was fisted in the bed sheets, the way Siren was sitting at her side like a bodyguard ready to pounce. She was probably also seeing the tear streaks on Yaz's cheek but Yaz refused to brush them away for fear of drawing attention to them. “Have I upset you?” the Doctor miraculously came to the right conclusion and addressed it with her usual degree of directness. “Do you really think it's a good idea to discuss that now?” Yaz asked quietly. “Maybe I should take the night to calm down.” “I don't want you to be miserable for a whole night!” the Doctor exclaimed, dropping down onto the rim of her bed without invitation. “What happened?” Yaz took a deep, steadying breath. Alright, so they were doing that now. Siren pushed into her side as if to give her strength and Yaz gratefully buried a hand in her fur. Then she finally looked the Doctor in the eye.

So, it's so much fun, I can tell you :) No, it actually is, I just don't understand what possessed me to hurt Yaz. But they'll have a fight here, make up (not make out yet but we're getting there - that is until plot happens) and then the three of them will sleep in Yaz's bed for once. Because, as I told you, I believe that if you've got one bed, you've got a BED. So you should use it to sleep, especially if you're a chronically awake alien running on adrenalin and cookies <3

Fic recs

You should definitely read the Division!Mels AU as I've said before. It is mainly a Fugitive Doctor/Mels AU, but there is a little Fugitive Doctor/River and 12/River in there and quite a bit Mels & Karvanista and general Doctor & Lee & Gat & Karvanista & Mels. Just one big TARDIS team getting up to hijinks and basically everyone being on the verge of breakdown at any given moment. (mostly Gat, tbh, I am not gentle with the poor woman, but honestly Mels and the Doctor are hanging on by a thread, too and the Doctor then takes it out on Lee (and Gat). The only chill person is Karvanista - until he decides Mels is his pup now and he needs to look out for her. Because we all know looking out for River is a handful. She's the woman who jumps off skyscrapers expecting her mum to catch her somehow.)

For the AU, I think you should start with the fic Dance with Me (or: Selling the Cover for Gat). The works in the series are all written out of order so technically you can read them however you want. But this one shows pretty nicely what the series is about, I think. Plus, it's the one I wrote first. Storywise this is the turning point of 'friends to lovers' in the 'enemies to friends to lovers to strangers/enemies to lovers to strangers' narrative.

Oh yeah, btw, the works in the series are all finished but the series isn't. So everything's ready to be read in full but you cannot get the whole story yet. Their first meeting is missing for example and we don't know where they end up finally either. Well I do and we kinda do because of canon but the details are yet to be written.

Furthermore, there are bits of the Paternoster Gang in A Family Wedding, Somewhere in My Memory and The Responsible Thing to Do. I would mainly advise you to read the first two, neither really focus on them either but The Responsible Thing to Do only mentions Vastra briefly and that's it. I put it here anyway bc it is my first fic on ao3 and I think it is quite cute. (Also I kinda wanted you to know that I mention Vastra in my first fic on ao3 :) )

Family Wedding, as I may have said before, is my most popular fic and VERY fluffy. Unfortunately, it also merely mentions the Paternoster Gang but at least a few times and we kinda get to see them from afar. Big focus on 13/River and Jenny & Doctor and Jenny & the Ponds in this. Jenny, as in the Doctor's daughter, I have to admit I have written way more for her than for your Vastra's Jenny. But the two Jennys meet here - albeit very briefly - and get along great.

And Somewhere in my memory is again Doctor/River-centric but it's the fam 2.0 visiting the Paternoster Gang for Christmas so at least they show up properly. Not nearly enough but they all get their little scene - Jenny has a bit of a 'how are they suddenly hot wtf this feels wrong' problem with the Doctor being a woman and a 'get out of my kitchen asap' problem with the Doctor stealing cookies, Strax reacts to the Flux (not sufficiently, I've got thoughts on this that didn't make it into the fic, ask me about them if you like) and almost gets probic vented on accident and Vastra gets to trick the Doctor on behalf of her bestie River :) Since Christmas is coming up and it is my main Paternoster Gang fic, maybe it is fun for you? They mostly appear in chapter 1, so you could also just read that if you wanted to. I have to warn you chapter 1 ends on a cliffhanger, though.

Now I realise that I have just advised you to read my two most nsfw fics. Which maybe isn't too clever knowing your preferences. (I haven't ever written any actual smut but Somewhere in my memory comes close and Dance with me has a lot of internal Mels monologue - which includes a lot of checking out of the Doctor and accompanying thoughts (so this gets quite violent, too) .)

Hang on, let's pick out some nice gen fic as a third option, why don't we?

I've plugged A Bright Blue Box to you once before (Jenny & fugitive Doctor) and I still think that one's best for you. But I think you could also enjoy The Rose. It is one of my earliest works and a crossover of dw and The Little Prince. (You don't need to know The Little Prince to understand it, but should it be unfamiliar to you I would advise you to read it. It's beautiful and a little fairytale like.) It's just 12 being depressed about all his friends dying and meeting the Rose who has been waiting for her Prince to return but gets a sad and grumpy alien instead. I even made some art for that fic here - which I am currently using as my header btw - and it continues to be one of my favourites.

#thank you so much for the ask!!#Sorry this took a while!#And sorry this is so long #I love talking about my fics (don't we all?) :)#jennyandvastraflint

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gali-la · 2 months

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ooo questions for fanfic writers!! answer however many you'd like! <3

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits? 4. What detail in take everything with you (but leave the sun behind) are you really proud of? 15. What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written? 21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in Beneath the Skin, Through the Heart, what would it be? 42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

thank you!! ♥

So many juicy questions omg. i have to drop by your inbox too later >:) (once i check to see what's already been asked XD)

Okay!! for #2, oh boy, let's see...

the number one tag is "One Piece Bingo" with thirteen works, but by my decree, that doesn't count. MOVING ON, we've got "smut" with ten works and, yeah, that kind of fits. especially with the demon that was Kid week—hot damn, did i do smut for that. Next up is "Angst" with seven works, then "Established relationship" (6), "Alternate Universe—Modern Setting" (5), and finally, "Nightmares" (5). Honestly, the only one im surprised by there is "modern setting." i didn't think i wrote that many, though the rest of these sure fit imo. i do love my angst and smut XD

#4: What detail in take everything with you (but leave the sun behind) are you really proud of?

That's a tough one i do love this work a lot. hmm. I am gonna say im proud of the prose, though that's more of an overarching thing than a detail. Nonetheless, it's still a lil foray outside of my usual writing style and i enjoyed it <3

Now a detail so i can actually answer this question... im gonna say this bit towards the end:

"Her wings spread of their own accord, allowing her to feel the cold wind through her feathers once more. His first words to her came to mind. Hello, little bird. Would you like me to take you away from here? Yes, she chanted, yes, yes, please, anywhere you want to go."

It's precious to me. I don't know why,, it's got a lil undercurrent of "wow you are so fucked" but also peacefulness and i was jumping out of my skin to write it down <3

#15: What’s your favorite AU that you’ve written?

Oh my god this is so tough. It's stuck between two right now—one of them I've only written like, half a paragraph for (you know the one) so im gonna say it doesn't count yet.

Winner then has to be then my One Piece Demon Slayer AU. God, I wanna write more of this when i have the time, but right now, there's only one work out there in the realms: Pink is the Prettiest Color (if you check it out heed the tags!!). I just love both OP and KNY so much... and swords are so sexy... ANYWAY i've got like. a whole conspiracy for this au i believe ive cursed you with it in the past. SOMEDAY im gonna write more for it >:)

#21: If you wrote a “missing scene” in Beneath the Skin, Through the Heart, what would it be?

ahhhhhhh what a good question. I'm almost tempted to say "the wedding" but that's such a cliche answer let me think about it.

It's hard because that's one of my favorite works and I feel like it's pretty solid as is. Now, the question is—am i thinking of a scene i would like to have added, or a later addition/standalone that's connected but not required for the story? In the first case, I think a "experimenting with makeup" and such scene would have been cool. It's silly and small (and i have no fuckin clue how makeup works) I think it would have been a cool scene to further explore Rosi's newfound femininity. now, in the latter case, first thought that comes to mind is the honeymoon. skip the wedding, vows, whatnot, and straight to the married bliss. im a sap like that (also, more smut >:) I do love my katacora smut). I'm not sure if I'll ever add more to this, but these are tempting thoughts!!

Last but not least, #42: Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

ABSOLUTELY. I got one that is very nsfw so I will spare you that one—but another of my faves is a pair of comments on Pink is the Prettiest Color (1) (2). They were very sweet and flattering, of course, but I could also feel the love for the works and the love for both of the fandoms!! They melt me <3

Of course, all essay comments also hold a very dear place in my heart. they make me want to cry every time i see them—like, oh my god, someone enjoyed my work that much?? holy cow asdfsjfovhs

Thank you for the questions, my dear dear gen <3 these are so much fun to think about

(dang this post got long. Here's the questions if anyone wants to ask away/reblog for themselves!)

#ask game #thank you for the ask <3 #fanfic #questions for fanfic writers

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moonbinscirera · 1 year

Note

YOU'RE CUTE 🤩💕

Ahhgg, car trips can be a drag sometimes 😭 I'm pretty sure I haven't taken one since I've graduated so about 3 years tbh, I'm always driving these days so I get a little more car sick as a passenger. But I used to enjoy them a lot when I was younger! 😩

I think your hobby list is so good 💪🏼 ah but I feel the same way... Ooh fanfic 👁 do you have any particular favorite kind of genres you like to read? Oh and I've been looking at switches lately because they seem like a lot of fun! I've been trying to get into more fun games since breaks will be coming up from school 🤩

Video essays sound like a lot of fun ngl - I wish I had the attention span for that long 😩 that's super cute how excited you got for a 9 hour video omg but also it's skyrim so I can understand 😂 knitting! That's so cool, my mom was lamenting how she wanted to learn 😂 😂 😂 😂

I don't do much either 😭 I always feel so busy or tired to do things but I like to run my silly little tumblr blogs with content (gifs, fics, spamming the dash 😅) but I like to read all kinds of things (fics and books) but I haven't had as much time as I'd like 😔 maybe once I graduate, it'll free up some more hours in my day!

🫣☺️🫣☺️

i don't actually drive so im always a passenger dhdhdhddh so really i just play pretend at being a navigator but like we using a gps so-

oh im a fantasy lover i love magic and monsters and scifi stuff too! bonus points if the protag is a black girl and double points if shes black and gay but thats my criteria for regular books when its fanfic i like sickfics and injury ones like im an angst girl i love me a major character death and i want my fave to suffer... on the lighter side i like fake dating like so much like SO MUCH i still like magic aus too but ill read alotta stuff as long as nobody pregnant and like the fic has to BE SUPER well written for me to even THINK of touching a kid fic with a 10ft pole

like when i get into an ao3 tag i got a full blown system like first i do my favorite character depending on the size of the archive ill either filter it to just angst or the specfic type then read thru back to front once being selective then twice with lower standards and then a third time with desperation. then once ive done that i take off the angst tag and just leave all my exclude this filters on and just do the above with their entire archive. after that i do the same with the relationship i have identified as my favorite

its a proven system i miss very lil fics that way.... anyway

switches are fun! i actually have quite a few games onnit its nice to have a portable console and when u get games like botw onnit u can have good time sinks that are worth the money spent on it and btw.... u can get skyrim on it dgsnszhdn p sure

ehe~ there are video essays that are still really good that are under 40 mins or 30 mins even if several hours is really hard to do. i like ToonrificTariq he does cartoon analysis and theyre normally on that shorter side!

i wasnt necessarily good at knitting like i was really baysic at it tbh i just taught myself the very baysic knit stitch and i think how to do the reverse purl one maybe im still unsure if i actually did it.... funfact i taught myself while i was binge watching game of thrones (when it was still cool) so i missed the entirety of the first season cuz i was focused on my knitting but by the time i got to s2 i could knit reliably with out looking so i actually started watching the show.

:O ur a fic writer??? thats so cool! its amazing that u can write stories i cant wait to be able to see some of your writing 👀 and a studious homie!!! very fancy!! what are u studying if u dont mind me asking?

#query: complete #i feel like i was a lil more long-winded this time

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joheunsaram · 3 years

Text

glitter and disquiet (jjk) - 1

Part of the Sons of Midas Collab

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

Summary- Poised to inherit Korea’s largest gaming company in a few months, the world looks at Jeon Jungkook as a symbol of envy. Why wouldn’t they? He has everything, riches, power, and according to the rumour mill, endless women. Little do they know that his father’s company is on the verge of downfall, he barely has respect of his employees, and regardless of the rumours, he’s just a virgin saving himself for true love.

word count - 18.5k (buckle up buckaroooos!)

pairing- ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader

rating- R

genre- angst, smut, fluff, chaebol!au

warnings- virgin!Jungkook, mentions of cheating, divorce, open relationships, descriptions of anxiety and stress, car accident, hospitals, smut in the form of oral sex (m and f receiving), Jungkook is a hopeless romantic but wbk

a.n- Well here it is martians (did i make my own fandom name for a fandom that doesnt exist? yes, sir. ty marketing 101 in uni lmfao)! The collab that I forced all friends to do with me. Thank you @hobiandsprite, @taegularities, @oftenderweapons, @biaswreckme, @honeyj00ns for enabling my 3am thoughts. I truly love and appreciate you all!

This is an angsty piece that I challenged myself with because I wanted to create holistic characters rather than just focusing on romance (dw theres lots of that there too!).

I hope you enjoy this! See you next month for the second part hehe!

A big warm thank you to @oftenderweapons @hobiandsprite and @taegularities for beta reading this monster even though i didn’t finish it till a few hours ago! ily guys you keep me sane and happy 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

Sometimes, when he was all alone, or when he was working hard, Jungkook felt it. A little tug on his little finger. It didn’t hurt nor burn, but left behind tingles. A little spark that lifted his finger into the air involuntarily. It was pretty prominent when he was younger but not much anymore. Now, much to his disappointment, it came rarely.

His doctor said it was most likely muscle fatigue, but Jungkook liked to believe in old myths instead. He wasn’t superstitious, but he liked the idea that somewhere, there was another person whose pinky twitched the same time as his - that some ancient omnipotent god had tied the two of them up with an invisible thread. A thread that may tangle, or expand, or shorten, but would always lead him to the one he was meant to be with.

Perhaps this belief was silly, a dreamer’s hyperbole, but Jungkook really really wanted it to be true. He couldn’t understand the point of life otherwise. Would god really be cruel enough to create the crushing monotony of existence without creating the reprieve of a partner to bear it with?

His pinky twitched as it rested against the gold plated rim of the dainty white porcelain coffee cup his mother insisted on using. He would have to refill it at least three times to fill his daily morning dose of caffeine but he would never take away the little joy his mother got from having the family eat brunch on the vintage china she bought at an auction last month.

“Son, are you listening to me?” his father asked in a huff, breaking him out of his thoughts. He wasn’t thinking about much in particular, his eyes following the sunlight that filtered through the overhead umbrella that shaded the small family of three. It reflected off the little coffee pot in the centre of the round grand crystal table, creating little fragments of colourful beams that danced on the surface.

“Sorry dad,” he apologized with a little smile, his nose scrunching in a way he knew would endear his father. His mother laughed at his attempt at buttering up his father, who as if on cue rolled his eyes with a similar smile of his own.

“As I was saying before you ignored me, I think we should announce you taking over the company at your birthday party in a few months,” his father continued proudly, waving the butter knife he was using around with flair while his scone remained forgotten on the flowered side plate. Jungkook was used to his father’s certain excitement when it came to the family business.

“Do you think that’s wise? He’s barely done school!” his mother spoke, exasperated. Jungkook could see the lines on her face as she scowled at her husband. He frowned, only just realizing how old his parents looked, wrinkles much more prominent and frames slightly thinner than he remembered. The last time he had seen them hadn’t been that long ago, barely a few months, but he was always jarred by how different they looked from his recollections. His memories still held the images of them from when he was a teenager still living in the immaculately modern mansion he called home.

“Yes. There’s a reason I didn’t ask you, Kyungsoo,” he sneered at his wife, the previous softness in his features turning to stone. “This is my son and my company. He’s ready, aren’t you, Jungkook?”

Along with their frailty, their dislike of each other was also something that Jungkook seemed to always forget about. He knew his parents weren’t happy with each other — he had learnt that a long time ago. As a child, he used to hear them arguing, passive aggressively trying to cut each other’s self esteem with snide remarks, but in the rose colored crevices of his mind, he only remembered how his father had surprised his mother with a hundred roses in the living room when he was ten, or the way he’d once caught them dancing in silence in the living room when he was in highschool. Jungkook had no doubt in his mind that they loved each other, but he’d be amiss if he tried to convince himself that they liked each other.

He couldn’t help wishing that they found love again. It was a kid’s wish, he knew that, but he just wanted his parents to see the best in each other like they used to.

“Dad -”

“He’s our son, Jaehwa, let him enjoy his twenties. He doesn’t need to get right into work after graduating,” she scoffed, plucking the cloth napkin off her lap and tossing it beside her as she glared at her husband.

“Well, mom—”

“He’s smart and resourceful, he’s going to take over. The sooner the better and frankly I don’t understand why you have to—”

“Mom, dad. Please,” Jungkook interrupted the argument, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “Please don’t argue. Dad, yes I’d love to start whenever you want me to,” he said looking at his father who beamed smugly at his wife in response. “And mom, don’t worry. I am enjoying my twenties.” He patted his mother’s hand as she shook her head in defeat before heaving a sigh.

“Just so you know, it is your decision when to take over the company. You can take your time if you want,” Kyungsoo emphasized, a hand on his, her expression serious despite the way his father snorted.

“I know, mom. I want to,” he said with a smile, his hand holding on to hers.

“Well now that that’s settled, Jungkook, we have to discuss something very important.” His father seemed almost nonchalant, expertly ignoring the icy argument that had just occurred at the breakfast table, his tone once again light and airy.

“Jaehwa, let’s not discuss business at the table. We’ve barely seen Jungkook since he started school…”

“It’s okay mom,” Jungkook said before cutting into his poached eggs, taking a large bite, much to his mother’s disappointment. Jaehwa was not one to let go of a topic easily, and although Jungkook felt a twinge of guilt in his stomach at continuing to placate his father, he knew it was the easier thing to do. “Go ahead, dad.”

“That’s my son!” Jaehwa beamed, mirroring his son’s action and digging into his breakfast. “So as you know the ChampCon is not doing well. I think the first thing you can do to really get the board on your side is provide an alternate revenue generator.”

Jungkook categorically did not know that Champions Confederation, shortened by fans as ChampCon, was not doing well. ChampCon was the product of his father’s blood and tears and the golden product of Jaunty Games that launched more than two decades ago, and was the sole reason his family could afford their opulent lifestyle, raking in millions of dollars a year. The massive multiplayer online game had not only built their family’s empire, but had changed the way online games were perceived, garnering a cult following that soon became mainstream, with e-sport teams and cosplay events. Every new feature launched had millions of people reviewing it, making ChampCon trend worldwide almost weekly.

To hear that Jaunty’s darling was failing made Jungkook’s skin erupt in goosebumps, his stomach turning — a feeling he hadn’t experienced since his father sat him down the day before he started his MBA and explained in excruciating detail the duties of running such a massive business. He could feel his breaths getting shallower as his father explained how competitors were basically stealing the mechanics of the game and rebranding it as their own, how game mechanics couldn’t be copyrighted, so it was Jungkook’s responsibility to create an alternative that would not only help balance out the revenue lost, but maybe even turn out to be bigger than ChampCon itself.

As his father’s eyes glittered with pride, Jungkook felt his earlier confidence dwindling. He had so adamantly told his mother that he was ready to take over, but it took less than a few minutes for reality to come knocking at his door. Jungkook was not a game designer. Sure, he had great grades, his graduate degree wrapping up soon with almost a perfect GPA, but he hadn’t even touched a game in years. How was he supposed to apparently save his father’s legacy from biting the dust?

“So, any ideas yet?” his father prodded, finishing his monologue as he finished the last of his eggs.

“Dad… you literally just told me this. Give me time, please,” Jungkook joked, trying desperately to hide his panic behind an airy tone. He hadn’t noticed his mother had left the table, and with no appetite left, he thought the timing was perfect to escape. Pushing his plate away, he sipped the last of his orange juice, and with an excuse about an upcoming presentation, he headed to exit the terrace, hoping the way his legs were shaking was not too obvious. But, of course, his father wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t make a parting remark.

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something great!” his father cheered, wiping his mouth on a napkin, and keeping pace with Jungkook as he walked him to the front door. “And remember, we don’t do this for the money,” he began, only to be cut off by his son’s sigh.

“We do it for the Lees in accounting who have six kids to feed,” Jungkook finished his father’s catchphrase, feeling the pressure on his chest and the pulse of his veins increase as he hugged his father farewell, opting to text his mother instead of showing either of his parents what truly laid beneath the facade of their perfectly calm and responsible son.

----------

The din of the bar was a familiar reprieve from daily life, the little clinks of beer glasses as various men in suits celebrated after a hard day exchanging stocks or manipulating facts in courts. The mahogany of the room reflected the hazy lights from the various dimmed chandeliers that lined the ceilings, the air scented with alcohol and sandalwood. The bar catered to a much older crowd, men escaping from their wives, women looking to lure said men for their fortunes.

It wasn’t a place for the heirs of Korea’s largest companies to gather, yet there in the corner table, hidden from the cacophony of singles mingling near the bar, sat three. Their combined impact on Korea’s GDP could astound even the stoic of people, yet the air around them was relaxed, filled with laughter and banter.

“Hyung, I’m serious!” Jungkook whined, downing his fifth tumbler of whiskey in two hours. “I don’t think I can do it. I’m not… what’s the word?”

“An asshole?” Taehyung suggested, a wide smile on his face as he watched his friend struggle with his words.

“A misogynistic old man?” Candy chimed in, taking a sip of her scotch, as she grooved to the canned jazz that played through the speakers.

“Noona! Are you implying my dad’s a misogynist?” Jungkook questioned, mouth agape as he forgot his earlier worries in defense of his father.

“He did try to say that me learning Taekwondo was not becoming of a woman,” she replied, a fake sugary smile adorning her features as she antagonized her best friend.

“That was when you beat me up!” Jungkook protested, neglecting his drink to wave his hands in her direction as he always did when he got riled up, and oh did Candy love it.

“As I recall, you deserved it,” she sneered.

He did deserve it. Very much so.

Jungkook had just started highschool. A timid, scrawny version of the man that sat in the bar, and Candy had somehow taken pity on him and taken him under her wing. Jungkook would forever be grateful for her, for he owed her the friend group he called family now. However, their friendship didn’t truly take off until the day Candy showed up to school in a bastardized version of her uniform, one that not only led to her colourful nickname, but for Jungkook’s eyes to be glued to her chest, his palms sweating and heartbeat accelerating. He couldn’t help it. He was fourteen and his hormones were too novel to control yet. He could never have predicted that he would zone out of the conversation in favour of staring at her cleavage, his mouth suddenly much too dry.

What was not unpredictable was the way Candy swiftly, and with much too much force, slapped him across the face, rattling his brain and his heart all in one. Jungkook would never admit it out loud, but he thought that was the moment he found his first love, beaten into him; transferred from the heat of her palm to his soul.

It was a schoolyard crush, he supposed, but even now in the dim lights of the bar, he truly thought Candy was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, not only in looks but also in the ways she challenged him, which made him feel anew. Now his feelings were more like those of a far away admirer now, a confidant, a friend. He knew far too much about her love for Hoseok to ever have the hope that used to blossom in his chest in his teen years. That hope had slowly extinguished each time Hoseok broke her heart and she mended it, only to hand it back to the same man.

Now it simmered below his consciousness, a lingering emotion held together by the belief that if he was truly meant to be hers, she would find a way to him through the chaos of her life and the quiet of his.

“Can you stop bullying him?” Taehyung interjected, shaking his head but with a face full of mirth as he started to console his drunk friend. Candy merely stuck her tongue out in response, settling back into the leather booth as she signalled for the waitress to bring another bottle for the table.

“Jungkook, there’s nothing wrong with being worried about taking over, trust me,” Taehyung continued, placing a hand on Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook merely stared at his lap, the energy sapping from his body as the topic returned to his imminent CEO position. It is not that Jungkook didn’t think he was capable. He was objectively the most qualified person for the job, having trained for the role since birth. Not only did he have a perfect GPA from highschool upto grad school now, he had also been working at the company every Tuesday and Thursday since he completed his bachelors.

Jungkook had no doubt in his skill, but every time he thought about the looming position, he felt his chest cave in from the pressure — odd, unfounded insecurities taking seed in his mind, regardless of his friends’ efforts. He was lucky enough to be friends with people who shared the same fate, thrusted into greatness inherited, but he couldn’t help feeling unprepared by comparison. Almost all of his friends had inherited their companies by now, and not one of them seemed to bat an eyelash at the monumental responsibility. It made him feel more anxious; perhaps he was broken, maybe that’s why he seemed to be sprinting towards milestones that never arrived while his friends eased into them at a mere stroll.

“You’ll do great, Bunny. You’re perfect for the job,” Candy said gently, patting his shoulder, knowing full well the secrets of Jungkook’s lack of confidence. Though he appeared as a mysterious, stoic bachelor to the public, he was an open book to his close friends.

“I know. I know! It’s just… what if I’m the reason that we go under and people lose jobs, and I don’t know…” Jungkook trailed off, a tattooed hand running through his hair as he poured yet another finger of whiskey into his glass. He sighed as the liquid burned his throat, colouring his taste buds in a soothing bitter warmth.

“Oh god! Please tell me, Uncle Jeon isn't still giving you that speech?” Candy scrunched her nose, shaking her head.

“Ah! ‘We don’t do this for the money son’,” Taehyung chimed in, his voice much lower than his usual baritone in an attempt to mimic Jungkook’s father and chest puffed out in a fashion that could only be described as ‘uppity’.

“‘We do it for the Lees in accounting who have six kids to feed’” Candy completed the phrase, her mocking mannerisms matching those displayed by Taehyung, and in his inebriated mind, the only thing he could think of was to laugh — their impressions were pretty spot on. Mouth wide open in glee, Jungkook cackled, turning heads, as he attempted to catch his breath. He knew it was a good idea to go out tonight.

“I love you guys,” Jungkook said, smiling widely in a way that scrunched his nose and melted his friends’ hearts.

“We love you too, Jungkookie,” the two sang as they hugged him from both sides, squishing his broad frame till he felt small and coddled, love radiating through him. It reminded him of high school when Jungkook spent hours in his classes waiting for lunch or school to end so he could be reunited with his friends, who all somehow seemed to be much older than him. They always hugged him when he caught up to them, and although they were all grown adults and cheesy hugs were a thing of the past, it still filled him with the same sense of belonging. Like he could make any mistake and they would forgive him.

Jungkook felt lighter by the end of the night, not only because the alcohol running through his veins made him feel invincible, but because amidst the reminiscing and quips, the duo had built a strategy for him to start research into a new game. When Taehyung tucked him into his bed that night, Jungkook felt ready, the upcoming responsibility morphing from an insurmountable burden into an exciting challenge. And if there was one thing that Jungkook enjoyed, it was a challenge.

-----------

“Good morning, Mr Jeon!”

“Would you like a coffee?”

“No appointments for you today.”

“The numbers for this quarter are on your table.”

Jungkook smiled at his staff, still wondering why in the world his father needed a fleet of assistants, including a Chief of Staff for some reason. It seemed extremely frivolous, but he supposed it helped lessen his workload.

Settling into his chair, he turned on his computer. Last night’s drinks took their revenge as he massaged his temples, willing the pain to subside. For a fleeting moment he wondered how much of a fool he’d acted like in front of Candy. He had no reason to be haunted by his actions, he remembered the night perfectly, but he still felt an ache in his heart. He sighed at the knock at his door, curtly granting permission to the visitor to enter.

“Hey Jungkook, how are you today?” His father’s, well soon, his Chief of Staff, Seungwon, walked in with a pile of documents, placing them on the desk in front of him.

“I’m good, uncle Seungwon. Just trying to brainstorm for the new game, you know how it is,” Jungkook replied with a small smile.

“Ah I told you! Call me Seungwon at work! You don’t want to lose your authority now do you?” Seungwon joked, watching the endearing way the young man in front of him got slightly flustered at the request. He had known Jungkook since he was practically a toddler, waddling around in his father’s office, pretending to read documents and attend phone calls. For the most part, Jungkook considered him a second father. Seungwon was the first employee his father had hired after the initial founding team, and in a sense he had always been around, first as the general admin officer for the company, and then as his executive assistant after the company grew.

“Okay, Mr Cha,” Jungkook shook his head with a smile. “What do you have for me today?”

“These are the numbers for ChampCon for the past ten years, including every new feature introduced and the analysis of how well it did or did not do. Jaehwa asked me to make sure you have them, so you can brainstorm better.”

“Yay! I’m so excited,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he looked at the giant pile in front of him dejectedly. This was definitely worse than all the readings he had to do this semester. He kind of wished he could show this to those Instagram entrepreneur influencers that talk about the glamour of being a CEO.

“I suggest you get yourself a coffee to start — and stop thinking about girls,” Seungwon winked at him as Jungkook blinked in response. How did he know? As if reading his thoughts, Seungwon gestured to the notebook under Jungkook’s arm and he groaned, looking at the multiple doodles of little toffees he had subconsciously made. Deciding to take his advice, he followed him out of the office in search of coffee, needing a short break to reset his brain.

He headed to the cafeteria the floor below, taking the stairs to get his blood pumping a little. He felt like there was sludge in his veins from last night. However, he had barely opened the thick metal door to the staircase when echoing voices met his ears. He didn’t stay for long after, but the words they said were embedded into his consciousness.

“Fucking chaebols. Does Jeon really think that useless son of his will be able to handle the company?”

“I swear he’s gonna ruin it before he hits puberty.”

“Rich people are so fucking ignorant.”

“I bet he can’t even name one feature we’ve released.”

“I’m seriously thinking of quitting once he takes over. Better quit than lose my job when he makes Jaunty bankrupt, right?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw, his tongue poking into his cheek, as he briskly walked towards his office. Do it for the Lees in accounting? They could just go fuck themselves. He could feel the venom burn his chest as he sat in his chair, refusing their words to bore into his self esteem. He knew he was the best for the job, he knew he could do it. He would prove them wrong. Just imagining the look on their faces when he revealed a new game that would leave ChampCon in the dust had his skin on fire, sending his previous motivation into overdrive.

He didn’t know how long he sat in his chair, dissecting the numbers for his company from the past ten years, but by the time he had compared all the analytics between competitors in the market, the sun was already an afterthought in the starry sky and his notebook was overfilled with potential strategies. This was what Jungkook excelled at, figuring out how to gain market shares and cut the competition. And at the moment, his greatest competition was Saga Games, an indie company that only had one game, which was a blatant copy of ChampCon, only with quirkier, more artsy characters instead of his plain champions. The game, Reverie, had gone viral on social media, targeting a niche market of mostly female gamers sorely underrepresented in his own games.

Before he knew it, he was sending away his staff for the day, deciding to hole up in his office to watch videos of the gameplay, noting the differences between his game and theirs. It was odd how wholesome the community seemed to be, barely any swearing or spats even in the unmoderated chats. He hadn’t touched a video game in years, but for this he would consider going back.

Scrolling through hundreds of videos he only found half-assed play throughs, which was good to note the actual features of the game, but not for what he needed — a qualitative look at how people were feeling about Reverie. Glancing at the clock in the corner of his desk, he realized it was almost 11, but just as he was about to give up for the night, his eye caught a familiar face.

It was you. Dressed in a baggie black Supreme hoodie and flannel pajamas, you were sat on a sickeningly pink chair, embellished with faux fur, as you played the game, a set of deep red headphones over your ears. He blinked at the screen in disbelief. There was no way you were a streamer.

Jungkook had known you for over two years. You were in every single one of his classes, doing the same concentration of management strategy with your MBA as him, and you made it a point to rile him up in every single class. Be it using Jaunty Games as a case study for your presentations and looking at him every time you pointed out a flaw in the company, or gloating to him about your better grades. You were so childish that Jungkook couldn’t stand to be in the same room as you. You brought out his stupid, childish side too. His need to prove you wrong and to beat you often led to him arguing with you despite the way your classmates groaned and rolled their eyes.

He remembered when he first met you the summer before he started his degree. It was a balmy, sunny day — the kind that feels like humidity is hanging in the air making it thick and sticky. Although he hated the heat, some idiotic part of his brain thought that running in the humid air would probably add more resistance to his runs. It did not. As he was finishing his final lap around the university, sweating buckets, his t-shirt stuck to his back, he heard a loud bicycle bell, the shrill breaking through the pop music blasting through his earphones. However, the warning bell was for naught, because before he even looked up, he was barrelled over by you.

Luckily you had swerved your bicycle so it did not hit him, but in doing so you had somehow launched yourself on to him. He groaned as his butt met the sidewalk, arms automatically going around you to ensure you didn’t hurt yourself. Momentarily flustered by how attractive he found you, Jungkook was quick to recover, clearing his throat to ask you if you were okay.

You simply brushed off the dirt, and stood up with a grin. He blinked up at you, dazed by the sun shining behind you making you look almost ethereal. He grabbed your hand when you offered it, ready to waive your apologies away. For the first time in his life, Jungkook felt the need to make the first move - make any move really. He was ready to throw a cheesy line your way, ask you to treat him to a coffee to make up for your blunder.

However, much to his utter disappointment, you never apologized. In fact, you scolded him to watch where he was going, your bright smile never disappearing as you gave him a couple of finger guns before getting back on your bicycle and riding away. Jungkook just stood there, staring after you with a bruised shin and a bruised ego to match.

Perhaps that’s why Jungkook suddenly stopped scrolling when he saw you in the thumbnail, the same wide smile making his heart race for reasons unknown. He didn’t believe in lust, that was for the weak. He had learnt his lesson when Candy beat him up, but he couldn’t help clicking on the video, curious as to why the loud, argumentative woman in his lectures would be making videos playing games.

“And although the aesthetics do make this game very visually appealing, I think the gameplay is more advanced than others in the market. You see how there’s a lack of glitches even though there are a hundred thousand people online? That’s wild!” Your voice echoed through his empty office, as you continued to break down how the game was built and why it was garnering such a large audience, and Jungkook was hooked. He had never paid attention to what you said, usually waiting for you to make a point he could contest, never absorbing the actual content of your usual arguments together. Now that he was paying attention, he understood why you were competing for valedictorian with him. You were eloquent, knowledgeable, but unlike Jungkook, the way you spoke was almost charismatic, and before he knew it he had watched the entire forty minute video.

Your subscriber count was also no joke. If anything, you were a celebrity with over 30 million subscribers on Youtube, and many more on Instagram. He smiled at your username, callmetiger95, it seemed fitting for the fiery woman in his lectures, even though your online persona was more meek and sweet. He spent the night watching your videos, when an idea popped into his head.

He was going to partner with you to create a new game.

----------

You frowned as you looked at your laptop at the end of the lecture, your Youtube Partner page pulled up. Your last video seemed to have been doing worse than the one before, in fact it did it even worse than the one posted around the same time last year, even though you had double the subscribers now. The stats weren’t terrible, especially given the ad revenue from the video was enough to cover rent for the month, but you were irked. It was the first video you had made to branch out your brand, choosing to talk about your life and grad school, rather than playing the latest trending video game. Although you knew that most of your subscribers only wanted to see you play, disappointment still gnawed at your gut.

“Hey, Tiger,” a familiar voice called from behind you, causing your frown to deepen. Of course it was the school playboy, Jeon Jungkook. You rolled your eyes as you closed your laptop, before packing it away in your backpack.

“What do you want, Jeon?” you asked, turning around, watching him leaning against the chair next to you, dressed in a suit like the rest of the class, but looking far better than the rest of the guys. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought he was a model.

“So how come you never told me you were this big shot gamer?” he asked with a smile, his hair falling into his eyes. You hadn’t seen him smile this genuinely at you before, and your eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Because I don’t like you,” you replied plainly, shrugging, and only slightly regretting the way his smile fell from his face.

“Oh… okay,” Jungkook said, a hand reaching to touch his ear that seemed to be a vivid shade of red. Jungkook didn’t know why he thought he could just pretend the two of you were more than classroom rivals and get away with it. He moved away a little to let you pass, gathering his nerves, before he spoke again. “I want to hire you.”

You blinked at him, frozen on the spot by the casual job offer. You had enough sense to notice how nervous Jungkook looked all of a sudden, visible beads of sweat forming on his hairline despite the air conditioning in the room being too high.

“Just because you found out I’m popular on Youtube, you want to hire me?” you asked incredulously.

“No,” Jungkook was quick to disagree, waving his hands in front of you, before deflating. “Yes… It’s just, I need your help,” he said, a lip between his teeth as he averted your gaze. Jungkook had no idea why his heart was beating so fast, but then again he had never been one to ask for help, especially from his widely attractive antagonizers.

“Is this some fuckboy move of yours? Offer me a job to get into my pants?” You raised an eyebrow and Jungkook couldn’t help the little giggle that escaped his lips at the absurdity of your words. Him? A fuckboy?

“I’m not a fuckboy, Y/N,” he said, nose upturned at the unfair label. He knew that everybody thought him as some player, but the truth was that it was just a widely inaccurate rumour his childhood friend Jimin had started during undergrad that seemed to have snowballed into his reputation. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“Whatever, Jeon. Answer’s still the same. I don’t need a job,” you replied coolly, turning and walking towards the door.

“Come on, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you however much you want!” Jungkook walked briskly to catch up easily to you. He didn’t know why he was being so insistent, especially since he was supposed to hate you after he had overheard you make some pretty terrible comments about him at a party once. All he knew was that you seemed to have insights that no one else had and he needed to learn them.

“Typical. Not everything can be bought, especially not me.” You rolled your eyes at him, opening the doors to the lecture theatre, but only wide enough for yourself, taking in a little too much joy in the way he struggled to get his stupidly broad frame through the small gap.

“That’s not what I meant. Come on, Y/N. At least hear me out,” he almost begged. It was widely out of character from the Jungkook you knew. Usually, he was all cold stares and dry remarks. The only time you had seen his expression change from serious or zoned out was when you ran into him at a trashy frat party, but you don’t like to think about that night.

“Nope,” you repeated, getting a little annoyed by his constant attempts.

“I’ll convince you,” he said as he finally stopped following you, jaw clenched in determination that only made you roll your eyes.

“Try your best, Jeon.” You waved at him with a laugh as you made your way to the library to work on your upcoming presentation.

And so he did.

Over the next two week, he tried everything in his power to convince you. At first, it was small. He would bring you a coffee to your lectures, black with one sugar, just the way you liked it and you were afraid to ask him how exactly he knew your order. Much to Jungkook’s chagrin, his daily coffees were rewarded with another rejection.

He decided to up his game. Knowing that your next project for Business Ethics required partners, he walked into your Assistant Professor’s office with five hundred thousand won in cash in an attempt to convince her to pair the two of you up. He did everything the movies showed him, placing the not very subtle wad of cash in his palm as he shook her hand while iterating how much he would appreciate it if he was partnered with you. He almost got suspended on the spot. Good thing he was top of his class in negotiations, otherwise the tabloids would have had a field day.

He sat next to you at every lecture, much to your annoyance. He bought you lunch everyday, ranging from pizza to sushi to even some homemade ramen that you were sure one of his home chefs had prepared. Much to your obstinate resolve, he was wearing you down. Day after day, you were growing increasingly endeared by how he would try to find a new way to convince you. Once he explained what he needed your help with, you were curious, not above admitting that brainstorming a new game with the future CEO of the world’s biggest gaming company sounded extremely fun.

Your resolve was finally broken when he took to social media, leaving comment after comment on your videos and photos. Usually you would never notice something like that, bombarded with thousands on the daily, but the man had the audacity to use his company account. Of course you would notice if Jaunty Games was suddenly commenting “Come on Tiger! Say yes!” on every video you had ever uploaded.

“Okay fine! I’ll do it, you absolute insane person!” you exclaimed when he once again started listing his pro-cons list before class.

“You will?” he asked, beaming widely, his nose scrunched, and you had to resist the urge to put on your sunglasses with how bright his smile was.

“On one condition,” you replied, just as the professor walked in and unceremoniously started the lecture, ignoring the way Jungkook silently clapped in glee. “You have to beat me in ChampCon.”

Jungkook’s face fell just in time for the smug smile to appear on yours.

----------

Walking into Jungkook’s apartment, you were taken aback by the almost humble abode. Of course, located in Hannam the Hill, you had expected it to be lavish, but other than the large size, the apartment was simple. Late afternoon light streamed in through the floor to ceiling windows that lined the west end of the apartment, bathing the living room in a glow that seemed to be absorbed by the all black furnishings.

It was an open concept, the narrow hallway from the front door leading into the living room that was flanked on one side by windows and the other by a kitchen island, and another hallway that you assumed led to the bedrooms. The walls were adorned by various grayscale photographs that you assumed were taken by some of the best in the world.

“So welcome,” he said enthusiastically, leading you to the plush leather couch in the centre of the room, his laptop already displaying the game, before heading to the kitchen and returning with a tray piled high with cookies and popcorn. “Are you ready for me to win?” he asked with a cocky smirk, even though he knew he stood absolutely no chance of winning.

“Why? Did you boot up some secret cheat codes?” you asked, taking your laptop out of your bag and setting it up on the mahogany coffee table, smirking at the way he scowled in response. It was almost adorable.

“I don’t need cheat codes to beat you.” He most definitely did, but Jungkook would never resort to cheap tricks to win. His pride would never let him.

“Sure, we’ll see about that,” you smirked, cracking your neck before starting a classic game, hiding the fact that you were already at the Master ranking.

Despite your earlier teasing, you found it surprising that Jungkook was actually terrible at ChampCon, often accidentally hitting his own team members and missing marks, in spite of having multiple expensive add-ons. How could someone whose father created the game be so utterly bad? It took barely fifteen minutes for the game to end, with Jungkook’s teammates spamming the chat with insults and him falling into the couch in defeat.

“Oh my god! How are you this bad?!” You laughed. You almost wished he had used some cheat code. It felt as if you were taking advantage of him.

“I don’t play, okay?” he huffed, looking away, and you had an urge to wrap him in your arms. That was new. Usually you just wanted to bully him more.

“Fine. I’ll help you with your project,” you said, not wanting to see him look so dejected any more. Your words worked wonders, though, because as soon as they left your mouth, Jungkook sat up in shock, doe-like eyes wide in surprise.

“You will?”

“Honestly, you’re so bad at this game, you need all the help you can get,” you joked, expecting him to throw an insult back at you, but all he did was smile softly, a little ‘thank you’ leaving his lips and making your heart oddly skip a beat.

Time passed by quickly after, the two of you spending a few hours talking about what he thought was wrong with his games and figuring out what the competition was doing better. Jungkook had already done a little too much research on the topic over the weeks he’d spent trying to convince you, but he pretended not to know much, opting to hear your explanations instead. He enjoyed the way you would go off on tangents about societal values and norms that influenced the market. It was interesting hearing about video games not just from their mechanics but from a more sociological view, interspersed by philosophical insights as you quoted Bauman and Malinowski with ease. He wondered why he had written you off based on an inebriated overheard conversation.

-------

Jungkook was nervous. What started as a way to finally get over Candy had manifested into a full blown crush. A crush that seemed to be requited? The moment you had run him over, he’d been intrigued. The confident, indifferent attitude you possessed had him hooked, and it only escalated when he discovered that you were in every single one of his classes.

He didn’t even want to come to this party - only deciding to leave his apartment after Seokjin had jokingly said he was too scared to go, and Jungkook wanted to prove him wrong. Donning his leather jacket and usually black jeans and shirt, he entered the overflowing house that stood a little ways from the university, a six pack in hand and nerves high. Although Jungkook’s training had made him exceptional at interpersonal relationships, he still found socializing daunting, especially without the comfort of his usual crew.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he sipped his beer, hoping someone would start a conversation so he could feel less awkward. Perhaps someone would ask him to share one of the beers he had brought. Perhaps someone from class would be there. Perhaps you would come up to him.

“Hi, you’re Jungkook right?” A sugary voice broke him out of his thoughts as he looked at the woman in front of him. Dressed in a lace bodysuit that emphasized her curves and jeans that made Jungkook gulp, the stranger gave him a wide smile, her teeth blinding.

Jungkook hummed in response, finding it hard to speak, feeling so out of his element that his grasp on his native language disappeared. She didn’t seem too put off by his sudden muteness, instead closing the gap between them, her finger slowly trailing from his collar to his torso.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, okay?” she whispered leaning into him, her breath ghosting his ear and making his skin erupt in goosebumps. “I want you to take me upstairs and fuck my brains out.”

He couldn’t help but recoil in response. Ever since Jimin had started the rumour that he was some deity in bed in undergrad, Jungkook was used to offers like this, but usually they weren’t so… forward. He wasn’t a complete prude, of course, but the thought of having sex with a stranger whose name he didn’t even know made him extremely uncomfortable, and the way she was touching him suddenly made his skin crawl.

“No, thanks,” he said, stepping away from her, feeling a little guilty as her confidence crumbled in front of him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t do that,” he clarified, only for her to snort, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t have to lie, you can just say you don’t want to,” she sneered before walking away, leaving Jungkook confused, trying to figure out how to explain that he didn’t mean to be condescending. Before he could decide whether going after her was a good idea, your voice interrupted his inner monologue.

“Wow, already breaking hearts. It’s barely midnight,” you quipped, sipping on something out of a disposable cup, and all of Jungkook’s worries disappeared, his heart skipping a beat. Before he could defend himself, you started giggling at what he assumed was his shell shocked expression. “Oh, is that Lowenbrau?” you asked, picking a bottle from next to him and examining the label.

“Yeah… you want some?” Jungkook asked and was greeted by a grin from you as you helped yourself to a bottle, uncapping it by hooking the cap on the counter and hitting the top in a way that was far too attractive for Jungkook to fathom.

The conversation after that flowed seamlessly, the two of you enjoying beers and then some tequila that was left abandoned by someone. You talked about your classes, making fun of your Ethics professor who suspiciously enough defended dictators a little too much. It had at least been an hour and Jungkook was ecstatic he had been goaded into attending this party. He enjoyed the way your eyes sparkled with mirth when you leaned in and mimicked the fighting couple at the door, making fake dialogue to make him laugh. He liked that you seemed so at ease; it made him comfortable, his usual tongue-tied self around you disappearing in the alcohol bubbling in his veins. That is until, after a joke, you leaned into him giggling, your hand covering your mouth and he was mesmerized by the little laugh.

You paused then, your eyes looking into his, and his heart stopped. This was the moment. The moment where he should lean over and kiss you, but he had never felt more scared, his hand in a fist as he tried to control the way it was trembling. He felt so out of his depth, like a scared little kid. He had kissed others before, but he knew what was expected. He was expected to sweep you off your feet, kiss you and then ravish you - and suddenly he felt like he was going to throw up. He was still in love with Candy, he realized, ignoring the way his heart sank at the thought, despite it sprinting in his chest.

“Sorry. I don’t want this,” he said abruptly, pushing you away, not missing the way you scowled at him, obviously offended. He moved quickly, making his way to the thankfully unoccupied bathroom and emptying his stomach’s contents in the toilet. After a few long minutes of catching his breath, and using the mouthwash he found under the sink to rinse his mouth, Jungkook looked at himself in the mirror. He needed to get over Candy. Candy was not his soulmate, he reminded himself. His soulmate would only look at him, not be drowning in men in a foreign country trying to distract herself from the fact that she was still in love with his hyung years after he left her. With his rationality returning, he remembered the way you made him feel - safe, even when you made his heart flutter, and it made his decision for him. He was going to apologize to you, and he was going to stop comparing every single woman he met to his childhood crush.

With determined steps he walked back into the party, his eyes scanning the room for you, and his face lighting up when he finally saw you talking to a group of your friends, laughing and drunkenly gesturing with your hands. He smiled softly, making his way towards you, hoping you would give him another chance. However, as soon as he heard what you were laughing about, his face fell, his chest heaving in a way that felt like he had just been stabbed.

“Jungkook? Fuck that entitled himbo. I could never like him,” you giggled in that pretty way that always had Jungkook weak, except this time it made venom rise within him. “You think I’m gonna fall in love with a chaebol? All those guys are spoiled fuckboys. No, thank you!”

----------

It was almost midnight by the time the two of you decided to break for dinner with a game of Mario Kart. You screamed joyously as your Princess Peach overtook Jungkook’s Bowser once again, feeling extra evil and deciding to leave a banana peel in your wake that he once again missed dodging. You were laughing, and couldn’t remember the last time you’d had this much fun. You hadn’t spent time with him since the party that soured your interactions two years ago and you regretted writing him off.

“Another?” he asked gleefully as the screen showed him in third and you at first, wanting to beat you at least once. With years spent studying games, he had almost forgotten how fun it could be to actually play them with someone. Sure, he occasionally convinced Seokjin and Taehyung to play with him but they never wanted to play something other than ChampCon and that had dampened his enthusiasm.

“You’re on,” you replied with a grin, forgetting about times when just his presence had made you annoyed. However, before the two of you could have another race on rainbow road, his phone rang. He apologized as he picked it up.

“Hello?” Jungkook answered cheerfully, only for his smile to fall as the person on the line continued. You couldn’t help but mirror his frown as he ran his hand through his hair, his lips pressed together. “Are you sure?” he asked before getting on his feet, looking around the room, the phone still glued to his ear, listening intently as he bit his lip.

When he hung up, he started running around his apartment, ignoring the way you called out his name. Jungkook’s heart felt like it was in his stomach as a sweat started appearing on his hairline, his breaths getting shallower. He couldn’t find his car keys. Where the fuck were his car keys?

He was panicking, he knew it was obvious, and he startled when he felt your fingers around his bicep. “Jungkook, what’s wrong?” you asked carefully, your face screwed in concern. It took him a minute to calm down, to force his breath to return to normal. He should stop looking for his keys and call a cab. He was being a bad host, he should probably tell you why he had to leave but his throat felt like it was closing up, and it was taking all his brain power to not break down in front of you.

“Where do you need to go?” you asked, apparently much more astute than he ever gave you credit for. You grabbed both his shoulders to make him look at you, and he felt a little calmer with your touch, finally speaking one word.

“Hospital,” he said hoarsely and that’s all it took for you to grab your purse from the coffee table and his hand, moving the two of you outside his apartment, leaving behind all your other stuff in a rush to help Jungkook reach his destination.

----------

“Where is she?” Jungkook yelled, his voice echoing around the quiet lobby as he ran towards Jimin, his friend looking stoned faced. His breathing had calmed down, but he was still worried. He had spent the entire car ride biting the inside of his cheek, trying to keep a cool facade in front of you, but he just needed to see her to make everything better. As soon as he could see her, he’d be okay.

Jimin led the two of you to the private wing of the hospital, the elevator ride a little too long for Jungkook’s liking. As soon as he arrived at the door, he pulled it open, ignoring Seokjin and Seungwon who sat on the couch, his eyes lasering in on the body lying in bed. Her eyes were shut, her head heavily bandaged with a tube attached to her nose to support her breathing. He could hear the heartbeat from the monitor as it rang eerily through the room.

You felt out of place, watching Jungkook standing motionlessly next to the woman attached to wires. You wanted to reach out to him, an urge to comfort him running through you. You had barely taken half a step in his direction, when a tall, wide shouldered man stopped you.

“Thank you for bringing him here,” he said politely, his hand raised in front of him. “But I think it’s best if you leave.” Although his tone was not cold, you felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on you. Of course you should leave. You and Jungkook were barely amicable, it seemed awfully presumptuous to think that he would need you to comfort him when he had his friends around him.

“Mom?” Jungkook spoke for the first time, his voice broken, and with a heavy heart you left, not wanting to see him so vulnerable without his explicit consent.

Jungkook could feel his eyes prickling as he held his mother’s hand. She seemed so fragile, her face bruised from the accident. Jimin had informed him that she had been in a car crash over the phone, but he had hoped that she was okay — that she got a few scratches — but the way her skin paled under the fluorescent lights and her shallow breaths puffed through, she looked on the edge of life.

When Seokjin put his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder he couldn’t help himself, turning around to embrace his friend, uncaring how his tears stained his shirt as he sobbed into his shoulder. He felt scared, guilty that the last time he met his mother he had left without saying goodbye.

“Hyung, what if… she dies?” Jungkook spoke his fears out loud, his voice muffled as Seokjin shushed him, hugging him tight. Seokjin was always the person Jungkook pestered, often annoying him and stealing free meals from him, but he was also his closest friend, one that he could always rely on.

“Jungkook, she’s going to be okay. Jimin has his best doctors on it, don’t you, Jimin?” Seokjin said gently, looking over to the blonde in the corner who seemed to be deep in thought. Jimin looked up at the call of his name, making his way over, patting Jungkook’s shoulder softly.

“She’s going to be okay. They put her in an induced coma, she’s just sleeping. She hit her head, but she’s okay,” Jimin reassured, and Jungkook heaved in relief. His mother was ill, but she was going to be okay. He repeated the phrase in his head as Seokjin guided him to the couch, his arms still around him as Jungkook gathered his thoughts, silently crying with his head on the elder’s chest.

He was sipping the water Seungwon got him as his father arrived, his state similar to Jungkook’s ten minutes ago. However, unlike Jungkook, his father didn’t go straight to his wife, making his way to Seungwon who sat next to Jungkook.

“You son of a bitch!” he yelled, grabbing the taller man from his collar and forcing him to his feet. “How fucking dare you?”

Jungkook had never seen his father so uncomposed and as he saw him lift a fist into the air to take an aim at his employee, he sprung into action, holding him back with Seokjin’s help. He knew Seungwon had been driving before the accident, but he didn’t understand why his father was so angry at him just doing his job. It’s not like Seungwon could foresee a drunk driver losing control of their car. However, his father’s next words made everything crystal clear.

“Just because I let you date her doesn’t mean you can kill her, you fucking scum!” he seethed, and Jungkook had never heard such malice before, his eyes widening in shock as he looked at Seungwon, who seemed to take the insults in stride, his face neutral.

“Jaehwa, please calm down,” he pleaded to his friend.

“Calm down? Fuck you,” Jaehwa responded, despite his breathing now significantly more relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” Seungwon responded, his face finally cracking as tears manifested in his eyes. Before Jungkook could realize what was happening, his father wiggled out of his grip and hugged his friend. Seokjin looked at Jungkook confused, but he was equally perplexed at the sudden turn of events.

----------

Seokjin had driven Jungkook home that night, but he couldn’t fall asleep, opting to sit in his kitchen with a drink, staring at the wall, trying to make sense of his parent’s relationship. He knew it wasn’t the best. He had been witness to countless fights over the years, but he was convinced that they were in love. He couldn’t wrap his around the fact his mother was cheating on his father, and that he knew.

He was startled to hear a knock at the door.

“Jungkook, can I come in?” his father asked, as soon as he opened the door. Grabbing another scotch for him, Jungkook made his way to the living room where Jaehwa sat. The two drank in silence for a while, till one glass turned into two which turned into the bottle being brought to the table. His father was the first one to speak.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about it this way,” he said, his voice a little hoarse from not being used in a while. Finally, Jungkook turned his head towards him and noticed the frown on his face, an older rendition of the one on his own face, and though usually he would feel empathetic, pity for the man who raised him, but the defeated expression only made a rage boil inside him. How could he let that happen to him? Let her get away with this? Hug the man who stole her?

“Why are you still with her? She cheated on you, dad!” he exclaimed, not having the foresight to control his volume as Jaehwa winced.

“We separated a long time ago, son,” he admitted quietly, and Jungkook felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He should’ve noticed if his parents were separated, right? Perhaps he was a bad son for never noticing, and the thought made his anger shift from his father towards himself.

“When?”

“As soon as you moved out…”

“Six years ago?” he questioned in disbelief, his mouth hanging open as he stood up, not knowing how to expend the sudden rush of energy in his body other than to start pacing.

“We didn’t want to burden you with it until we had to,” Jaehwa said, a hand reaching out towards his son, but Jungkook just glared in return, not stopping his movements as he strode up and down the room.

“How could you not tell me?” he yelled, “All this time? And she’s with uncle Seungwon?” He was irritated. It felt as if he had walked into some twisted television drama made as fodder for lonely housewives. How could a secret this big be hidden for this long?

“Jungkook… son… she’s happy,” Jaehwa answered with a sad smile, his eyes on how his fingers touched the rim of his glass, swirling a drop of whiskey that stuck to it. He had never seen his father like this: he looked sad, defeated, resigned.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked, the fight in his system giving way to a mourning for the only long term relationship he had known in his life. He sat next to his father, staring intently as he nodded, his lips in a thin line.

“We still love each other, but somewhere along the way, we just couldn’t be together.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If you love someone you fight for them! You don’t give up, dad.” Jungkook was getting frustrated now, his emotions a flurry as he tried to make sense of the bombshell his father had just dropped on him.

“You’re still young, son,” his father chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “Sometimes love’s not enough.”

“That’s not true. You both gave up,” Jungkook retorted stubbornly as his father smiled at his naivety.

“And sometimes that’s for the best,” Jaehwa responded, patting his son on his thigh.

The two talked for an hour after, his father explaining that to him, love meant letting each other be happy, even if it means it’s with someone else. Jungkook accepted the end of his parents’ marriage but even after his father tried to explain his view on love, he could not understand him. Love was for forever. It wasn’t a burning of emotions, he knew that. That was lust. Love was a choice. To Jungkook, love was choosing the person you loved every time, even when it was hard. If someone didn’t love you a hundred percent, then they didn’t love you.

He was hurt, confused, and frustrated at the choices his parents made — choices that he was convinced were wrong. But most of all he was angry. Angry at his parents and furious at Cha Seungwon who paraded around him as a second father, giving him advice and listening to his problems for years while conspiring to ruin his parents’ relationship.

----------

Jungkook: Thank you for driving me yesterday. I appreciate it. I have packed up your stuff. I can drop it off if you’d like. Y/N: Don’t worry about it. I can pick it up. Y/N: I know it’s not my place, but is your mom feeling better? Jungkook: She’s doing well. Thank you. Y/N: I’m glad. What time do you want me to come by? Jungkook: 10pm. I’m sorry if that’s too late. I can drop it off. Y/N: It’s fine. I’ll see you at 10. Jungkook: Thank you.

----------

You stood outside Jungkook’s door, feeling extremely awkward. You knew you had no reason to feel that way, but you wanted to comfort him for some reason. You felt a pull towards him, a need to make him smile. That was probably the reason why you decided to spend three hours today trying to bake him cookies. Your mom always baked you cookies whenever you were upset, and so you decided to do the same for Jungkook. You didn’t even know if he ate gluten, or sugar for that matter, but here you were, standing in front of his door with a plastic container almost overflowing with chocolate chip cookies.

You knew he would be wondering why it was taking you so long to come up despite having been let in by the concierge, so you shook your head to dismiss the weirdness of you trying to start some sort of friendship, and knocked.

Jungkook greeted you with a stoic expression, and you didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes. It had been two days since you’d rushed him to the hospital. Sure, living without your laptop for that long was a nightmare, but you were too busy worrying about this stranger. He had told you his mother was doing well, but you still feared he had lied. Looking at him now, you were starting to be convinced you were correct.

Dressed in baggy sweat pants and an equally baggy black t-shirt, his hair was dishevelled as he invited you in. The living room itself was a stark opposite of what it had been a few days ago. There were half-eaten take-out containers on the table, empty bottles of beer surrounding the couch, which held a blanket and a pillow as if he had been sleeping on it. However, what really caught your eye was the large whiteboard in the middle of the room, decorated in printouts of various games and barely legible notes on said games.

“Jeon, you okay?” you asked apprehensively as Jungkook moved a giant binder that was placed above your backpack. Before he reached for your bag, he snapped his fingers, walking over to the board and scribbling another note on it. You repeated your question and he looked up at you, as if just registering that you were here.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you,” he said cordially, and you felt cold. The two of you had never been friends, but you had never been polite either. You had only two moods: passive aggressively egging each other on, or enjoying conversations about games. Sure the latter that had happened only once, but was it weird if you missed that?

this?

You bit your lip, wondering if you should push further, worried about his well being.You ultimately decided against it, opting to join him at the board instead. “You worked on it without me?” you asked.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think you’d want to do it anymore,” he answered, clearly taken aback by your inquiry.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“My hours are crazy right now, so I just assumed.” He trailed off, but he couldn’t help the relief he felt at you wanting to help. He had spent yesterday and today staying with his mother for as long as the hospital allowed, working on his assignments and then spending the whole night working on coming up with a new game.

“Hey, if I get to beat your ass in Mario Kart everyday, I’m completely happy with working at odd hours,” you joked, nudging him, your heart warming at his first uninhibited smile of the night. Taking that as your cue, you settled on the couch, looking over the binder, your eyes widening at the exhaustive research he had done.

He answered your questions and explained as the two of you dove in to discuss the gaming industry as a whole, absorbed in the certain uptick of mobile gamers that seemed to be a lucrative market to catch. It was in the middle of one of his rants on how people never appreciated the work that went into the viral games, that you remembered the cookies you had been fretting over not even fifteen minutes ago.

Reaching over, you picked the container from where you had previously abandoned it, opening the lid to present a cookie to Jungkook, who in turn simply seemed confused.

“Where did you get those?” he questioned, grabbing a cookie and sniffing it as you rolled your eyes.

“I made them. My mom used to bake cookies to cheer me up and so...” you shrugged in explanation. You weren’t sure why you even told him that. Perhaps you didn’t want him to think that you randomly made cookies and carried them everywhere. You watched in anticipation as he lifted it to his mouth, taking a massive bite before his face screwed up in disgust.

“Ew. Did you want to cheer me up or poison me?” he asked, rubbing his tongue on the back of his hand to get rid of the taste.

“What do you mean? These cookies are delicious!” you argued, only just remembering the little detail of never having tasted them in your rush to make them. Taking a cookie you tasted, only to realize that they were salty. Did you mention this was your first time baking? You probably should’ve bought them instead.

Looking at your expression, Jungkook broke out into a laugh, his cackles filling the room and making you pout at him. You truly wanted to do something nice for him, and although your plan had failed, your intention had succeeded as he looked genuinely amused.

In his laughter, Jungkook forgot that the cookie was horrendous, subconsciously taking another bite, before spitting it out. The atmosphere after was light, and by the time you left, Jungkook felt lighter, his mind a little clearer. For the first time in weeks, his to-do list was empty as he fell asleep at a semi decent hour.

The next day, you decided to meet Jungkook at the hospital, taking flowers for his mother, and store-bought cookies for Jungkook. The two of you worked quietly with occasional whispered arguments over what made a game good. It felt natural to be working with him closely, his mind surprising you on more than one occasion. Previously you had assumed that Jungkook wasn’t very smart. Sure, he achieved great grades, but you had assumed it was mostly a result of memorization rather than actual understanding of the material. However, Jungkook was extremely sharp, spouting trends and the psychology of getting someone into a habit of gaming, as if it was general knowledge.

That did not mean he was great all around though.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong,” he said, frowning at the vending machine as he swiped his card once again, only to get rejected once more. “How are you rejecting this, you stupid machine? I’m sure I have money on this,” he whined, kicking the machine.

You tried not to laugh at his antics, knowing full well that a hospital was not going to accept a black card. Did he really think that a lowly machine ever got someone of his caliber using their no-limit, 100 million won minimum monthly spendings card? You let him try a few more times before pulling out your own Visa card and swiping it, the iced coffee tumbling through the machine easily.

“Wait, why did yours work?” he asked, brows furrowed as he stared at the drink in disbelief.

“Jeon, how rich are you?” you asked bemused, enjoying the flush that creeped up his ears at your question.

“I’m not that rich. I mean I’m sure this card should’ve worked.”

“Your card’s too rare for this machine,” you explained, shaking your head in mirth as you paid for your own coffee.

“Oh,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Okay, let me pay you back. Dinner?”

It became routine after that for you to meet him at the hospital to get some work done before grabbing dinner and going back to his place to work some more. In just a week the two of you had planned a whole mobile game, a toned down version of ChampCon, that would have shorter games for beginners and better graphics. Jungkook wanted to make ChampCon more accessible and a mobile version seemed to make a lot of sense.

Along with coming up with what the two of you thought was a brilliant idea, you’d also found an odd comfort with each other in a very short time. Spending every day with each other, you started noticing little habits about Jungkook: the way he would scrunch his nose when he was excited, or poke his tongue inside his cheek when bored or concentrating, or how he had three laughs, a fake one that used whenever you annoyed him but he was too polite to call you out on it, a joyous cackle whenever he figured out a problem after a long time, and a slimy snicker whenever he was trying to get on your nerves.

Jungkook had forgotten completely about writing you off. Whenever you walked into the room, he felt his heart warm. The past week had been one of the toughest of his life. The constant stress of his final few months of school paired with the pressure of the company and his mother still lying unconscious in the hospital bed, it felt as if he was constantly on an adrenaline high. He couldn’t sleep, he barely ate, but with you around for a few hours he was able to block that out. He was unsure why he felt that way, but being in your presence somehow made him able to concentrate on the task at hand.

Most days.

Today, sitting next to you on his couch, he was distracted. Perhaps it was creepy of him to remember the exact outfit you wore when you divulged to your friends you would never date him, but seeing you in that white silk camisole set him back into that moment. Usually the memory would make him angry, but this time it made him melancholic, like colours had dulled, awashed in sepia.

“You okay, Jeon?” Your voice brought him back to the present, and he hummed distractedly.

“Hmm? Yes. Sorry.”

“Come on. What’s on your mind?” you asked, moving from where you were on the floor to the couch next to him, patting his knee. “I’m a good listener,” you chimed.

Jungkook was quiet for a little while, wondering if he should be honest. Looking at your earnest smile made his mind up for him. “Just thinking about that party where we first talked.”

“You mean the one where you rejected me like I was stinky tofu?” You snorted, despite the way the memory made you cringe.

“S-stinky tofu?” Jungkook cackled, his hair falling into his eyes as he sputtered. “I didn’t reject you! You said I was an ‘entitled himbo’ and that you would never date me!” he retorted.

“Well that’s because I wanted to kiss you and you literally ran away,” you said, feeling a little guilty. You pouted, heat rising up your cheeks in embarrassment as you looked away. You hadn't thought Jungkook had heard your drunken little rant, but were you really meant to admit to your new friends that the guy you had a crush on since the first time you saw him in your Contracts class recoiled in disgust at the prospect of kissing you?

Jungkook expected you to come up with an excuse for your mean comments; he wanted to confront you, but he softened as soon as he heard your words, his heart dancing in his chest. He knew you wanted to kiss him, but hearing you admit it made him a little brave. Turning towards you, he brought a hand to your knee, gently calling your name.

When you turned towards him, eyes looking into his, he took a deep breath. Leaning in slowly, he brought his lips to yours, and immediately felt as if he was floating. Your lips were plush, the softest he had ever felt, and it made his cheeks burn. He moved away soon after not deepening the kiss, wanting to treasure the little moment, but you were addicted.

Jungkook had barely moved an inch away when your hand reached his neck, pulling him back in. His eyes widened in shock, but he soon lost himself in you, hands cupping your face as you leaned slightly to the side, your tongue too eager to meet his as he opened his lips. He tasted like the peach jellies the two of you had been sharing earlier, a saccharine warmth that had you running your hands through his hair and bringing your leg over his lap to straddle him.

He pulled you closer, a hand travelling to your lower back and the other resting against your neck where he could feel how your pulse mimicked his. He felt as if he was in a trance, all thoughts tumbling out of his brain to the rhythm of your lips. He whimpered when you pulled his hair, and usually he would overthink it until it became an insecurity but all he could think about was your taste, the sweet cherry of your lip tint searing itself in his mind.

However, when you moved your hips he realized how turned on he was, a garbled moan escaping his lips into your mouth as he broke out from under your spell, his brain overloading with his usual self-conscious diatribe. Panting under you as you suckled on the skin of his neck in a way that made him whine, his mind played every way you would reject him when he told you the truth. He wasn’t embarrassed about it, but he knew how people worked. You expected the Jungkook that people knew, a heartbreaker, a sex god. How could he expect for you to stay for the bumbling virgin?

He felt his confidence plummet. According to his friends, porn, and every song and rom com ever he was supposed to take charge. Fuck you in a way that would blow your mind. He was the man, it was his job. He was meant to throw you down to the couch and make you cum, but the closest he had ever gotten to a woman was feeling some tits in second year of undergrad on a dare.

Suddenly Jungkook felt small, and you noticed the way he tensed under you. Lifting your face from his neck, you tried to catch your breath as you asked him, “What’s wrong?”

“I h-h-have to t-tell you s-s-something,” he whispered, his skin feeling as if it wanted to flee his body. He couldn’t believe his eighth grade stutter was back. He felt anxious, his heart pounded but when you looked at him in concern, your thumbs slowly tracing his cheekbones as you cupped his face, he felt safe. His mind was at odds. At one hand, he trusted you and felt comfortable around you, but on the other, he didn’t know if he could handle getting rejected while you sat on his extremely hard dick. It also didn’t help that his crush from 2 years ago had resurfaced in full force, playing a montage of every moment he had laid his eyes on you in supercut.

“Virgin,” he blurted, the chorus in his head spilling onto his tongue, his tone making the word sound more like a question than a statement. As soon as he said it, his face turned bright red. He was sure it could be seen from space the way it was glowing. He expected you to recoil in disgust or even pity him, but instead you giggled, one of your hands moving away from his face to cover yours.

He didn’t think about you laughing at him, but it definitely hurt more than the scenarios he had made up. He wanted to push you away, stand up and lock himself in his bedroom till you found enough sense to leave his apartment, but he was frozen.

When you composed yourself, you kissed his cheek, smiling at how warm it was under your lips. You couldn’t believe how ridiculous it was that Seoul’s reputed casanova was a virgin. If someone told you Jungkook was a virgin, you would have never believed them, but looking at the stuttering, flustered man below you, it endeared you. It made you want to protect him.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, hugging him reassuringly, and Jungkook felt like he was going to cry. He was sure it was because of lack of sleep and in no way because of how warm he felt at your words, the hurt quickly melting away. Quietly, he hugged you back, holding you tightly and nuzzling into you, as if on instinct. You let him, slowly stroking his hair, combing the soft strands as you felt your blood fizzing. You kissed him gently on the cheek again, melting at the way he scrunched his nose at that.

Jungkook felt fuzzy under your affections, opening up to you about wanting to save himself for true love, someone who he was fated to be with. Your cynical mind wouldn’t let you believe the same, but his sincerity made you optimistic. When he told you that maybe he was stupid for waiting, you squeezed his hand in yours, moving to sit next to him. You curled your arms around him, resting your head on his chest, feeling oddly calm despite your heated makeout session earlier.

He hugged you back, feeling the sugar high. He had barely gotten used to your arms around him when you were pulling away, but before he could mourn the loss of your warmth, you were smiling at him, your words making him grin coyly.

“Wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

----------

Y/N: I cannot believe you’re a belieber!! Jungkook: his songs are romantic! Y/N: I’m really reconsidering going on a second date with you Jungkook: come on! give him a chance!!! Jungkook sent a video Y/N: You sing??? Jungkook: i know i’m perfect don’t fall in love 😏 Y/N: Too late. Jungkook: you kiss a girl two times and she gets clingy istg Y/N: I wasn’t the one whimpering when we kissed Jungkook: yes you were Y/N: Sure 🙄 Jungkook: we’ll see in two hours tiger 😴

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Y/N: What did you get for 28? Jungkook: c Y/N: I’m pretty sure that’s wrong Jungkook: come over and show me what’s right Y/N: That’s the worst pick up line you’ve used yet Jungkook: and you’re still coming over Y/N: Don’t test me Jeon Jungkook: please 🥺 Y/N: Fuck you Jungkook: all in due time, beautiful 😏 Y/N: OMG. I’m coming over only to beat your ass Jungkook: worth it 😍

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Jungkook: thanks for helping me out again Y/N: Stop thanking me Jungkook: just feel like im taking up all your free time and im sorry if you feel pressured to help me Y/N: Jungkook I want to help you. I’m having fun! Jungkook: just thank you Y/N: STOP 😭 Jungkook: ok sorry sorry Y/N: And stop apologizing too Jungkook: im happy we met Y/N: me too

----------

It took a week and a half for the doctors to wake Jungkook’s mother back up, her traumatic brain injury taking longer than usual to heal. The doctors all told him and his father that she may not remember certain events, and might even have some mental delays. The night before she woke up, you visited Jungkook as usual and kissed him to distract him.

When he fell asleep mid rant about how excited he was to beat Saga Games with your new project, you chuckled. Worried for his back, you woke him to move him to his bed, where he held your hand and asked you to stay. Although you were usually guarded, not wanting to get involved with someone too quickly, you were climbing in next to him in a heartbeat, relishing the way his arms wrapped around you as he buried his face in your neck, dozing off quickly.

Jungkook’s mother didn't wake up when the doctors said she would, so he waited with his father and Seungwon in the room, while you held his hand. It helped calm Jungkook down every time he wanted to lash out at Seungwon for holding his mother’s hand, crocodile tears in his eyes.

The four of you stayed in the room, Seungwon on a chair next to Kyungsoo, while Jaehwa worked on his laptop on the couch, next to Jungkook and you, the former staring into space blankly, while occasionally squeezing your hand that was sweating in his. He watched the window, counting the leaves on the tree branch that blocked the view of the parking lot, forcing his mind to stop racing with worst case scenarios. By the time the sky faded from blue to pink to an inky black, he knew there were one hundred and twenty seven little leaves, because he had counted them at least eight times.

“Dear?” his mother croaked, her hand squeezing Seungwon’s and it was like the quiet of the room had suddenly exploded, the men rushing to check on the patient. Before Jungkook or his father could reach Kyungsoo, she was pulling Seungwon to her, kissing him gently as he sobbed.

Jungkook’s steps faltered at the display, and he felt an odd jealousy that the first person she saw was his secretary. He knew he was her boyfriend but the bitterness was hard to swallow. He called out to her gently, her eyes landing on him, and Jungkook couldn’t control tearing up at how fragile his mother looked.

He hesitated a little when she opened her arms for a hug, afraid that he would crush her, but the moment he was in her embrace he couldn’t help holding onto her tightly, relief flooding through his body. He held on till Kyungsoo chuckled, patting her son on the head affectionately.

You felt odd being in the middle of the family affair, his father soon joining the embrace. You wanted to leave, feeling out of place, but when Jungkook sat by his mother’s side, he brought a chair next to him for you, holding your hand as he talked to her. Your heart warmed whenever he squeezed your hand, reminding you that he wanted you there. Was this too fast for the three official dates you had gone on? Probably, but it felt right.

Despite your mind reminding you that you were imposing on a private matter, your heart won. Over the past few weeks, your crush on Jungkook had not only reignited, but the embers had turned into a forest fire. It felt strange not seeing him everyday, your text threads never ending. Although the two of you still bickered, it was now laced with an underlying tension, that most time resulted in you shutting each other up with kisses.

Kissing Jungkook felt natural. What started as a heated makeout had turned into celebratory kisses after solving a problem you were stuck on, turned into pecks when saying hello, and yearnful groping when saying goodbye. It had barely been a fortnight, yet you felt as if you could kiss him forever.

With his mind sated about his mother’s wellbeing, Jungkook felt a little more himself, less tumultuous, which gave him plenty of time to overthink about the fact that he had barely been dating you for two weeks and he had somehow dragged you to something much more daunting than meeting the parents. When the realization hit, all Jungkook could do was subtly escape, taking you with him to the hallway, his heart on his sleeve.

“I’m so sorry,” he rushed out as soon as the door was closed, his eyes panicked as they looked at your alarmed face. “I’m sorry I dragged you here. It was so stupid, you must think i’m so clingy and weird and — oh my god, I’m such a loser!”

“Jungkook, hey. Don’t be sorry,” you said, grabbing his wrist to pull it away from where he kept running it through his hair. His shoulders sagged at your words as he let out a breath he seemed to be holding. Moving closer, you wrapped your arms around him, and he immediately returned your embrace. “I’m glad you trust me enough to bring me here,” you whispered, his grip tightening around you in response.

“Thank you,” he replied, inhaling your scent, and feeling at ease. It felt as if everything in his life was falling in place, that for the first time in his existence he could rest. He didn’t feel anxious about taking over the company, he didn’t feel insecure about being written off, he just felt at peace. Could he really live in the moment now? Was that something he could give himself now?

“Hey kid, you’re gonna stand here or gonna tell your mom her favourite son is here?” Yoongi grumbled playfully, and when Jungkook looked up he saw his friends there, holding flowers, candy, and fruit. He was surprised the hospital had let them through. But then again, heading the group was Jimin, arms full of a teddy bear that was probably as tall as him. Even Namjoon had showed up, looking a little worse for wear, dark circles under his hollow eyes, but smiling nevertheless.

Jungkook’s mom beamed when the group of ten entered in a flurry of celebration. Jimin, being the loudest as usual, ran up to her screaming “Eomma!”, followed by Taehyung, both of them hugging her. The older ones, Yoongi and his wife, and Seokjin were more composed, handing her the flowers, Seokjin making the cheesy joke about her being Jungkook’s sister - a joke he’d made since the day he first met her. Candy immediately scoffed at them, moving the flowers away to hug her tight, having seen her the first time since her time abroad. Namjoon was more reserved but his well wishes still touched her heart.

It felt like a reunion of sorts, and despite Hoseok still being in the States, Seokjin had him on Facetime, in all his sleepy glory. Their group hadn’t all been together for so long, that Jungkook felt a little misty eyed. Despite everyone being in such different places in their lives, and despite the circumstances, it felt right that everyone was here at this moment. He reached for your hand, squeezing your fingers when he introduced you to his childhood friends, not missing the way Candy finally broke out of the stupor she had been in since Hoseok’s call, and raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Jungkook was finally at ease.

----------

The door bell was loud and obnoxious, startling Jungkook awake. He groaned, rolling out of bed at the insistent noise, eyes barely opened and padded towards the front door. All sleep disappeared when he saw you standing in the hallway, a colourful paper hat on your head, and a coffee and cupcake in your hands, a sparkler glittering on the tiny cake.

“Happy birthday, Jeon,” you smiled at him, a brilliant grin that always made his heart skip. His nose scrunched in response as he returned your smile, grabbing the coffee and replacing it with his hand. He dragged you to the kitchen, impatiently excited, giggling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but coo at his actions as he quickly took the cupcake from you, placing it on the counter.

Before you could say anything, he was kissing you, hands cupping your face gently as he continuously pecked your lips. If someone had told him last year that on his next birthday he would be kissing the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he would’ve laughed in their faces, but with your lips on his, he couldn’t think of anything that seemed more fated.

His hands travelled down your sides, and when they reached your butt, he picked you up, placing you on the counter gently before looping his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest. His eyes were shining when you separated, a toothy grin on his face that made him oddly look like a little rabbit. Grabbing the cupcake, you brought it between the two of you, picking out the now dead sparkler and replacing it with a candle from your hoodie pocket, lighting it quickly.

“Make a wish,” you said, expecting Jungkook to close his eyes and do so. Instead he looked straight at you, blowing out the candle before plucking it out, messily taking a big bite of the chocolate cupcake with frosting adorning his lips.

“I already got my wish,” he said, kissing you once again, tasting of chocolate and adoration.

----------

It seemed surreal, walking from the car to the docks, where a small boat awaited to take you to the extravagant yacht. When you asked Jungkook out for a date, a month and half ago, you wouldn’t have imagined that you would be going to a party where actual paparazzi roamed at the entrance.

For being one of the richest men in Korea, Jungkook never acted that way. Sure, he may live in a wildly secure gated community with actual celebrities as neighbours, and his watch probably cost more than your car, but Jungkook never flaunted his wealth, and so you often forgot. Playing video games over a bowl of 300 won ramen and arguing over who won only to devolve into tickles and kisses were how you knew Jungkook, not the man photographed by the media in tailored Armani suits and sports cars. It was a bit jarring seeing the extent of his wealth, especially when you finally climbed aboard the yacht.

The boat was akin to a hotel on sea, the deck lit up brilliantly with chandeliers that seemed to float as a live jazz band performed on stage. Servers walked around guests dressed in the latest runway fashion, an eclectic mix of people from vastly different age groups but exceedingly similar income brackets. You felt out of place, dressed in a little black dress from Zara, akin to a coal dropped among diamonds.

You grabbed a flute of champagne, scanning the floor for the birthday boy, and unsurprisingly finding him surrounded by his friends. You had seen him only a few hours before, but you felt butterflies return as soon as your eyes met his. Jungkook was the first man you had ever felt that way with, like he was a childhood fantasy personified, making your palms sweat and your heart somersault. You weren’t someone who fell for people quickly, but it seemed as if two years of pining had snowballed into a yearning that never seemed to be satiated.

When Jungkook met your eyes, he forgot where he was, music and Seokjin’s half baked jokes fading into the background just like the movies as he made his way to you. “You came,” he said softly when he reached you, somewhat dazed by how beautiful you looked. He couldn’t help the blush that made its way over his cheeks as you smiled at him.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, just as his arms circled you, making your breath hitch a little. Jungkook smirked at your subtle inhale, enjoying the effect he had on you. He still couldn’t believe that somehow in such a short time he had found someone that made him feel supported. Jungkook hadn’t truly realized how alone he felt in the past twenty three years of his life. People often say you have to know sadness to know happiness, but he hadn’t realized that you have to know companionship to know loneliness, and he never knew how lonely he was before he met you — a little boat floating on a never-ending still ocean.

Although celebrations were in full swing, he couldn’t focus on guests, mingling with them a chore he’d rather escape. And so about an hour after your arrival, he decided to do just that.

Your hand in his and champagne bubbles in his head, he led you to below deck, where the rooms were. It felt a little funny, a weird parallel to how his friends would run away to smelly frat rooms during a party in undergrad, but he felt giddy almost running through the decadently decorated hallways, trying rooms till he found an open one, your giggles a soundtrack to the moment.

“You can’t just run away from your own party, silly boy,” you joked as he pulled you into the room, locking the door and walking backwards to the bed, dragging you along with a grin.

“Can’t help it. You look too pretty,” he said with a giggle, sitting down and pulling you to him, hands on your waist as you stood between his legs.

“You’re just horny,” you snorted, an eye roll on the ready.

“Yes, I am,” he exclaimed jovially, falling back onto the bed, his hands behind his head, eyes closed. You laughed at his silly mood, more than a little turned on by his blatant admission. Over the last month, the two of you had been getting close. By now you had his taste memorized, and you craved his lavender vanilla scent throughout the day, but you still felt a little hesitant to move things forward physically.

Jungkook was romantic. The kind of romantic who would send you karaoke covers of love songs, who would pick a flower from the neighbour’s garden to put in your hair, who would hide silly post-it notes in your books and laptop just to make you smile. Before Jungkook, you hadn’t known romance. You had written it off as a fantasy devised by the media to sell movies and dramas, unattainable and unrealistic. Your previous experiences were proof enough, cheating boyfriends and one night stands the norm in your dating life.

He opened his eyes when you didn’t respond with your usual quips, finding you still staring at him, worrying your lip. He faltered a little, but refused to let the liquid courage die down, reaching to grab your hand, interlacing your fingers.

“Aren’t you gonna come get me, Tiger?” he asked, lips upturned in a smirk as he pulled you towards him, making you fall on top of him. He laughed at your horrified gasp, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head as you relaxed. “Why are you worried?”

“Why aren’t you?” you countered, finding this sexually confident Jungkook a little jarring. You could hear his steady heartbeat from where your head rested on his chest, a change from the usual nervous pounding.

“Because it's you,” he said softly, lifting your head gently to look at you, eyes shining with adoration. “You make me brave,” he said. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones as he cupped your face, his lips meeting yours, and you felt as if you would explode.

You kissed him back as his arms circled your lower back, pulling you higher up on him. You felt at ease, and because he made you brave too, you straddled him, your knees on the bed next to his hips as his hands trailed to your thighs, gripping the flesh and massaging it slowly.

Much like every time you kissed Jungkook, you were soon breathless, not wanting to ever stop as his tongue wrestled yours. When you bit his lip teasingly, he whined, his hips moving up to start grinding into yours, your dress now hiked up almost to your waist.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, pulling away as he chased your lips with a scowl. You pinned him to the bed, hands on his shoulders as you laughed. “You whimpered first!”

“Are we still playing that stupid game?” he asked, rolling his eyes, laughing as you gleefully nodded. Jungkook knew why you were stalling. You always did it when things got too hot and heavy, giving him an easy out with jokes, afraid to make him uncomfortable, but Jungkook didn’t want an out now.

He had spent his whole life searching for a soulmate, and nothing else explained the connection he felt with you. You had quite literally crashed into his life, challenged him for two years, and then somehow helped him when he needed it the most. Maybe it was too soon to tell, but he didn’t care. He had never felt this way around anyone, not even Candy who he was convinced he was in love with. But seeing Candy didn’t feel like this. Like he could finally breathe, like he was in a meadow surrounded by jasmine and lilies, or in a cocoon wrapped up snugly.

Smiling widely, he flipped you over, hands next to your head as he looked down on you. “My turn,” he said with a chuckle, swiftly attaching his mouth to your neck, where he knew you were especially sensitive. He suckled the skin, caressing it with his tongue, and coaxing the breathy moans he loved so much.

You called his name and he looked up, not being able to resist tasting your lips again. In every other instance in his life when he had gotten close to having sex, he felt insecure, felt this intense pressure to perform, but right now he felt safe. Perhaps it was the alcohol confusing his emotions, but he was certain that it was you, your presence a shelter from the storm.

“Be my girlfriend,” he said, now leaning on his forearms, his nose nuzzling yours, and for the first time, you didn’t have a witty remark. Nodding wildly, you wrapped your arms around him, kissing him once again, your lips fervent as you lost yourself in him. Eager kisses led to even more eager undressing as you rid him of his shirt, running your hands up and down his chiseled abdomen.

“Lie back,” you whispered, pushing at his chest till he fell back on the bed. You were on him immediately, kissing down his jaw to his neck to his chest, leaving a little trail of love bites that made him keen.

You giggled at the sound he made as your lips circled his nipple. He was sensitive and you couldn’t wait to unravel him, proud of being the first one he had trusted to be this vulnerable with. “I thought you were all smug now, Jeon?” you asked with a grin as you looked up at him, his eyes darkened and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“I -” he began, only to break into a whine when you playfully brought your teeth into the mix, the feeling shooting from his nipple straight to his dick. He panted, trying to collect his scrambling thoughts but all he could was plead, face flushed as he closed his eyes. “Please Y/N… Please.”

Jungkook was about to lose his mind. No, scratch that. Jungkook was about to lose his load, as your lips moved lower on his body. He felt already on edge and you had barely unbuttoned his pants. His hips moved without instructions as you pulled his pants off, the material of them and his boxers stuck mid thigh. He wanted to shimmy them off, but you were too impatient, and he was too powerless to protest as you licked a strip up his length.

His legs twitched at the action, his core tightening as he felt an ache in his balls. Your mouth encased him and his breath hitched at the way your tongue continued to lap at his dick when you moved your head up and down. He was going to cum within thirty seconds if you kept that up, and despite his warnings you continued, winking up at him when he told you he was close.

“Wanna taste you, Koo,” you said, your voice raspy, before you took him deeper. His hips rose of their accord, matching the way you bobbed on him, and it was with a high pitched cry that he came. You relished his taste, the bittersweet salt coating your taste buds as you swallowed him, continuing your ministrations till he was mewling, hand pulling at your hair.

“Happy birthday,” you said as Jungkook panted, his breaths heavy and inconsistent. He never knew an orgasm could feel this good. Is this what it was like being with someone? Did it always feel like galaxies exploding in his chest, or was it you?

He turned his head to see you lying next to him, both hands under your head as you smiled softly at him, and he couldn’t help returning it just as tenderly. He lifted his hand to push a strand of your hair behind your hair before leaning in and kissing you gently. When his tongue met yours, he could taste himself, something he thought would be repulsive but only ignited more lust within him.

Before he could stop himself, he was on you, his hands undoing your zipper deftly and pulling the dress off your body. Seeing you in just your underwear below him made him almost short circuit, stalling his movements as he forgot what he was even trying to do.

“What’s wrong?” you asked shyly, a little taken aback by how he was staring, mouth agape.

“So pretty,” he whispered in awe, eyes roaming your body as he sat on his heels next to you. You couldn't help but chuckle at his reverence, reaching behind you to undo your bra and tossing it on the floor, before doing the same with your panties. The sound that Jungkook made at your actions could only be described as needy but he still didn’t move, just looking at you, unsure of how to proceed.

Sitting up, you brought his lips to yours, guiding his hand to your chest. You sighed when he hesitantly rolled a nipple between his fingers, repeating the action again and again. Paired with his eager kisses, you were soon dripping. The two of you were on your knees, his arms now winding around you and moving lower.

The more Jungkook kissed you, the more natural it felt to be doing this with you. He hadalways been saving himself for the right person, and now he was grateful he had waited for you to find him. His lips moved from your lips to your chest, engulfing a nipple in his mouth, copying the way you had sucked and ran your tongue over his, grinning when you mewled, your hands tugging at his hair. Maybe he didn’t have to be terrible at his first time, he thought, and it gave him the confidence to move his tattooed hand between your legs.

He nipped at your chest, groaning when he felt how wet you were, and all he wanted to do was to taste you, make you feel as good as you made him feel.

“C-can I try to…” he trailed off, looking at you as you cupped his face. You nodded, and Jungkook pushed you to the bed, a little too aggressively, causing you to wince in response. He apologized, kissing you once again before moving between your legs, and settling on his stomach.

Fuck, is that what you smelt like? He was going to get addicted, he knew it as soon as he inhaled your musky scent, and when he started licking at your folds tentatively, he knew he had found his favourite flavour.

Your hips jolted when he immediately entered you with his tongue, lapping at you quickly as if on a mission to devour you. He kept up his pace and you moaned, hands gripping the sheets. It felt so good, but he kept avoiding your clit and you felt as if you were on the edge, your mind blank, only his name flowing from your tongue.

Hearing his name, he moved further down, his tongue fucking into you as his lips pulled your labia, making you lose your mind. You couldn’t take it anymore; you needed to cum, you needed him to touch your clit so you could fall apart before you cried. Pulling his hair, you pleaded, and he continued his actions.

“Baby… please! More! Please!” you exclaimed, and when he refused to change his technique, your hips started rolling against his face. He moaned loudly, his arms wrapping around your legs as he let you use him. With the friction of his nose rubbing on your clit, you finally unravelled, screaming affirmations for your new boyfriend as he continued to lap at you.

You pulled him away, shuddering, whimpering expletives, and he grinned when he kissed you. Jungkook knew he wanted to make you cum, but he didn’t know how fucking hot the image of you shaking in his arms would be.

“I give you the best head I have ever given and you edge me?” you said breathlessly, brushing your hair off your face where it was plastered in sweat. “You’re such a tease!”

“I didn’t edge you!” Jungkook protested, his indignance not visible under how brightly he was smiling, still giddy over making you into a fucked out mess. In all honesty, Jungkook had no idea he was edging you. He had just followed what he had seen in porn, but he was definitely going to remember that for next time.

Still on top of you, he nuzzled into your neck and you couldn’t help but giggle, stroking his hair.

“You okay?” you asked, your heart blooming when he laid beside you, pulling you to his chest.

“Better than okay,” he replied, kissing the top of your head. “Happy. Ecstatic! Euphoric!” he yelled, his arms tight around you, and you burst out laughing, your lips pressed to his collarbone.

“You are a dork,” you said gleefully.

“No, I’m your boyfriend,” he countered, giggling with excitement, before he simmered, his lips meeting yours gently. He wanted more, so much more. Wanted to sink into you, make you fall apart on his dick, and he could feel himself getting hard again just at the thought.

However, your calm moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. Groaning, he separated from you, answering to his father asking him where he was. He dressed quickly, pulling up his pants and shyly turning away when you helped him with his shirt, buttoning it much slower than when you had unbuttoned it.

“It’s probably something stupid, like meeting someone,” he rolled his eyes, watching you pick up your bra from the ground, but before you could put it on, he grabbed it, biting his lip and looking at you mischeviously. “Stay naked,” he whispered.

“Jeon!” you exclaimed, a little bashful at his forward demand.

“Come on! Please?” he asked, his eyes big as he pouted at you, trying to act cute as he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling the covers over you. You rolled your eyes at his antics as he kissed you again, hungry and desperate, making you moan at the way his tongue met yours.

“I still have to lose my virginity,” he said with a wink as he left a few more kisses before leaving, you shaking your head in faux disappointment. In reality, you were on cloud nine, turned on beyond belief for how the night would unravel.

----------

Jungkook whistled as he made his way to the top deck, eyes peeled for his father. He felt as if nothing could break him, elated with anticipation and impatient to join you back in the room. A goofy grin seemed to plastered on his face as he recalled the way you looked flushed from the orgasm he had given to you. Jungkook’s ego was sky high; maybe he was the sex god everyone thought he was after all. He giggled to himself at the thought.

“Hey Jungkook!” a raspy voice called out to him, and he turned around to see Yoongi walking over to him with long determined steps, a scowl adorned on his face. “Where’s Tiger?” he asked coldly, a contrast to how he usually babied his youngest friend, but Jungkook was too in his head to decipher the tone.

“You mean my girlfriend?” he said smugly, his nose scrunching as he tried to keep the dopey smile off his face. It was easier when he saw the way Yoongi’s face fell, immediately concerned for his friend. “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi sighed, hugging Jungkook as he tried to not recoil in shock. Yoongi never hugged anyone first, unless something was wrong. He worriedly scanned the room, scared that his mother would be hurt once again, anxiety clawing at his nerves.

He relaxed a little when his eyes landed on her, safe and laughing with his father. Not knowing what could be wrong, he repeated his question, only for Yoongi to let him go and look at him with a sad smile.

“She used you, Jungkook,” Yoongi said with another sigh, and Jungkook’s confusion only grew.

“Who?” he asked, brows furrowed as he took the phone his older friend handed to him.

He felt his blood run cold as he looked at the screen, heart shattering as if someone took a hammer to it. No, not shattering. It felt as if it had been ripped from his chest and put in a blender. He could feel his pulse in his ears as the screen in front of him turned blurry.

He didn’t realize he was crying till a teardrop landed on Yoongi’s phone, magnifying your handle as if to mock him.

Renowned Youtuber Y/N Y/L/N callmetiger95 Appointed Lead Strategist of Saga Games.

Maybe everyone was right after all. Soulmates weren’t real, love was a sham, and Jeon Jungkook was an idiot.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

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