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jungkookschin · 9 days

Text

older part 3

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

synopsis: your friends say you're delusional for thinking you have a chance with jungkook, your parents' friends' son, but you just can't seem to let him go.

alternatively, you break jungkook's heart and jungkook enlists in the army to get over you--- but he can't just fuck off from your life forever; your lives are infinitely intertwined

word count: 21k

pairing: older!jk x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes, there is a mention of jungkook shooting someone lol, non explicit smut, mentions of sex

OLDER MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

When it comes to you, Jungkook’s window of tolerance extends towards the sun and the stars, to Jupiter and Saturn, if you will. For you, he’ll willingly undertake deeds he won’t even entertain for anyone else.

Anything for you. Whenever and wherever.

He will, in fact, swoop in and rescue you from a 2AM party (like the Prince Charming he is), even if it means disrupting his beauty sleep because as much as likes your friends, he doesn’t trust them to take you home safely, especially when alcohol is involved. Scratch that, he doesn’t really trust anybody to take you home besides himself. Even with work the next day, the appeal of sleep drowns when you’re drunkenly texting him from some frat mansion at who knows where.

Approximately 10% of his biweekly earnings are devoted to you, his princess. He would never utter these sentiments aloud, yet he embraces them willingly, indulging in gestures of affection reserved solely for you.

He’s not afraid to wipe your tears, stick his fingers into your nose, or to touch any bodily fluid (given that it comes from you), because it’s you and his being simply isn’t capable of conjuring feelings of disgust when it’s you.

He sees you and he loves you, but a man can only take so much.

“What?” you ask quietly, breathless, like the wind’s been knocked from your lungs.

Jungkook exhales deeply, straightening his posture as he runs his hands across his face. “Y/N. Get out of my apartment. I’m serious.”

You think that this is the first time in the history of the world Jungkook has straight up told you to leave.

“Why?”

“Why?” Jungkook repeats, “What do you mean, why? You ignored me for four months straight. Thanks for spending the night, but you need to leave.”

Jungkook, just a man though he may be, is simply incapable to resist when you show up at his doorstep in the dead of the night- and even if he welcomes you into his home for the last time, he simply isn’t able to welcome you back into his heart. How could he willingly allow you to reclaim his heart’s residence after he’s worked so hard to expel you from its throne?

Your blatant disregard for his presence spoke volumes; you didn’t care for him nor did you respect him. Jungkook isn’t going to fold simply because he finds you beautiful and perfect and amazing and everything he’s ever wanted.

“So that’s all I am to you? A quick fuck?”

All the empathy he harbors disperses from his being like a passing breeze, ephemeral and elusive. Evidently, you’ve crossed the line.

Jungkook blinks at you, his expression unreadable, while you inwardly recoil, immediately regretting your words. Jungkook won’t even entertain the notion. He knows you know how much you mean to him, and quite frankly, he’s appalled that you’re blatantly weaponizing something as pure as his love.

“Y/N, I’m not going to see my family in a year, and you came to my place and made it all about yourself. You need to go,” Jungkook’s voice is firm and low, and he looks right at you, disappointment reflected in his pupils.

“I didn’t mean to make it about myself. I just wanted to see you,” You try so desperately hard to rationalize, but he’s right; you weren’t thinking about him, you were thinking about yourself.

“And by doing that, you made it about yourself-” Jungkook rubs his face with his palms, “Y/N. I don’t want to fight. Just go home.”

He hears a gentle sniffle escape you, and it elicits a heavy sigh from Jungkook. It's like a tug at his heartstrings, but he’s already beyond frustrated, and at this point, he wants to be alone.

“Jungkook, I-I love you,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. If I’m better by the time you come back, will you give me a chance?”

As you raise your head, tears cascading down your cheeks, Jungkook's heart clenches at the sight. Jungkook hates seeing you cry, and it makes his heart physically ache, but there will be no appeal to his emotions.

“Y/N- I mean- did you think I was gonna wait forever? You can’t treat a man like that and expect them to wait around forever.”

“But we had sex,” you counter, “The way you fucked me- I know you still love me- so please. I’ll be better. I’ll be better for you. Please,” you beg.

Jungkook exhales softly, leaning into the support of the wall behind him. He remains stoic, neither affirming nor refuting your observation. He offers no gesture of consolation, no attempt to dry your tears.

“Go home.”

If he doesn't want you there, then you’ll leave. Clumsily, you stand up from the bed, picking your clothes up from the ground before haphazardly slipping into them, leaving yourself vulnerable under Jungkook’s gaze.

He doesn’t walk you out.

You open the door and slam it closed before he can let another word out.

Jungkook has always been a constant presence in your life, like the warmth of the sun on a chilly morning.

He’s very aware of the image you have of him in your cute little head, and he does everything he can to fulfill that image for you. He’s well aware of your little prince charming fantasies revolving around him, and truly, truly does everything to be your Prince Charming.

He’ll indulge you, always- to the extent where Mingyu and Taehyung constantly throw the term “sugar daddy” around- and of course Jungkook will roll his eyes, but he won’t deny it.

Jungkook has dropped thousands on you. He’s a single man in his 20’s with way too much money, anyways. So what was he supposed to do? Let all his money sit in his 401K to ensure that he’s financially secure for retirement (🙄) or buy you an unnecessarily expensive designer dress and observe how your face lights up?

Obviously, he’ll choose the latter.

Simultaneously, that doesn’t mean you don’t make him feel the same way. This is so corny, but you’re kind of like the rainbow after a storm, bringing color back to his otherworldly, gloomy world.

Jungkook’s not perfect. Despite what you think, he’s far from perfect.

About half a year ago, he thought he hit rock bottom. And when he hit rock bottom, all he needed was you to remedy his mood.

There was an issue at work where he was accused of leaking confidential information to a competitor. The accusations were baseless, but the damage to his reputation was significant. It felt like his entire world was crumbling around him. He faced scrutiny from his colleagues and doubt from his superiors.

After an excruciating meeting with the company lawyers, he drove back to his mom’s place- his mood as dark as the night enveloping his luxury car. All he wanted was his mommy. He was a 25 year old grown ass man, but all he wanted was his mommy.

As he bursts through the front doors, the familiar scent of his mother's cooking greets his nostrils, wrapping him in a sense of comfort and the feeling of home. He heads towards the kitchen, until he walks into something…

You yelp, rubbing your hand over your forehead.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook mumbles, “My bad, baby. Didn’t see you” Jungkook says apologetically, placing his hands on your shoulders to stabilize you. His eyes glaze over your frame, and he smiles.

You’re in boyshorts and a tank top. Typically of you to treat his parents’ place like it was your own; you’re family anyways.

Jungkook whizzes past you, setting his work backpack on the kitchen counter. You follow him back into the kitchen, attending to the steak being grilled on the stovetop. You whirl around to face him, a mischievous smile spreading across your lips.

“You look… handsome,” you finally say.

Jungkook stares incredulously at you before he bursts into a smile at your anticss. “Oh really? You like me in business formal?” You clasp your palms behind your back and shift your weight between your ankles. “Maybe?” you sheepishly respond, in your typical girlish nature.

Jungkook bites back a laugh, looking at you smugly. “Where’s mom?”

You shrug, “She’s probably with her second boyfriend,” you teasingly muse, lips pouted out before you turn around to perceive his reaction.

Jungkook scoffs at you amusedly before standing up to walk towards you. You smile sheepishly at him, not backing down when he practically towers over you. He pinches your cheek affectionately. “You’re cute, baby,” he jokes, and it makes your heart clench- not in a good way- because he means you’re cute… like a literal infant baby or a puppy, not a woman.

“Did my mom call you over?” he asks, rummaging through the fridge.

You nod, “Mm-hmm. She said she had to go run some errands so she wanted me to make you dinner,” you motion towards the steak sizzling in its pan. “Rare, just how you like it! Ta-da!”

He gazes at you with an affectionate smile. “Thanks. Did you drive here or do I need to drop you off?”

You make a pssh sound with your lips, dismissing the notion with a wave, “I’ve been driving for like two years,” you state matter-a-factly, throwing up a gyaru sign because why not, “I can drive home just fine.”

“Alright, yea,” Jungkook acquiesces, putting his hands up, “You’re all grown up- I get it, I get it.”

“Good,” you respond, plating his steak before handing it to him, “But Jungkook, why are you back home? You usually don’t come home on work nights.”

Jungkook settles at the dining table, before he looks at you and sighs. You tilt your head, very cognizant of his body language. You’re in love with him, of course you can read all his nonverbal cues.

“Just some shit at work,” he explains, “Has me stressed out of my mind.”

You pout, approaching him before you wrap and arm around his shoulder. The moment feels oddly intimate- like he’s returned to his two-story, middle-class home to his wife cooking up a home-made dinner, her touch everything he needs to bring him down from a stressful day at work. He swears he can even hear the kids crying from upstairs.

“Wanna talk about it?” you beckon with your sweet voice.

“Just been accused of some shit,” he mumbles, “Some illegal shit,” he adds, and you rest your head on his shoulder, making him freeze slightly and his chest tighten.

“Don’t worry,” you sweetly comfort, “The truth will always be revealed, and you’ll be cleared eventually. And besides, you’re young, rich, and hot. As long as you know who you are, you don’t need to worry about others.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow slightly before he relaxes his expression. What a juvenile, yet straightforward outlook on life. So simple, yet so… brilliant?

Jungkook knows that you’re more than capable of understanding the complex intricacies of the professional world, but he finds solace in its simplicity as a counterbalance to his excruciating overthinking.

He sighs blissfully, turning towards you. “Give me a hug, baby. I need a hug.”

You nod sweetly and wrap your arms around him. “Of course. Call me any time if you want a hug.”

You coming on to him the night before enlistment was his last opportunity to indulge in you, and he’s only just a man- a weak, weak man, so it’s simply in his nature to succumb to your allure.

Jungkook is now bald, devoid of any hair. Gone with his hair is his sense of confidence. Staring at his reflection, he runs a hand over his bald head, his mood becoming despondent.

One hour ago, you slammed his front door, scurrying down the stairs with tears cascading down your cheeks. Jungkook doesn’t like seeing you cry; he hates seeing you cry- but it’s time to let go and live.

The most daunting aspect of dating with an age-gap is the maturity discrepancy. Like two ships sailing different seas, Jungkook has sailed through weathered storms while your sail catches the wind of youthful possibility.

This discrepancy manifests through communication styles, lifestyle choices, and most importantly, love languages.

You would never, ever do anything to hurt him purposely- but you did.

Nonetheless, what was Jungkook supposed to expect? Undeniably, he loves you with everything in him but was he supposed to expect you to handle things with the maturity of someone his age?

He should’ve known, and for that, he feels dumb.

Feels dumb and like an idiot because you used to cartwheel in his room trying to get his attention. Feels dumb because when you were 11, he was already 18– like, what the fuck is that age gap?

What was he supposed to expect? You lost both of your parents at the same time when you were 20 years old. You’re traumatized, you’re young, and he kinda feels like he took advantage of your juvenile feelings for him- but no, a love like his is pure, and he wants nothing but the best for you, which is why he’s going to let go.

The wind from a slightly ajar window brushes, spreading the hair around the floor and suddenly glitter comes to mind.

Glitter. Sparkles. Fairy Dust.

When you were a senior in high school, Jungkook bought you a prom dress. Your bum ass boyfriend (or situationship- he doesn’t know. He wants to burn the memory of all men who you’ve been with before him) didn’t even want to go to prom with you, and Jungkook, as the great “mom’s friend’s son” he was, offered to buy you a dress- no budget.

Jungkook dropped by your place to drop off some sticky rice, as instructed by his mother; he was a good and obedient son. He knew your parents were at Zumba, so he sent you a quick text in advance. You always responded to his texts immediately, promptly, instantly, right away, and without delay.

You can only imagine Jungkook’s apprehension when it’s been thirty minutes and you still haven’t come to the door.

Normally, Jungkook would have been annoyed to wait this long for you, but he’s actually concerned– because what if you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere? Okay, maybe he shouldn’t go to such extremes, but you were undeniably a gorgeous girl, recently 18, and he knew that so many men had their eyes on you.

Not him, though. He was a gentleman.

Jungkook swings open the door of his car, swiftly walking towards your front door. On cue, the outer door swings open, and you’re standing apprehensively, struggling to unlock the screen door because the fucking lock always gets jammed. The lock just won’t budge and after a good second of trying, you bang your fist against the door, yelling a very non-intimidating “Fuck!”

Jungkook smiles, “Twist the door knob, then try the lock,” he gently instructs. You oblige, and the screen door swings open.

“I’ll come back tomorrow to fix that,” he adds before walking towards your kitchen to place the sticky rice into the fridge.

“Thanks,” you mumble, taking a seat at the dining table.

Jungkook glances back at you from the fridge, “Why’d you cry?”

The question is asked with a subtle casualty, and that makes you want to actually go curl into a ditch and die.

To Jungkook, it was painfully obvious. He’s known you since forever and has all your mannerisms ingrained into his mind like a tattoo. Usually, when you wake up, you’re quite lethargic, stumbling around with your eyes half cracked open- but right now, you’re cognizant as ever.

Furthermore, when you cry, your eyes usually swell up- more so than the average person. After you cry, it’s like your eyes turned into little, red, puffy balls with slits for seeing. And Jungkook had eyes, superb vision, actually, and he could clearly see that your eyes were in fact, swollen.

“t’s nothing,” you mumble, “It’s stupid.”

Jungkook purses his lips, contemplating whether he should push further. Your big mouth keeps going before he can get a word out.

“Well, if I tell you, promise not to judge me?” you ask, sticking out your pinky finger.

Jungkook locks the promise in. “Never,” he breathes.

“Well… it’s just… you know…”

Jungkook raises a brow.

“I just… I hate my boobs.”

Jungkook blinks at you, and you blink at him.

“You said you weren’t going to judge me!”

Jungkook is absolutely flabbergasted. “I just- wait-” he pauses, putting his hands up, “What’s wrong with your boobs? They look normal to me.”

Your features contort into petulance, and you pout. Immediately, you rise, wiping the dust off your shorts before you divulge into the full story. Jungkook can only sit there and listen.

“Okay, listen. Let me start from the beginning,” you start, pacing around, “So I ordered two prom dresses,” you explain, making a peace sign with your hands.

“And they looked so good on the models, but they look horrible on me! Because my boobs are so small and my body looks imbalanced! So I cried about it. I just wanted to feel pretty…. Do you think my parents will be mad at me if I get my tits done?”

Jungkook blinks at you. At the time, he hadn’t a clue of how to respond, but oh how he grew to love your boobs. In fact, he currently wishes that they were swinging in his face.

“Y/N, don’t get a boob job,” is the first thing he says.

What else could he say? He couldn’t tell you that he thinks your body is perfect, or that you’d look stunning in any dress you wear- he did not want to creep you out. “Lemme see you try the dresses,” he offers, “You’re probably in your head- it can’t be that bad.”

“I’m 18,” you counter, “It’s completely legal for me to get a boob job. I don’t even want D’s! I think I would be okay with B’s. In fact, all I need to do is sell a couple feet pictures and I’d have enough to finance my boob job-”

“Y/N. Just try on the dress.”

“Fine,” you huff, puffing up the stairs.

A few moments later, you reappear, and Jungkook almost chokes on his own saliva. The dress you're wearing captures his attention entirely. Its fabric shimmers under the kitchen light, a juxtaposition against the bland interior, cascading in gentle folds as it hugs your curves delicately. With each step, the skirt sways gently, whispering secrets of a night yet to unfold.

Gorgeous. Stunning. Most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he recalls the pang of guilt that washed over him, because you’re seven years younger, and it feels wrong, incongruous.

Fortunately for him, Jungkook is great at hiding his emotions, so even a slightly suspicious clearing of the throat does nothing to phase you.

You pause, blinking at him, and he blinks back at you.

“I told you it was bad!-”

“Wait, no. Stop. It’s not bad…” Jungkook offers.

You blink at each other again.

“Oh, you fucking liar!” you scoff.

“What?” Jungkook retorts, features morphing into confusion, “Why would I lie? I always just say whatever I want to say.“

You groan, plopping onto the dining room table with your arms crossed. “You don’t know anything about prom dresses,” you mutter.

This marked the first time Jungkook perceived you as a woman. He spent a year suppressing it all because of the guilt, but it became inevitable. It bubbled up and exploded; he couldn’t contain it anymore.

“Well…” he started, every so carefully pulling his wallet from his pocket, using two fingers to take out his credit card, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you another one? One more suitable for… flatter chests?”

You gasped like you’d never breathed air before, jumping to your feet, “Really? Would you really do that?!”

Jungkook shrugged casually, did everything to mask his thunderous heartbeat banging in his chest, “Yea, why not? I have money.”

At that, you squealed, jumping on both feet before you absolutely enveloped him in a hug.

Still staring at his reflection, Jungkook returns to Earth. You’re so childish and dumb, but he can’t help that he’s deeply enamored with you, and because of that, he’s going to go to the military and pretend like he never existed in the first place.

In the first few weeks at the military, Jungkook finds the distance more excruciating than he had when you ignored him. He enlisted in the first place to get his mind off you, to learn to live without you, but you’re the only person on his mind.

It certainly doesn’t help that he’s carrying a locket bearing your image, but he can’t bring himself to throw it out. He doesn’t even know why he has it in the first place, or why he had it custom made; he feels obsessive but whenever Jungkook’s on his last lap, his last pushup, or his last pullup, you’re the thought to propel him forward.

The military barracks are cold, dusty, and lonely. Sometimes, he can’t sleep, and on those restless nights, he finds himself reaching for the locket. Staring at the image of you smiling back at him, it’s like a tangible reminder of something he can’t quite explain.

He holds the locket in his hand, tracing the edges with its fingertips. He remembers your touch, your warmth, the way your hand fits perfectly in his.

True loser behavior.

You ignored him for fucking months, didn’t care how he was doing, or if he were laying dead in a ditch, yet he still loves you, still clings onto you. If he didn’t enlist, he probably would’ve ran back to you the moment you showed up at his place.

If anything, you’re not the type of girl who should be in a locket. You’re immature, childish, and rude, but he holds the locket close to his heart, because quite frankly, he hears how the men in the military speak about women, and he would never ever subject you to that.

Some guys hang up cute pictures and polaroids of their girlfriends on the bunks, which would almost immediately be thrown into the trash because of the insane comments from the (obviously single) guys.

Jungkook deems running as the most arduous drill in boot camp.

Jungkook can do three or five miles easily, but twelve miles with gear on? Absolutely not. What makes it worse is when the other guys try to make small talk- wasn’t running excruciating enough?

Even on the eighth mile, Jungkook clutches the locket tightly in his grasp. The sensation burning in his abs is borderline excruciating, and he opens the locket to glimpse at your image

James, the absolute deviant of the 8th squad, approaches Jungkook from the rear. “Who’s that, Jeon?” James asks.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut; this is the last thing he wanted. He says nothing, slightly accelerating in speed.

As James draws nearer, his tone dripping with mockery, Jungkook's muscles tense with apprehension.

"Come on, Jeon, spill it," James prods, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Who's the lucky lady in the locket?"

Jungkook's jaw clenches, his grip on the locket tightening. He knows the implications of revealing your identity in this environment, where vulnerability is exploited and secrets are ammunition.

"Just keep running," Jungkook retorts, his voice strained with suppressed frustration. Running 12 miles with 50 pounds of gear was already hell, why was he trying to pick a fight?

But James persists, matching Jungkook's stride with unsettling ease. "Oh, come on, Jeon, don't be shy," he taunts, edging closer. "Is she the reason you're always off in your own world during training?"

A surge of anger pulses through Jungkook's veins, his resolve fraying under James's relentless scrutiny. He fights to keep his emotions in check, knowing that any sign of weakness could be exploited.

With a steely gaze, Jungkook halts abruptly, turning to face James with a glare. "Back off, James," he warns, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, before he returns to his usual stride.

James's grin widens, sensing Jungkook's vulnerability. "Someone’s sensitive,” James teases, “Scared your girl’s with the mailman right now?”

Jungkook’s features harden, and he continues onto the ninth mile. His feet ache, and the mud is starting to seep into his socks. Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, but he’s cut off by Wooseok, who comes to his defense.

Wooseok bumps shoulder with James from behind. “Chill, James. He’s got her in a locket. Better not mess with that.”

Jungkook hates to admit it, but James got to his head.

Jungkook knows he’s the one who let you go, and that there’s no winning in this situation, but he’s selfish and the thought of you with another man makes him physically ill. Had it been any other girl, he would immediately lose interest the moment he discovered she was messing around with others- but the thought of you with someone else physically hurts.

He doesn’t have much access to his phone, and there’s nothing to take his mind off it.

There’s that taboo story about men in the military getting cheated on. It's a tale as old as time.

The fear of infidelity hangs over these soldiers constantly- but you’re not even his girlfriend.

So if you were to move on, there wouldn’t be a thing wrong with that.

Isn’t that what he wanted? For you to find happiness with someone your own age? Someone you would love, not just be infatuated with.

But fuck, why does it makes his heart swell? The thought of another man seeing you, feeling you, and touching you the way he has, the way he should be, makes him ill.

You know you said you were going to change, and you’re really, really trying. It’s been one month since your last encounter with Jungkook and you think things are taking an upward trajectory.

For one, you’ve started your internship with the local bank, and you’re making a lot of money (to your standards), definitely not a lot to someone like Jungkook, but it’s good enough for you. Since summer hit, you’ve retaken some of the classes you failed, and your GPA has now returned to the 3.0 range.

However, that doesn’t mean that your obsession with Jungkook has dwindled in the slightest. You’re childish in a sense, and you’re kind of taking advantage of your relationship with his parents to see what he’s up to at all times.

You’re snooping over Jungkook’s mother’s shoulder like the nosy girl you are, and you scandalously gasp at Jungkook’s text.

“Haha yea, Y/N looks pretty” is probably the most disingenuous thing he’s ever said about you.

Like sure, whatever, he’s calling you pretty but he’s only saying it because his mom asked him whether he thinks you’re pretty in the first place.

Your eyes continue skimming down the phone and you see something that makes your jaw drop to your ass

Jungkook’s mother shuts her phone off and squeals. “Oh Y/N! I can’t wait for Jungkookie to get married! I want grandbabies already, she pouts.

It’s like a punch to the gut. The thought of another girl walking down the aisle to marry Jungkook makes you sick to your stomach. It makes you so jealous you can’t fathom it. It's a visceral reaction, a knot tightening in your stomach as jealousy courses through your veins, clouding your thoughts and stirring emotions you never knew existed.

Every detail of the imagined scene plays out in your mind like a cruel movie reel, tormenting you with the painful reality of what could be.

With a forced smile, you manage to utter, "That's great, Mrs. Jeon. I'm sure Jungkook will make a wonderful husband one day."

Jungkook’s friends, in fact, do not hate you.

Actually, they’re quite nice and understanding of the situation at hand. Maybe it’s the fact that you shoved meat down their throats before explaining how you actually felt, or because you were somewhat valid in your decision to not acknowledge Jungkook’s existence for four months.

“He’s probably not mad at you,” Mingyu reasons, toying with the hem of his beanie before shoving a piece of beef into his mouth, “I don’t think he has the capacity to be angry at-”

Taehyung furrows his brows and Mingyu continues his sentiment, “at Y/N,” Mingyu clarifies, “He’d never be mad at Y/N.”

You sigh, using your chopsticks to flip some meat over, “He kicked me out of his apartment,” you express.

“No,” Taehyung contests, “You chose to move out, didn’t you?”

You chew on your lip apprehensively, suddenly finding the need to rake your fingers through your hair, “Yea, but I spent the night before he enlisted and he kicked me out in the morning.”

Taehyung pauses, exchanging glances with Mingyu. “By spend the night, you mean…?”

“Yes, I mean,” you confirm, “I just don’t want him to hate me. I know I fucked up, but I would never do anything to hurt him on purpose. I mean- not to use it as an excuse- but my parents’ suddenly died in a fucking car accident? Am I supposed to be normal after that? I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just couldn’t at the time, and I’m not sure if I can, at all.”

Mingyu purses his lips, “I just think he- you know- was super heartbroken. Y/N, Jungkook really loves you, and by love I mean that you’re probably the only girl he will ever love. He probably just needed time to process everything too,” he says gently, reaching out to give your hand a brotherly squeeze.

“You made him cry,” Taehyung asserts, and you pause.

“Seriously?”

Taehyung’s lips form into a straight line and he shrugs, “You made him cry. Showed up at my place in the middle of the night drunk and in tears over you.”

At that, you sink into the leather seat. Cry? You’ve known Jungkook since you were born and you’ve never seen him cry before.

You bang your head against the table- a little too hard- and you yelp in pain , clutching your forehead. Mingyu immediately whisks closer to you, gently removing your hand and scrutinizing the mark on your forehead.

You’re suddenly reminded of something Soobin said to you a couple weeks ago. Something about Jungkook’s friends are just as brotherly as Jungkook, always going the extra mile to take care of you, and suddenly you feel bad.

You groan, “Guys I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for things to get so messy. I’m sorry you have to deal with all of this- but I really care about Jungkook, I really do.”

Taehyung’s grumpy face finally relaxes, “We know you do, Y/N. No one is mad at you- trust me. But you have to make up your mind: do you want him or not? You can’t be wishy washy about this- Jungkook’s a lot older than you. He can’t waste his whole life waiting on you-”

“I want him,” you immediately declare, “I want him, and I’m ready to give everything to show that I love him.”

Mingyu smiles at you, “Well tell him that, not us.”

Your cheeks turn slightly pink. “Yea. I might.”

The rest of the night continues with ease. Mingyu and Taehyung ask you about school, give you professional advice for the future, and at the end of the night you reach over the table to give your card to the waitress, but Taehyung physically holds you back, and Mingyu gives his card to the waiter.

You’re truly so loved.

Things change and people change.

The first time Jungkook gets leave from the military is for the memorial service for your parents.

You’ve put the memorial service off for about a year. As their only daughter and remaining heir of your parents, the decision of when and where to hold the memorial service rested solely with you.

Yet, you just couldn’t bring yourself to go through with it, especially with Jungkook in the military.

Like the blossoming of spring, a year has passed, and at 21, you've graduated college, content yet eager for new beginnings.

When Jungkook's mother called you, brimming with excitement, inviting you to join in picking him up from the enlistment site, you couldn't find it in your heart to decline. Even when Jungkook kicked you from his apartment, you and he both knew that you couldn’t just fuck off from his life entirely.

Since birth, Jungkook has always been there. His parents, who are practically your aunt and uncle, have nurtured and cared for you since forever. You've shared in every significant milestone of his life, from graduations and birthdays, and when he gets married, you know you’ll be there, even if it tears you apart.

Your lives would be forever intertwined.

Had you changed since that night at his apartment? Kinda? Not really.

You've moved out from the mansion shared with friends to your own space. With a “lucrative” five-figure job, late-night parties and raves are a thing of the past. You’re all for early morning runs and late night reading.

With the anticipation of seeing Jungkook for the first time since that day, you find yourself more fixated on your outfit than you’ve ever been in your life. More so than prom, more so than Coachella, and more so than graduation.

Jungkook has only ever seen you in hoodies and sweats, a crop top and ripped jeans, or the occasional mini bodycon dress- you don’t think he’s ever seen you in business casual. You wear a chic satin blouse with jeans and closed toed heels.

Jungkook’s parents don’t really like to drive, so of course, you’re driving Jungkook’s Mercedes, (he so carefully left in the care of his parents), to the enlistment sight, which you’re sure he’ll be absolutely thrilled to see. He never let you drive his car out of the parking lot.

As you slide into the driver’s seat of the car, a wave of anxiety washes over you. This is the first time you would see him in an entire year- the longest you’ve been apart. What would he look like? Does he still have feelings for you? Is he still upset with you? Has he completely forgotten about you?

With a soft click, the engine hums to life, and you follow the GPS through the streets towards the enlistment sight. Jungkook’s parents sit in the back, occasionally passing you trail mix and bananas.

You pull up to the enlistment sight, waiting anxiously with your arms crossed amongst the crowds of people.

Jungkook emerges from the crowd in his military uniform, and your heart swells with pride and sorrow. He looks so handsome. He looks bigger, stronger, more rugged. You’ve seen celebrities and models in person before and they could never compare. You step to the side as he greets his parents, and when he turns his head, he locks eyes with you.

It’s like the world stops revolving.

It’s been a year since you’ve seen him and he never ever fails to make you feel this way. He’s made you feel this way since you were 15 and the feeling never dissipated, only amplified.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you swallow.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you in any type of way. His eyes scan over you and he sends you a genuine smile. “Hey Y/N,” he offers, opening his arms for a hug. You hug him from the side, reciprocating his polite smile. “Hi Jungkook. You look nice.”

“You look pretty,” he offers before turning towards his parents and casually taking the keys from your hand.

“Should we go now?”

Jungkook drives all the way home, with you in the passenger seat. You don’t say much. You find yourself simply listening as Jungkook shares with his parents what life in the military is like.

It was expected from everyone that Jungkook would do well in the army. When he was 15 years old, a personal trainer told him that he’d bulk up in muscle from just lifting a spoon.

After reaching home, Jungkook’s parents suggest you show him around your new place, and neither of you really have a choice but to oblige.

The moment Jungkook’s parents are dropped off at his place, an awkward silence absolutely encapsulates the inside of that Mercedes. You don’t say anything; you just lean your head on the window, looking outside the city where you and Jungkook have been for your entire life.

Jungkook says nothing either, tapping his fingers against the drivers’ wheel.

Finally, he speaks up. “Sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble in response, “You’re busy.”

“Yea.”

More silence overwhelms the car.

“So what did you do with your parents’ house?” he asks, flickering his eyes towards you. You push yourself further against the seat.

“AirBnb,” is all you can conjure.

Your parents were loaded and left you with a plethora of assets. The house, for one, is your second stream of income. You locked off yours and your parents’ room, and cleaned up the rest of the house for it to be rented out.

“Smart,” he offers.

“Thanks.”

He hums in response, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Instinctively, his hands reach towards the radio, turning the Bluetooth on, which of course is already connected to your phone.

Everytime by Ariana Grande blares through the radio, making you temporarily freeze.

I get weak and fall like a teenager

Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?

I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it

Self-destruct, show up like an idiot

Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?

I go back to you, back to you, back to you

Back to you, back to you, back to you

I go back to you, back to you, back to you, every time

You’ve had enough. You turn the radio off and roll the window down, your head peeking through from the outside while you let the wind blow against your face.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything either, just continues following the GPS to your apartment.

After what seems like forever, he eventually reaches the security gate. "4832," you mention, prompting him to enter the number and which opens the security gate.

“It’s good you live in a gated community,” he comments, “it’s safer that way.”

“Yea,” you agree, not really sure what else

You and Jungkook take the elevator to your place, and you punch the code in before letting Jungkook in.

Jungkook thinks your place is so you. It smells sweet, like vanilla. There’s a white, fluffy couch in front of the TV with stacks of Rilakkuma plushies. Your kitchen is clean, well organized; he sees a heart shaped bowl in the middle of the dining room table. Framed photos adorn the shelves: some of you with your parents, your friends, and one with him and his family from Jungkook’s college graduation.

You rub your palms on your jeans. “So, what do you think?”

“Nice,” he responds, “I’m proud of you.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thanks… I have a room prepared for you– but is there anything you want to do tonight? Mingyu and Tae can come over, if you’d like.”

Jungkook toys with his lower lip before he tilts his head. It slightly bothers him that his friends have been over at yours, and that you mention it so casually- but of course, he doesn’t mention it.

“No, it’s cool,” he responds, “You look tired. You had to drive a while to get me,” he offers.

“No, no,” you shake your head, “It’s fine. Not a big deal…. You look strong.”

Jungkook smiles, “Yea. Military drills and stuff,” he rests a hand on the kitchen counter and leans against it.

His eyes flicker towards you, looking you up and down. You gulp.

“I missed you,” you finally say, “... and I bought you something.”

Jungkook raises a brow, watching you daintily step into your room to pull out a small black box. You hand it to him, and he delicately opens it. A golden chain.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, “I see lots of military guys wearing chains and I thought you’d like one too,” you offer, shifting your weight between your ankles.

“Thanks,” Jungkook says, “Probably the first time you’ve ever gotten me a gift,” he jokes, to which you playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll wear it when I get back to camp.”

You nod, rising on your tippy toes a bit. “And I’m sorry. For last time… y’know.”

Jungkook's expression crumbles. He licks his lips, “It’s okay. I should have been more understanding. You were going through a lot,” he whispers.

You nod. “I know. But I should have communicated more so I’m sorry. Just so you know, I’m still…”

What should you say? I’m still in love with you? I still think about you every day? I’m nothing without you?

Jungkook’s features soften, and you bite your lip.

"I'm still... here," you murmur, the words carrying the weight of your emotions as you struggle to articulate the depth of your feelings.

Jungkook's expression softens, a gentle understanding dawning in his eyes as he nods in acknowledgment. “I’ll always be here too,” is all he says.

Again, silence overwhelms the room.

“Right… well, my head hurts a little so I’m going to lie down for a bit. Wake me up if you need anything.”

Jungkook tilts his head, approaching you before he presses the back of his palm against your forehead. “You’re burning up,” he murmurs, and you swat his hand away.

“It’s fine. Just nervous about tomorrow,” you murmur.

“I’ll call Yeonjun.”

You didn’t expect him to offer to take care of you, cater to your every whim. You really didn’t.

However, straight-up leaving a moment later most definitely caught you off guard. Deep down, you had hoped for a gesture of consideration, like offering to pick up medicine from Walgreens or Walmart, or something.

In that instant, memories flood back of how he cared for you after your parents died. He was so attentive, so sweet. He home cooked you breakfast, meal prepped lunch, and ordered you take out in the evening. You were so out of it, too weak to even function and Jungkook catered to everything you needed.

It’s almost ironic that he zoomed from your apartment the moment he discovered you were ill. You shrug. There's no need to dwell on it or feel upset. It was odd that his parents suggested he spend the night with you. He should be with his parents anyways.

Even though you prepared a room for him, Jungkook goes back to his parents that night, and Yeonjun to yours.

Yeonjun is one of your best friends in the entire world, really, so you’re sorry that you’re treating him like this.

“Yeonjun, if we’re both single at 30, wanna get married?” You plead from the couch, your head resting on the arm and your feet dangling above the backseat.

Yeonjun graces you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen in your life. Yet, he still drapes a blanket over your frame, placing a wet cloth on your forehead. He doesn’t even entertain the notion.

“Maybe go back to Sunghoon. He’d seem desperate enough to give you another chance,” Yeonjun murmurs, resting on the opposing side of the couch with his arms crossed.

You pout, before bursting into laughter. You roll from the couch and land on the floor with a thud. Yeonjun joins you, sitting criss-cross applesauce across from you. He wipes a stray hair from your cheek, a cup of Buldak seemingly materializing in his hands. Seriously. Where’d he get that from?

“Y/N, that man does not want you,” Yeonjun states matter-a-factly, his demeanor solemn, a juxtaposition to the goofy red sauce stained around his lips.

And you can’t believe it, but you actually find it in you to giggle at that. Teetering back and forth from where you’re sitting, you sputter out a clumsy “Seems like I’m getting deja vu. How many times in your life have you told me that?”

“Millions,” Yeonjun shrugs, stuffing his face with ramen.

“But you were wrong,” you muse, “I did have a chance with him. He said he was in love with me.”

“Yea,” Yeonjun agrees, before tilting his head, “but you fumbled.”

“I fumbled,” you concur.

“You traumatized that man. He does not want your musty ass,” Yeonjun teases, flicking your forehead with his vacant hand.

“He does not want my musty ass,” you concur once again, a teasing smile spreading across your lips, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Observing you, Yeonjun cracks a smile. “I’m glad you’re not being a crybaby about it anymore,” he comments, “FIrst loves are first loves,” he shrugs, “They say your second love is actually your true first love because they make you realize you weren’t actually in love with your first love.”

“Maybe,” you add, staring up at the ceiling fan swirling in circles and circles and circles- and it makes you dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Who would that even be?,” you ponder aloud, “Sunghoon is cute, but he doesn’t like me anymore.”

“Well, you can ask them, because I invited them over,” Yeonjun adds, suddenly locking eyes with you. You take a moment to process what he just said.

“What?-”

On cue, the doorbell rings, and Yeonjuns stands up, waltzing to get the door like he’s the owner of the damn apartment.

You scramble to your feet as Yeonjun swings open the door with a swish.

Heeseung and Sunghoon flood in, a teddy bear in Heeseung’s hands and a pot in Sunghoon’s.

Heeseung looks you up and down, sticking the teddy bear in your face. “Heard you were sick,” he says plainly, soliciting you to just blink at him.

Sunghoon scoffs from the side, “Yea Heeseung, just go add it to the stack of a hundred plushies she already has,” motioning towards your living room that indeed has a stack of Sanrio and Rilakkuma plushies in the corner.

You snort, snatching the teddy bear from his grimy little fingers. “Thanks… asshole.”

Sunghoon rummages through the fridge, placing his little pot in and taking a box of apple juice out. “I brought you dumpling soup. Just put it on the stove when you’re ready,” he instructs.

Heeseung joins Yeonjun in the living room, letting out a low whistle. “You have a pretty nice place, Y/N. Don’t miss living with us at all?”

You huff, stomping over towards Heeseung before pointing your finger in his face. “You slept with someone in my room!” you accuse, “No, I do not miss living with you!”

Heeseung puts his hands up, “Hey, I already apologized! That was in the past. I’m a born-again virgin now,” he continues.

You blink, exchanging a glance with Yeonjun before returning your gaze to Heeseung. The words leave you speechless, leaving you with nothing to say in response.

Nonetheless, you bend down to give him a hug, maneuvering to lie down on his thigh while you stare at the ceiling. “I have a fever guys,” you mumble, “Can’t have our entire university here bothering me and shit,” you joke, swatting their air like the boys are a bunch of pesky flies.

“Please,” Heeseung teases, “You’ll start crying the moment we leave.”

“Maybe,” slips from your mouth, and you run your hands over your face.

“What happened with Jungkook?” Sunghoon adds, a cup of Buldak ramen somehow also materializing in his hands. These boys are really raiding your ramen stash.

“Y/N fumbled,” Yeonjun answers for you, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

Heeseung puts a hand on your forehead. “Holy shit Y/N! You really are burning up… are fevers contagious?”

“How gentlemanly of you,” you murmur.

“Wait, let me feel,” Sunghoon intervenes, pressing one hand against your forehead and the other against his. He gauges it for a moment. At that moment, you do recall that Sunghoon’s dad is a doctor, and he might have some magical prognosis for the situation at hand.

“Yea, you have a fever,” Sunghoon confirms.

You and Heeseung roll your eyes in unison.

“But what happened with Jungkook?” Sunghoon questions, settling back into his spot on the floor.

“I fumbled,” you respond, using Yeonjun’s words exactly. “But it’s fine. It’s whatever. I have a memorial service to worry about tomorrow,” you mutter.

At that, a solemn silence washes over the room. It doesn’t make you feel any type of way. You wouldn’t know what to say to a girl who lost both of her parents either.

“You also fumbled Sunghoon,” Heeseung jokes, immediately easing the atmosphere and eliciting an Oh c’mon from Sunghoon and laughter from you and Yeonjun.

Genuinely, you found that funny.

You feel complete and content.

Throughout the night, the three boys took turns tending to you, diligently replacing the ice pack on your forehead. It was crucial for your fever to break, knowing that the following day was your parents’ memorial service (the reason why Jungkook is even back in town). Yeonjun, Heeseung, and Sunghoon ran home to change into proper attire, promising you that they’d get back to you as soon as possible.

Drifting in, adorned in a long black skirt and a matching blouse, a black ribbon delicately tied into your hair in a half-up, half-down style, you arrive at the memorial service site several hours ahead of schedule- to grant yourself the necessary time for mental preparation and to ensure the arrangements have been made.

Sitting alone in the parking lot, the floodgates of your own emotions explode, and you drown in your own feelings. Since Jungkook's enlistment, you've buried yourself in work- barely finding time to arrange everything for the upcoming service.

You realize you haven’t even taken a moment to process how you truly feel about everything.

You’re only 21 years old. This fucking sucks.

You ache for the warmth of your parents' embrace, desperately missing the solace only your mother could provide. In moments like these, you find yourself longing for her gentle hug, her soothing words, and her infinite love.

You feel tears well in your waterline, and you immediately wipe them with your sleeve.

You had to be strong for your parents.

They never liked seeing you cry, always told you to be strong.

With a deep inhale, you swing open the door and stride into the memorial service center, ready to attend to the necessary preparations.

The moment you step into the building, your eyes lock onto Jungkook.

Adorned in a somber black suit with his hands tucked into his pockets, he paces anxiously, his presence immediately drawing your attention.

This isn’t the time; it really isn’t, but he’s perfect. He’s so handsome, even without his hair, even when he doesn’t talk to you, even when you don’t see him.

When he senses your presence, he immediately turns towards you.

“Y/N.”

“Jungkook. Thanks for being here,” you say, pulling him in for another side hug.

“Yea, of course,” he mumbles, “You feeling better?”

You nod, “Yea ‘m good. My fever broke… did the guy say anything?” ou inquire, swiftly diverting the conversation.

Jungkook appears slightly taken aback, but he responds, "Yeah. Good. They have everything set up. They just need the portrait of Auntie and Uncle."

Dangling your keys in front of him, you continue, "They're in the trunk. Can you get them? I have to- I have to use the restroom." Jungkook studies your face for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Yeah, totally."

"Thanks," you mumble before darting into the restroom.

Obviously, you’re on the verge of tears and he could palpably feel and see that. Once inside the stall, the floodgates burst open. The despondency of everything absolutely devours you and you feel so pitiful, so sad that you’re in this situation, and that your parents are gone– forever.

Your parents are gone. You think Jungkook is gone. You have nobody. You’re alone. The family that you grew up with… it would never be the same.

After a moment of letting your emotions flow, you take a deep breath and wipe your eyes. You had anticipated this moment, knowing that you would inevitably end up crying like a little baby, so you had opted for a bare face today.

You leave the restroom, hanging your head, and when you look up, you lock eyes with Jungkook.

With furrowed brows, his eyes sweep over your puffy ones, noticing the glossy scleras and the tears welling up once again. Staring at him, you feel pathetic, and you let out a quiet sob before burying your face into your hands.

And suddenly, you feel him.

Like the comfort of the gentle breeze on a Spring day, Jungkook envelops you with his strong arms, and suddenly everything’s okay. He holds you and it’s reminiscent of all the times he’s cared for you, doted on you, and expressed his love for you. He soothingly runs his hand up and down your back, pressing you against the wall and away from the eyes of bystanders.

You remain still, sniffling and drying your eyes, overwhelmed before pulling away. Jungkook runs a hand over your hair, eyes glazing over your face. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t need to.

The way he looks at you is enough. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

The beauty of your relationship with Jungkook is that in itself. It would be alright. Everything would be alright so long as he’s there- even just as a friend.

To love someone is to love from afar. To love someone is to love without reciprocation. You love Jungkook and he loves you. Some people are so filled with hatred and resentment- the ability to even love after all you’ve been through is astounding in itself.

Your love for Jungkook is a powerful thing. It would carry you far, and to simply possess the ability to love is far more significant than being in a relationship with him.

“Y/N!” On cue, Yeonjun makes his appearance in the lobby, tilting his head when he sees you and Jungkook standing closely together by the hallway.

Jungkook motions towards Yeonjun, and you nod, not before you stand on your tiptoes to give him another hug– not a side hug, but a real hug. “Thank you,” you whisper against his neck before you skip towards Yeonjun and your other friends.

The memorial service begins and ends with reverence.

Surrounded by your family and friends, you begin to feel overwhelmed by your sense of community.

The service room is reminiscent of that of a church. You sit on the front row, Yeonjun on one side and Yunjin on the other. Both of them are holding each of your hands as you listen to your maternal aunt tell stories of your parents from their youth.

Through her words, you get a glimpse of your parents in their youth– just two kids stupid in love, youthful, lively, and brimming with aspirations. It gives you peace that they were able to live their dreams out before they died- one of those dreams being seeing you graduate high school. It’s a shame they weren’t present at your college graduation.

After listening to your aunt, your grandma, and Jungkook’s mom. Jungkook is next. You didn’t know he’d be talking, but his mom let you know that he had something prepared.

He saunters towards the front from the second row, hands in his pockets, before he clears his throat, taking a piece of paper from his pocket, coughing against his closed fist before he speaks up.

“Auntie ___ and Uncle ___ were the most selfless people I know. When my mother couldn't join me for Mother's Day lunch at school, Auntie __ stepped in. As I learned to ride a bike, it was Uncle ___ who stayed outside with me for hours, patiently assisting me as I struggled to find my balance,” he starts, meeting your eyes before looking back into the general audience.

“Auntie and Uncle were filled with so much love and trust. They embraced a more liberal parenting style, trusting in the inherent kindness of the world to play a role in shaping their daughter's character.”

It’s funny, because as he’s speaking about you, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. “They exposed her to life's various facets, both its joys and challenges, instilling in her a deep understanding of the world's complexities. And their approach paid off. They leave behind a daughter, one of the most compassionate and beautiful souls who embodies traits of independence, strength, and intelligence.”

Your heart clenches, and you raise your lashes, hanging onto his every word. You can feel your heart beating against your chest.

“To honor their legacy, let’s approach the world with less caution and more trust. Embrace the goodness of the world and live happily, just like Auntie ___ and Uncle ___ did. Thank you.”

Jungkook still doesn’t meet your eyes as he returns to his seat, but yours follows his all the way to his seat.

Right after the memorial service, Jungkook catches you off guard. He strides over, giving you a hug– a full hug– before whispering in your ear, the baritone of his voice causing goosebumps to erect on your skin. “I have to go now, but stay safe. I’ll see you when I get back.”

You look up at him, nodding. “Yea. See you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, walking towards his parents and taking the keys to his own car before he leaves. All your friends watch Jungkook just as intently, but nobody says anything. You don’t talk about Jungkook much with your friends anymore. There’s not really a reason to.

And just like that, you don’t see Jungkook for another six months.

The next time you see Jungkook is when he comes home from the military.

This time, you aren’t able to join his parents to pick him up, and it’s not because you’re avoiding him, but because you have an important meeting at work– a meeting that you just can’t wiggle your way out of.

Apparently, the higher ups are announcing something– something so important that apparently they need the entire company present…. And why couldn’t have this just been an email?

As the hours tick by, you sit in your cubicle, completing an analysis of consumer behavior for a client. Work isn’t particularly exciting nor is it a bore. You currently work in consulting, specializing in data analysis to help clients make decisions for their businesses.

At 4PM, an hour before everybody goes home, the higher ups gather everyone into the auditorium.

You sit next to Mary, one of the colleagues on your team, about 50 years old, who taps you on the shoulder and whispers. “My oh my, if they wanted to kill us all, this would be the perfect time to drop a bomb,” she jokes, which makes you smile.

That was a cute comment. You place your hand over hers. “Well, at least we’d go out together, right? HR won’t have to spend any more on those team building exercises,” you joke with a gag, prompting Mary to roll her eyes.

The tension in the room is palpable as the CEO takes the stage and clears their throat, prompting everyone’s attention.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm pleased to announce that after months of negotiations, we have finalized a merger agreement with HYBE Korea," the CEO declares, gesturing towards the screen where the company logo appears.

“This means that some of the departments will be relocating to HYBE," the CEO announces, his voice projecting as he gestures towards the screen displaying the company's new logo. "HYBE is investing in a new building equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, providing us with an exciting opportunity to expand our operations."

You pause, and that’s when the realization sinks in.

Jungkook works for HYBE.

"In celebration of this milestone, we will be hosting a party next month to commemorate the merger. More details will be sent through email.” the CEO continues, his words met with a ripple of applause and relieved smiles from the crowd. "It will be an opportunity for us to come together as a unified team and celebrate the bright future that lies ahead."

Mary’s saying something to you but you’re not even processing it, trying to understand the implications of the merger.

There’s no way you’d be working with Jungkook– imagine the odds of that. But, what if?

He gets back today and everything feels surreal.

After you get back to your car, Jungkook’s mother calls you, excitedly urging you to drive over to her place to celebrate Jungkook’s return from the military. You tell her that of course you’ll be there before you start driving down the oh so familiar streets to Jungkook’s child home.

Upon pulling up, you see a familiar face.

Rolling down the window, you call out his name, “Tae!!”

Taehyung, who is in the midst of walking towards the front door, whips his head towards your voice. “Y/N, hey!”

He waits for you to park, you clumsily grabbing onto your purse so you can meet him at the front.

“I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you too. Text me more,” he responds before scanning you up and down, “You look… fancy,” Taehyung comments to which you sigh playfully.

“You know, I chose to waste my life away as a corporate slave,” you muse, giving him a hug.

“Just like your boyfriend,” Taehyung jokes, making an obvious reference to Jungkook.

“Oh shut up,” you sigh, swatting his bicep, allowing him to open the door for you.

The moment you walk in, Jungkook’s mother squeals like she’s never seen you in her life. “Omo, omo, omo! Y/N is here everyone!” she announces excitedly, scurrying over to you, immediately latching onto your bicep to pull you towards the crowd, “Y/N is here! Y/N is here!”

Jungkook is standing by the dining table, surrounded by his aunts, uncles, and cousins. He lifts his head to meet eyes with you, offering you a gentle smile. The way he looks at you, smiles at you– it’s just, it makes your heart swell.

Every time you see him, it’s like time slows down.

You can imagine waking up this smile every morning, rolling over to find his handsome face gazing softly at you to-

Wait. Have you lost your mind?

And at that moment, you’re tackled to the ground by Jungkook’s six year old cousin, Jacob. If Jungkook is no longer in love with you, the only solace you have is the affection of his six year old cousin.

He grabs your face with both palms, causing your lips to pucker as he pouts at you. “Why didn’t you say hi to me?”

You gently grab his face and ruffle hush air. “Sowwy, Jacob. You’re too little I didn’t see you,” you reason to which Jacob, for some reason, becomes angry at.

He rolls over onto the ground, just to get up and stomp away. “I am not little!” he declares, stomping up the stairs. You can hear the door slam and you exchange bewildered glances with Jacob’s mother, who shakes her head.

“He's just going through a bit of a phase," she reassures you with a smile, before turning to follow Jacob upstairs. You lock eyes with Jungkook, who gives you a subtle smile.

The Jeon family is filled with drama queens.

Jungkook closes the distance between you. “Hey.”

You feel your heart skip a beat.

He’s as handsome as ever. Just like he’s always been.

“Hey, welcome back,” you sheepishly express, standing on your tiptoes to give him a hug.

He hugs you– like, really hugs you. Both of his strong arms snake around your waist, holding you against him securely. It leaves you weak in the knees. It’s a little too intimate for a casual, welcome back hug, but you haven’t a problem with it.

He pulls back, and all you can do is stare at him. You’re mesmerized. Again, he always makes you feel like this. This feeling will never dissipate.

“Did you just get back from work?”

You come back to Earth, pulled from your entrancement.

“Yea, I did…” You scan him up and down. He’s wearing something casual– a black T-shirt and black shorts, but his physique still looks perfect and he still looks perfect. Without thinking, you speak, “Did you happen to hear about the- no, nevermind.”

Jungkook tilts his head with a slightly teasing expression, “No, say it,” he urges

“The merger.”

“Merger?”

You say it in unison, and you bite a smile back.

Jungkook’s mom automatically intervenes, “Omo! Omo!” she exclaims, “A merger? What merger?”

“Y/N’s company and my company are merging,” Jungkook simply answers, looking at you to raise his brows.

“Omo!” she exclaims again, almost theatrically falling to her knees, “Does this mean that you two will be working together?” she asks, motioning towards you and Jungkook, to which you sheepishly shake your head.

“Probably not,” you dismiss, “I don’t even know if my department is relocating to the new facility.”

“Oh, I hope you do!” Jungkook’s mother pouts, “That would be absolutely perfect! It would be great if he could watch over you at work,” she reasons, before addressing the entire family, “Y/N is very pretty and gets hits on a lot,” she explains, making you squeeze your features in embarrassment.

All of Jungkook’s older family members murmur in agreement– and you appreciate the hype, you really do, but it’s embarrassing, especially in front of the entire family. You place a hand on Jungkook’s mother’s shoulder. “Excuse me for a moment, I’m going to use the restroom,” you whisper, to which she gives you two big thumbs ups.

On your way to the restroom, you stop in your tracks. None other than Yeonjun, the ANTAGONIST, steps out, swatting the air like he’d just taken a nasty shit.

You blink at him and he blinks at you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you deadpan.

Yeonjun shrugs, “Jungkook’s aunt invited me. She thinks I’m a cutie pie.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes, walking past him to inconspicuously drag him with you into the restroom.

You throw him onto the toilet seat, looking into the mirror to touch up your makeup.

“Y/N, this looks suspicious,” Yeonjun deadpans, watching you reapply your lip gloss and comb through your eyebrows.

At that, you drop your hand from your face. “Oh shit, that’s true,” you gasp, a hand coming over your mouth.

For the past– like– two years, Jungkook’s family has been under the impression that you and Yeonjun are dating. That notion couldn’t be farther from the truth.

You inhale sharply, turning towards Yeonjun, “You leave first and then I’ll follow.”

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Sure thing, Y/N. Just pray that nobody’s waiting outside," he says with a mocking smile before slipping out of the restroom.

And of course, Jungkook’s mother was right outside the door. She shrieks.

Every single one of Jungkook’s aunts and uncles met you when you were just an itty-bitty baby.

Occasionally, you keep in touch with the aunts and uncles– not nearly as much as you do with Jungkook’s parents, but goodness, are you thankful for your connections to the Jeon family because you find out that Jungkook’s uncle won the lottery.

The literal lottery– and he bought a yacht, a yacht that he suggests to all the “kids” (a bunch of 20-something year olds, pushing 30) to go on a little cruise in celebration of Jungkook’s return.

You really wouldn’t be yourself if you didn’t rush home to get your bikini and sunscreen, and of course, you dragged Yeonjun along with you.

The yacht, even under the night sky, is the fanciest, most luxurious thing you've ever laid eyes on. Its lights twinkle like stars, casting a gentle glow on the water. It's like a dream come true, a magical oasis on the dark sea.

This is so cute, so summer.

With your towel laid against the deck, you’re lying on the deck like you’re suntanning, which isn’t possible because it’s the moon’s light that shines down on you, but at least it makes you feel like a magical moon fairy.

“Get the angles right!” you bark to which Yeonjun rolls his eyes to the back of his head and groans.

With your forearm resting against the deck, you hold your body up sideways, all your assets on display. With your knees touching, your hip touches the deck, and your other arm goes up in the air, and you’re waving it around like a little mermaid.

In a sense, you’re posing to get a cute Instagram pic– but also because you know Jungkook might be watching from the upper deck. He’s probably drinking with his friends, not even batting a lash nor caring about you, but you like to delude yourself into thinking that he could be checking you out from a distance.

“Y/N, I took like 300,” he deadpans, dismissing your complaints with a wave, “Take some for me now,” he instructs, standing up to hand you his phone, “I’m cuter than you so they better look better than yours.”

“Yea, yea. Whatever,” you muse, going along with the bit, holding up your phone to get all the good angles for your forever bestie.

Mingyu, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook sit on the upper deck, staring at the night sky with bottles of Soju in their hands. Like you and Yeonjun, they’re in their swim trunks, though no one is entirely certain they want to go for a swim in the chilly water.

Unbeknownst to you, the four men have a clear view of you from the upper deck.

The flash of the phone camera flickers comically, occasionally lighting up the mens’ faces as they all try to avoid looking at you– out of chivalry, of course.

Taehyung is particularly amusing, maintaining his expression of stoicism as he stares directly into the moon, taking an occasional sip of Soju.

At that moment, Jungkook knows that he chose the right friends because he himself can’t seem to rip his eyes from you. You’re beautiful; that is absolute, without a doubt– but something has changed– maybe it’s the angle that the cool breeze hits his face or the alcohol making him feel soothingly warm on the inside.

Jungkook sees it in your mannerisms, the way you poise yourself, the way you walk, the way you talk. You were gorgeous before, and he was insane about you before, but damn– you’ve become such a woman.

He knows what it is, but he’d be a dick to patronize you for it, to act like he’s proud of you for becoming more confident. Undoubtedly, you’ve developed a more profound sense of confidence and it makes Jungkook swell with pride because he remembers how you’ve agonized over your body, complaining about your boobs, your weight, your waist, when in reality everything was and is perfect.

You’re as beautiful as a Victoria’s Secret model, as ethereal as the goddess of beauty, and Jungkook’s just happy to see that you’ve embraced it.

You yourself would agree with the sentiment; it wasn’t until your 20’s that you grasped how utterly gorgeous you are, and how to embrace your beauty, make yourself look good and like you, not just like every other girl on Instagram.

Jimin clears his throat, “So.. now that you’re back, are you and Y/N going to…”

Jungkook lifts his head and looks at Jimin. He shakes his head. It’s firm and absolute. “No, it’s better for us to be friends.”

Mingyu raises a brow, “You can’t take your eyes off her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he rationalizes, “People can like each other and still be incompatible.”

“Incompatible?” Taehyung repeats, a twinge of confrontation in his voice, “If I had a girl like Y/N in my life I’d propose immediately.”

Jungkook stares into the moon, “I need a cigarette-”

“Okay, what is wrong with you?” Jimin challenges, rising to his feet, “Y/N is right there,” Jimin whisper-yells, motioning towards the lower deck, “You clearly still feel something for her, so do something about it. I mean- how would you feel if someone– not me… I don’t know. How would you feel if Mingyu hit on her right now? And they started dating?’

“Why me?-”

“That would be inappropriate,” Jungkook retorts, “Y/N can date whoever she wants, just not you guys.”

“Then what about Yeonjun?” Taehyung intervenes calmly, “Yeonjun’s a good kid. She brings him to all your family events. They’re cute together, huh?” Taehyung motions towards the lower deck, where you and Yeonjun are laying on your sides facing each other, animatedly discussing something probably stupid, like penguins.

He notices the skinship, how your hand is casually thrown around Yeonjun’s waist, and how you occasionally swat at his shoulder whenever he says something a little too egregious.

No, it doesn’t bother Jungkook.

Jungkook actually likes that you have male friends, that you can maintain friendships with the opposite gender without it having to mean more.

It means that he can trust you, and that he can trust your friends to take care of you.

But what trust is at stake here? It’s not like you’re his girlfriend nor should he worry about who’s taking care of you or not taking care of you. Furthermore, it really isn’t his place to feel betrayed, like you cheated on him, by the prospect of you actually forming a relationship with Yeonjun–.

“See? You look hurt as fuck,” Taehyung affirms.

“I’m not hurt-”

“Get your shit together, and get your girl. Y/N’s not perfect, but she could be perfect for you,” Taehyung shrugs at his corny play of words, earning a playful shoulder nudge from Mingyu.

“Aye, that was a good one.”

On cue, he hears two inconspicuous splashes into the ocean, your squeals echoing across the atmosphere.

“Tag, you’re it!”

“Bitch! You just kicked my balls!”

“I said tag, you’re it!”

But wait, isn’t it a little too dark to be swimming this late?

When it comes to you it’s like Jungkook’s protective instinct never dies.

Descending the stairs to the lower deck, he watches Yeonjun as he climbs onto the deck. “Y/N, you need to stop kicking my nuts! Holy shit!”

“I said sorry!” you retort, “I didn’t know!”

Yeonjun grumbles something indistinctive before picking a towel up to roughly dry his hair, disappearing into the restroom.

“Y/N, it isn’t safe to swim alone at night,” Jungkook mumbles. He takes a seat on the lower deck, his feet submerged under the water. The water is icy cold, and he can’t conceive how you’re not shivering. He’s not being patronizing. He’s simply worried for your safety.

You swim towards him, hands latching around his ankles to stabilize yourself beneath the water.

It’s the casual skinship between you two. The way his hand lingered on your shoulder when he told you his uncle bought a yacht. It’s the way he can casually wipe food from your mouth with his bare hands without batting a lash. It’s the way your fingers trail up his legs so you can place your forearms against his thighs, resting your head on them.

“Then… why don’t you come join me..?”

Jungkook really doesn’t want to. The water is cold, the weather is cold, and he’s very much comfortable on the warm yacht.

….

Jungkook submerges himself under the water, coming up before flicking his head back to rid the water from his eyes.

“It’s cold as fuck, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters, body temperature still adjusting to the chilly water.

He freezes when your fingertips brush against his. abs— perhaps accidentally, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make him feel any less electrified.

“That’s why it’s good to have more than one person in here,” you rationalize, “More body heat.”

You’re treading against the water, and not doing a great job at it- your head bobs with the motion of the waves, and you find yourself sputtering the water out of your mouth as you speak.

Jungkook wipes his face haphazardly with his left hand before he reaches out to stabilize you, holding onto your bicep.

It makes your heart skip a beat. So big and strong. You can smell the shampoo on his wet hair, and it makes you dizzy because not only does he always look good, he always smells good.

Your eyes trail from his bicep to his shoulder, neck, and finally, to his eyes. He’s already looking at you, the warmth of his gaze making you feel so secure and safe.

You know he wants you. There’s no way he can look at you like this and not want you.

It hasn’t even been a day since he’s returned from the military and he looks at you the same way he looked at you from the night before he left: with love.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips, his pretty lips. He’s so pretty. You close the distance, wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize you further, and you draw your lips to his-

Until he turns his head.

Still, his hands grab your waist, holding you close to him against the water, but he looks into the ocean, 90 degrees from you, refusing to look at you or meet your eyes.

“It’s cold, we should get out. I don’t want to get sick,” he suggests.

“Yea, okay,” you sheepishly agree, allowing him to hoist you onto the lower deck before following in your stead.

He throws you a vacant towel, “You alright?”

Catching it with a single hand, you use it to pat yourself dry, composing yourself before you stare at him.

“I’m fine.”

That night, Jungkook’s mother suggests you spend the night at her house, or that Jungkook drive you home given how late it is.

Instead, you sneak out of the house and drive home, far too embarrassed to be around Jungkook let alone look him in the eye.

That was so humiliating. You think about how you behaved while you were staying with him after your parents’ death. You exposed yourself to him in the shower and begged him to join you. What the hell were you even thinking? Should you just drive your car off this cliff?

When you pull into your apartment complex’s parking lot, you keep banging your head against the steering wheel in hopes that maybe you’d wake up and realize that tonight was just an embarrassing dream.

Well, unfortunately it wasn’t a dream, because later that night Jungkook shows up at your door with your wallet in his hand. You answer the door in a loose T-shirt, boyshorts, and a Snorlax plush headband on your head with a gray face mask.

“My mom told me to give this back to you.”

You take the wallet, “Thanks.”

You stand there for a moment, staring at him.

He looks at you, pursing his lips before he places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’ll always care about you, alright?”

You nod, fidgeting with the charm of your necklace, “I know.”

“Good. I’ll be going, then,” Jungkook announces.

“Alright, drive safely,” you respond.

With a brief nod, Jungkook moves to shut the door and depart, and for some reason you just can’t bear to see him go so your hands instinctively reach for him, latching around his wrist.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you, and you almost yank your hand from him immediately.

“It’s nothing,” you express, biting your lip.

“Alright then, I’ll see you.”

“Good night.”

The moment he leaves, you scold yourself for being so emboldened. Weren’t you embarrassed enough? You open your fridge, pouring yourself a glass of champagne, before you pace around your apartment, your champagne swishing in your glass while you find yourself in deep contemplation.

Jungkook’s back.

Everything you’ve ever wanted is back, in front of you.

You hurt him, and apparently you made him cry, well- that was all in the past, anyways.

It doesn’t matter because you love him. You really do. You love him with your entire soul, heart, and being, and you know your feelings are reciprocated, so if there’s even a chance that he’s willing to give it another shot, you’ve got to do something about it.

Instinctively, you grab your laptop and place it on the dining table, stretching your fingers out to write the longest text message you’ve probably sent in your life.

Once your pinky finger presses the Enter key, you slam your laptop shut, pacing around your apartment until you hear a ding from your phone.

You nearly screech, running to your bathroom to wash off the face mask, putting some moisturizer on, combing through your eyebrows, and applying your lip gloss before-

Ding Dong

You open the door, looking up at Jungkook with big eyes while he looks down at you. He runs his hand through his hair before holding your face with his palms, studying you, his eyes urgently scanning your features for any hint of insincerity.

“You mean it?”

“Yes,” you say resolutely, struggling against his firm grasp, your lips slightly puckering.

“Prove it then,” he demands.

He lets go of your face and welcomes himself into your humble abode.

Taking a seat on your couch, he crosses his arms, watching you intently as if waiting for you to break out into a soliloquy.

You don’t know what to say, and you’re far too embarrassed to admit your transgressions aloud, until a light bulb appears over your head.

“My diary,” you suggest, “I’ll let you read… parts of my diary, but you have to prove it first.”

You expect him to ask you how, or to ask you what he’s supposed to be proving, but he doesn’t.

“Okay. C’mere,” he says with a tilt of his head. All you can do is shift your weight between ankles, before shyly approaching him.

“Sit,” he gently instructs.

You nod, about to seat yourself on the area beside him before he grabs your wrist and twirls you around so that you’re straddling him. Your hands find themselves on your shoulders, and Jungkook wraps his around your back.

“Y/N, I..” he starts, his gently brown orbs studying your features, “I know what you think of me,” he sighs as if just relinquished from holding the weight of the world, “and I promise you that I’m not that man,” he continues, scrutinizing your every nonverbal response.

“I’m selfish, I’m immature,” he starts, brushing your bangs from your face, “but never with you,” he finishes. “I always showed you the best parts of me, always wanted you to see me as someone you can rely on,” he expresses, gently cradling your face, “but I don’t think you realize how much I depend on you, how much I need you too.”

Your features scrunch, studying his features, digesting his words. He reaches in his pocket for something, before pulling out a heart shaped locket. He uses his other arm to delicately grasp your hand, placing the locket in your hand.

“Look at it,” he instructs, and you follow, your fingertips clumsily opening the locket. Your heart swells. The heart shaped locket bears an image of you.

“Being in the military wasn’t easy for me,” he continues, “but I had you with me. Had my favorite girl with me. You gave me strength.”

“When you left that morning, I regretted what I said to you. I thought I was too harsh, and that I’d lost you forever. That was one of the worst feelings in my life– but to me, I felt that you were the one who turned me down. I thought that you were just infatuated with me, that you wouldn’t care about me if you’d see how immature and selfish I really am. But I love you so much that I was okay with that. I’m okay with anything as long as it’s you,” he finally finishes.

You don’t know what to say. Your eyes flicker towards the locket, “You could’ve chosen a better picture,” you mumble, to which Jungkook amusedly scoffs.

“That’s all you have to say?” he muses.

Your cheeks turn strawberry pink, and you climb off his lap, running to your room to grab your diary. You return, skipping through the pages, before you land on the one you want to show him.

You jut it towards him, “Here.”

Jungkook’s eyes glaze over the page, and he starts reading it aloud, mocking your voice, “I graduate college today-”

You literally throw yourself on him to shut him up, “Do not.”

A cheeky smile dances across his face as his eyes scan over the page. After a moment, he looks up and pouts, “Awe, baby,” he coos.

Your face scrunches cutely.

“Come gimme a hug,” he sweetly beckons, to which you sheepishly jump into his lap again, his arms snaking around your waist while he soothingly runs his hands up and down your back.

“I’ll always be here for you, whether we’re together or not,” he whispers against your skin, “You mean everything to me.”

“I know,” you self-consciously respond.

"There's nothing you can do to be 'worthy' of me. I love you for you. You can be the world's richest person or the world's poorest person and there's nothing that would change for me, seriously. All you need to do is continue loving yourself, and that's good enough for me."

"Even if I turned into a worm? You'd still love me?" you ask, your voice coming out as a slight whimper.

Jungkook smiles. Obviously not, but of course, he'll indulge you. "Of course," he says, his voice like honey, "I'd carry you around in my pocket."

"Thanks," you sheepishly murmur, “There are just things I’m worried about, but I trust you with everything.”

He hums in agreement, “We’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” you concede, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you forever.”

“I love you forever too.”

The moment feels so intimate. Your chests are heart to heart, beating in unison as you relish the sensation of having him in your arms, having him back.

Dating Jungkook officially means you get to indulge in all of your innermost desires, the little things you never thought you’d see into fruition– because the reality is that you’ve seen Jungkook in every way. He’s been to your house thousands of times, and you’ve slept over at his hundreds of times, but having him in a different way fills you with an indescribable sense of excitement and joy.

He’s taken you shopping thousands of times, but this time is different. Jungkook is affectionately, overwhelmingly so. He’ll keep his fingers intertwined with yours even when your palms become drenched with sweat. As stated before, he doesn’t care about any distinct bodily fluid if it’s yours.

He’ll hold you from behind while you browse through clothes, give you the occasional peck when you’re in line– it seems like he’s enjoying this domestic intimacy as much as you are. The poor guy has been in the military for a whole year.

“That one’s cute,” he comments, motioning towards a white sundress hanging on the rack, just beside the crop top you’re currently looking at. He keeps your body close to him, his arms so casually thrown around you from behind. His fingers play with your hair, twirling it around his index, and every so often, he presses kisses to your cheek, neck, and skillfully cradles your face, forcing your jaw towards him for a sweet kiss.

“Should I try it on?” you ask with a cute tilt of your head.

“I like it,” he offers, “I rarely see you in dresses. You always look so pretty.”

His sentiment makes you blush– you’re already aware that when he’s around, you’ve only really been in casual clothes: crop tops, sweatpants, and flared leggings. You want to show him a new side of you.

“We could go to the beach together,” you offer.

Jungkook hums in agreement, “Of course, baby,” he agrees, “You looked really pretty in that matching skirt and crop top thing you wore last time.”

“Which one?”

“The one you broke my heart in,” he teases.

You amusedly scoff, twirling around to grab his face and press a kiss on his lips. He acts annoyed, doesn’t return the kiss, just stares down at you, but still chases your lips when you pull away.

If the skinship is this pervasive in public, you can’t imagine how he would behave behind closed doors.

Jungkook got back yesterday, and you think that he’s really taking his fill of you after being deprived from you for so long.

Yesterday was Friday, and today is Saturday… meaning that neither of you have nothing to do.

Nothing to do but look at cute princess dresses at the mall, cuddle, and watch Jujutsu Kaisen, obviously.

Even while doing something as mundane as watching anime from the floor, you sit in between his legs, back pressed up against his chest, and his arms around your waist, fingers playing and pinching with the chub of your tummy.

He can’t keep his hands off you.

The sounds of Gojo and Toji’s fight are drowned by the pounding of your cardiac palpitations. Jungkook’s large hands are splayed against the front of your body, his hands trailing up and around your stomach and back, rubbing your skin, and sinking his fingertips into your chub.

You gasp softly when you feel him unclasp your bra.

He pulls his arms around you even more securely, tugging you onto his lap before he buries his face into the crook of your neck, “You’re so soft,” he murmurs, and his hands return to your stomach– and you think they’re going to trail up. Perhaps he’ll grab a handful of titty or rub a nipple until he doesn’t-

His hands trail to your legs, rubbing his palms up and down each calf lovingly before he laces his fingers through your toes, and gently pushes you off his lap…?

He rises to his feet. “I’m hungry, want me to make some ramen for you?”

“Uh yea, sure,” you smile.

You and Jungkook have done it before: twice. Once at the beach villa and the second before he enlisted.

Every time was magical, electrifying, the best you’ve ever had. He led you through each and every step with expertise and he was so soft, so sweet, and it felt so fucking good.

Admittedly, your past, insecure, and inquisitive self did some snooping around and you are aware of Jungkook’s body count: 13. You were the 13th, and quite honestly, it didn’t make you feel the greatest; you despise the thought of Jungkook with another woman, but you suppose that there is something nice about having an experienced man.

It’s not like you weren’t inexperienced either.

Your body count was– like– 6.

It’s not like any of the men before Jungkook actually made you come. It felt good, you guess, but having sex with someone you’re in love with is indescribable.

You want to do it with him, but there’s something that makes you feel subconscious about making the first move, especially when it comes to something as intimate and forth putting as sex.

You don’t find yourself seductive enough to do so, and you already have societal norms against you.

Women are the gatekeepers of sex. Men are the ones who want to unlock the gate. Blah Blah Blah.

Well, you want to have sex too because you’re unbelievably in love and aroused by this man.

So, would you be making the first move? You’ve changed a lot since the emboldened 19 year old you once were.

In conclusion, no. You will absolutely not be making the first move. You will just have to suck it up.

That Saturday night, Jungkook stays over at your place.

Nothing happens, of course, but that doesn’t mean that Jungkook doesn’t spoon you like a prison inmate incarcerated in his little Jungkook cell. He snores softly against the crook of your neck.

Living alone isn’t easy, especially as a 21 year old (subjectively hot) girl. You double lock your doors. You have a baseball bat with nails hidden in the depths of your closet. While Jungkook was in the army, you had Yeonjun, Soobin, and Beomgyu on speed dial just in case anything were to happen.

It was stressful, and it gave you crippling anxiety at times.

But Jungkook is your Prince Charming in every way, from the way he makes you feel, to the way he dotes on you, and to the way he protects you. Jungkook’s got big strong military muscles, and you know that he’d never let anything happen to you.

Since forever, he’s always casually swept you towards the inside of the sidewalk, stepped in front of you when a stranger approached, and of course you aren’t aware of this, but the reason those creepy frat boys started leaving you alone was because of him.

The sun rises, its sweet rays as warm as the feeling intensifying your chest. Jungkook’s arms are still draped on your sides, and you turn over so you can get a real good glimpse at his sleeping face.

So handsome. Jungkook is sleeping calmly, soft snores leaving his mouth, and it brings you so much joy to see him at peace.

You run a thumb over his brow, pressing a soft kiss to the area in between his eyebrows. Slowly, his eyes open, and he’s staring at you with lidded eyes, and you can’t fathom how handsome you think he is.

“G’morning baby,” he says in a soft voice, the grogginess of his morning voice making you gulp.

“Hi,” you sweetly respond, “Sorry for waking you. You can go back to sleep. It’s Sunday,” you say folding the comforter away from you to sneak out of bed.

Jungkook protests with a hum, “I want you to stay with me,” he mumbles.

“You don’t want breakfast?”

“Can’t sleep without you,” he responds, his chest rising slightly, which makes you pout.

“Alright.”

Peace. Serenity. Serendipity. Everything you’ve ever wanted. You’re so in love.

Later that day, you get an email from the company, which is surprising since it’s Sunday, but essentially, the email states that your department will be transferring to the new HYBE facility. You flip your phone to show Jungkook the screen, who is sitting across the table stuffing his face with noodles with a Snorlax headband in his hair.

On cue, Jungkook’s phone dings, and he pulls out his phone.

“Oh shit,” he says aloud, “Same.”

You’re a bit taken aback, “Are you serious?” you ask, scrambling to your feet before racing around the dining room to glimpse at Jungkook’s phone.

Dear Jungkook, We're pleased to inform you that your department facilities are relocating to a new, improved location. This move is part of our ongoing commitment to efficiency and employee satisfaction…

You exchange glances with him, blinking at him momentarily before you speak.

“You’re going to get sick of me if you have to see me everyday,” you deadpan, prompting him to theatrically roll his eyes.

“You do analytics, I do software development. We’re not even going to be on the same floor,” he declares matter-a-factly, “You’ll probably be with… the marketing girls or something.”

“Oh really?” you muse, raising your brows, “You don’t want to see me at work? You’d rather be with those ‘marketing girls’?”

Jungkook purses his lips, staring at you unimpressed, before a smile spreads across his lips.

“If I see you at work,” he whispers, fingertips dancing along your thigh before his palms grasp the backs of your thighs, pulling you towards him, “I won’t be able to focus. I’d be too distracted keeping my eyes on the pretty girl from the Analytics department.”

You blush slightly, “Oh- oh, shut up.”

“What? It’s the truth. Either you or I have to quit, and it won’t be me. I have seniority over you.”

You know he’s joking, but the notion makes you scowl. You step out of his grasp, “That’s not funny,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

He shrugs, “I could really turn into the sugar daddy you’ve always dreamed about.”

“Don’t undermine me because I don’t have as much experience as you do,” you direct, to which Jungkook theatrically drops his jaw, rising to his feet.

You look him right in the eye, maintaining your glare as he starts to tower over you. “Oh c’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” he comforts.

You shake your head, rolling your eyes, “Asshole,” you spit, stomping away from him, to which Jungkook follows.

“Seriously? I was joking!” he reasons, following you to your room. You walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it before he can trail in your stead. At that, Jungkook scoffs, not believing that you were taking it this seriously.

He knocks on the door. “Y/N,” he calls, dragging out your name.

You don’t say anything, and he squeezes his eyes in defeat when he hears the sound of the shower starting, opting to slip into your bed whilst waiting for you to return. He sighs, running his hands over his face.

To be honest, Jungkook is a little triggered. He hates the whole silent treatment thing more than anything else. Last year, you ignored him for four months straight and it nearly killed him on the inside.

Minutes later, you emerge from the shower, one towel wrapped around your body and the other wrapped around your hair. You cross your arms, staring at him. The towel wrapped around your frame is loose, threatening to fall beneath the nipple.

Jungkook sighs, standing up and sauntering over. Your eyes are glossy, not from the water from the shower, and the tip of your nose is a cute shade of pink. Your features are twisted up into petulance, your lips displaying a subtle pout.

Seeing you in distress pains him too.

His gentle and careful fingers pull the towel above your breast. He knows you feel vulnerable and he doesn’t want you to inadvertently expose yourself and contribute to that vulnerability, his left hand rubbing your nape up and down gently. “What’s wrong, baby? Hm?” he inquires sweetly, bending over to draw your lips in for a honeyed kiss.

“I just–” you start, unable to meet his eyes as you crane your head the other way. Jungkook gently cradles your jaw, directing your focus back to him. Looking into his eyes, you choke up. “I just– I know you weren’t being serious, but I just feel belittled, like is my work so unserious that one day I’ll just end up being a trad wife or stay at home mom?”

Jungkook feels awful. He was already aware that you had some sort of inferiority complex when it came to him, and knowing that he fed into it makes him regret everything he’s ever said.

Jungkook opens and closes his mouth immediately, looking for the right words. He places both palms on your shoulders, “Shit. I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean it that way at all,” he expresses, “I was just– I was just being a dick,” he says, pulling you in for a hug. “I don’t think of you that way at all,” he continues, “I mean– look at you. You’re 21 and you’re rich, you’ve got a good job. You’re up there with all these old people,” he jokes, eliciting a sweet giggle from your lips.

“I only said it because I love you and I like the thought of taking care of you,” he says, to which you squirm.

You squirm in place, looking the other way, “So are you mad at me? For ignoring you?” you sweetly beckon, and Jungkook draws your lips for another sweet kiss.

“No, baby. I’m thankful you said something, though,” he offers, continually rubbing your nape up and down.

“I can take care of you too,” you declare, “Remember? We’re equals now,” you express, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

That night, Jungkook helps you change into your clothes, dries your hair, and rubs your skincare into your face. So delicate. So sweet

There’s something so wonderful about having someone you can confide in, communicate with, and love. Jungkook never judges you; all you have to do is explain how you feel and he’ll indulge you completely.

That doesn’t mean however, that Jungkook can’t be selfish, immature, or childish.

The night he confessed to you, he told you that he could be all those things, and to be honest, you’ve never really seen it directed towards you.

When he was a teenager, you saw him get mad at his parents when he was caught smoking for the first time. You were a kid, but you thought that was pretty childish.

Beyond that, Jungkook has always been chill, more laid back, and normal.

Not tonight, though.

“That was childish,” you deadpan from the passenger seat of his car.

Jungkook reaches over to place his palm on your thigh, to which you swat it away and lean as far as you can into the window.

Jungkook scoffs, “You’re calling me childish? Out of all people, you’re calling me childish?”

You cross your arms. “I am,” you respond, your voice firm and resolute.

You both were on your way back from the company party celebrating the merger. The company went all out, hosting the party at a luxury hotel, illuminating the hotel’s grand ballroom with twinkling chandeliers and neon signs displaying the company’s name.

You arrive as a pair, nothing too conspicuous for the sake of professionalism. You’re wearing a long sleeved dress, with Jungkook in a casual black button up and gray slacks.

You quickly separated to meet with your respective departments, and when you happened to pass by Jungkook’s department, he went out of his way to greet your coworkers, introducing himself to your department like he’s never seen you before in his life.

The other men in Jungkook’s department are quite put together. They seem like the type of people Jungkook would work with: young, objectively attractive, tech-nerds. You greet all of them with the same enthusiasm Jungkook greeted your department, knowing that they may be potential wedding guests.

At the moment, you aren’t quite able to recall their names but he works with six other guys. They didn’t really leave a lasting impression; they were kind, sweet, and polite, nothing out of the ordinary.

Notably, it was Mary– your kind, sweet, amazing 50-year old coworker and work bestie, who brought her son to the party. That was not something you were expecting, mostly because Mary always teased you about becoming her son-in-law, and you always entertained the notion, not expecting that you’d meet the man in person.

Mary’s son is in his early 30’s, and he is… nice.

He’s nice, he really is. He’s an intelligent, hard-working man. He takes care of his sweet mother, and for that, he is admirable, but you think there was some miscommunication there, because he is definitely under the impression that you are interested in him in some way, shape, or form, and you feel horrible about it, because you don’t think Mary knows you were playing around.

Mary's son leaned in with a charming smile. "So, what do you like to do outside of work?" he inquires, his gaze lingering on you with a subtle hint of interest.

You hesitate for a moment, "Oh, you know, the usual. I enjoy reading and hiking when I have the time," you reply cautiously.

Mary's son nods, his smile widening slightly. "Sounds like we have some common interests. Maybe we could do something together sometime.”

Your heart sinks at the implication of his words, but before you can respond, your big, hot, sexy boyfriend intervenes. Jungkook had his eye on you the entire night– nothing too conspicuous, but he made sure you were always within his field of peripheral vision.

Jungkook steps in, a champagne glass in hand. He playfully nudges Mary’s son and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading what’s yet to come.

“Must be quite the occasion for you to be hitting on your mom’s coworkers,” he cuts in making you run your hands over your face, “Let me put you on to something else,” he continues, “I mean, you’re a handsome guy, and I know that there’s someone else more suitable for you than a 21 year old, alright bud?” he continues, throwing a casual arm around Mary’s son as he leads him elsewhere.

Okay, it wasn’t that bad.

But it was embarrassing.

Jungkook seemed polite, but his language was more than passive aggressive, and anyone who caught heed to the conversation tangibly felt it.

“I was literally being nice!” Jungkook rationalizes, his fingers tapping against the driver’s wheel, prompting you to huff in frustration.

“You should have let me handle it,” you respond, “I was going to turn him down. Next time, don’t do all that, alright?”

“You were not going to handle it,” he retorts, “You were mumbling– baby, you were blushing– definitely entertaining it,” he adds.

You shake your head, “That was my coworker’s son! If it was any other guy I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I had to be polite.”

“Yea, well, and if it was any other guy, I would’ve beaten the shit out of him so what’s your point?”

“Oh my gosh,” you express, face palming.

“C’mon baby, he was being totally predatory for hitting on his mom’s coworker,” Jungkook argues, “I didn’t even say anything that bad. Had a nice conversation with the guy.”

“It was childish, Jungkook,” you counter, “The fly on the wall could sense your passive aggression.”

“I’m such a big bad wolf for saving my girlfriend from a situation she was uncomfortable in. Aww,” he mocks a pout, dragging his pointer finger across his face to mimic a tear.

At that, you can’t help but scoff out laughter. “You’re so stupid,” you muse.

That situation was merely the tip of the iceberg.

You weren’t that angry; Mary’s son was out of line and it’s not like Jungkook said anything too egregious, but it’s the next day that Jungkook really shows you how immature you can be.

The following Monday is yours and Jungkook’s first day of work.

Jungkook is so in love, loves seeing you in a new light. It’s like there’s hearts in your eyes when you “coincidentally” run into each other in the second story printing room, finding the way you work when you’re in professional mode so sexy.

It’s like he has hearts in his eyes while he leans against the company’s wall, hands in his pockets while his eyes follow you from across the office, loving the way you simply walk around with a stack of paper in your hands.

That is, until the CEO of the fucking company starts hitting on you. That’s when his smile drops, and he removes his hands from the pockets. He instinctively steps forward to intervene yet again, until he remembers that this is actually work and that he can get both of you fired by doing anything too crazy.

“Quit your job,” Jungkook instructs the moment you get back to his place, causing you to almost drop your work bag onto the floor.

Maybe you didn’t hear him properly, “What’d you say?” you ask, taking off your shoes and joining him in the kitchen.

“Quit your job. I’ll help you find another one,” Jungkook suggests, rummaging through the fridge, as if it isn’t the most ridiculous idea you’ve heard in your life.

“I’m sorry babe. Can you repeat that one more time?”

“Quit your job, Y/N,” Jungkook finishes, slamming the fridge a little too hard. He’s clearly miffed. He’s doing that thing where he tongues the inside of his cheek. His eyebrows are in an angry V, and his chest is heaving up and down— and honestly, the fact that he’s angry calms you a little bit.

He’s just speaking from emotion, and now you need to be the voice of reason.

You force a smile, sneaking around to hug him from behind, resting your cheek against his mid-back.

“And why do you say that, honey? Hm?”

He swivels around, placing his palms on your shoulders. “Y/N, this isn’t funny. The CEO was being creepy as fuck. Turn in your resignation tomorrow, and I’ll start looking for another one. I’ll pay your bills until we can find you another job,” he states.

“C’mon babe,” you start, “the CEO was not being creepy. I’m the youngest at the company. He was just being nice.”

At that, Jungkook’s features scrunch in confusion, detecting any hint of sarcasm on your face. “You really think that?”

“I do.”

Jungkook sighs, “Y/N, rate yourself on a scale from 1-10, on societal standards of beauty. 10 being– like Anok Yai. Where do you stand? Be honest?”

The question is absurd, but you entertain it, putting your fingers on your chin while you genuinely contemplate the assertion.

“Maybe a 6?-”

“Okay, well, you’re an 11, and every guy feels that way. You don’t know how pretty you are and that’s my fault. I should tell you more, but baby– that’s how pretty you are. The CEO was hitting on you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, so quit your job.”

You stand there, processing his words, and while the sentiment is somewhat touching, you can’t lie and say that you aren’t the least bit upset, especially because you had this conversation about your work a few days ago.

“No,” is all you say.

“No?” Jungkook challenges.

“No,” you confirm, “I’m not going to quit my job. The CEO hasn’t done anything,” you reason, gesturing with your hands, “If he gets out of line, we can consider reporting him, but I’m not going to quit my job.”

“Okay, fair,” Jungkook says putting his hands up, and you smile, thinking that this conversation is over until he continues.

“But why would you wait for something bad to happen? Isn’t that totally absurd? I don’t want to wait for it to happen. Let’s play it safe.”

You sigh, “I see what you’re saying, I really do. But I don’t think anything is going to happen. I think you’re overreacting…”

Jungkook pauses, tonguing the inside of his cheek before a sly smile dances across his lips. “Overreacting, huh?”

“Um, yea,” you confirm, “Why would I quit my job? I’d lose all my connections. I mean– this is the only real employment I’ve had. Besides internships, I’d have nothing to put on my resume.”

Jungkook nods, understanding.

What he really wants to say is “Babe, just quit your job and I’ll make all the money. You’ll never have to work a day in your life and then we’ll retire early and travel the world together with our kids and-”

But that’s totally patronizing, but hey, he can’t help himself if he feels that way.

“So what do we do, babe? The CEO is in a position of power. I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of,” Jungkook expresses, his eye twitching.

What he really wants to say is “I literally saw the CEO’s dick getting hard while he talked to you and if I could, I’d shoot his entire office up-”

But of course, he would never utter the sentiment aloud.

“If it gets to that, we could report him for sexual harassment,” you ponder.

Jungkook nods in agreement, but you and he both understand the implications of reporting your CEO for something like that. Women always get the short end of the stick. People would probably accuse you of lying, the CEO would leverage his resources to legally ruin you, and you both could lose your job security.

Jungkook doesn’t want to even let it get to that point, and he’s trying his best to respect your autonomy, but it bothers him, it really does.

He inhales deeply, finding peace in the way your fingertips dance under his skirt, caressing his abs before you pull him in for a hug. “Nothing is going to happen, baby,” you comfort, “Everything will be alright, I promise.”

Indeed, everything is not alright, because the CEO repeatedly calls you into his office for some inconspicuous reasons, and you’re suddenly starting to understand where Jungkook is coming from.

Your only solace is that Jungkook is around the corner. Today, he’s wearing a suit and tie, his wire-framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks exceptionally sexy today, his long legs accentuated by his suit and his hair swept back to show his sexy forehead.

You put your phone down, looking up right when the elevator doors open to reveal a handsome, suit-clad Jungkook.

“Hello Mr. Jeon,” you express, a smile dancing on your lips when you bow to him and saunter into the elevator.

“Hello Ms. L/N,” Jungkook responds matter-a-factly, pushing up his glasses on his nose, “Strange running you into here.”

You bite back a giggle, “Yea, that is indeed strange. How is work for you, sir?”

“Oh work’s alright. The team is-”

And just like that your lips are on his, and he’s devouring you completely. Your legs wrap around his waist as he hoists you up, pressing you against the elevator doors as he sloppily and messily kisses you. Tongue in your mouth, teeth clashing, his groin grinds against the area between your thighs, inducing you to moan into his mouth while Jungkook continues licking into you and–

Ding! The elevator dings and you and Jungkook instantly scramble apart, resulting in you running to the other side of the elevator, smoothing out your skirt while you catch your breath. You cough, hand coming at ease in front of you while you stare at the floor. Jungkook behaves similarly, pushing up his glasses while he clears his throat and straightens his tie.

A second later, the elevator doors open, and more office workers pool in. You and Jungkook greet them politely, feigning innocence and ignorance.

The next day, something similar transpires.

You’re wearing a long, red skirt, a white blouse, and you have a white ribbon in your hair. You love work because it grants you opportunities to put together cute, modest outfits, and apparently, Jungkook likes it too, because you always catch him looking.

He checks you out quite noticeably, his eyes shamelessly scanning up and down your frame as he bites his lips. Your cheeks flush, and you take a moment before you sheepishly step into the elevator.

“H-hello, Mr. Jeon,” you greet.

“Hi Ms. Y/N. How are negotiations with your new client going?” he asks, adjusting his tie.

“They’re going great, sir-”

And like that, he closes the distance, cradling your jaw before leaning in for a kiss. His hands salaciously trail down to your behind, giving it a light squeeze, causing you to gasp in his mouth. He takes that as an opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan as your tongues rub against each other and-

Ding!

Once again, you scramble apart, separating towards each end of the elevator, recomposing yourselves while more people pool in.

Not a soul would know what really transpires in the elevator everyday at 3:00 PM.

Unless there were cameras in the elevator.

Which there were.

Which is crazy because of course there are cameras in the elevator, and quite honestly, you and Jungkook were probably aware of that in the back of your minds, but who cares? Making out with him everyday in the elevator at 3:00 PM is hot and it’s what gets you through the work day (until 3 PM)

You and Jungkook get Cc'd the same email from HR.

Dear Employees, I hope this email finds you well. We need to discuss an incident observed via security cameras in the elevator involving two employees engaging in intimate behavior. This is a violation of company policies on workplace conduct. Please attend a meeting with HR to address this matter.

Oh shit.

You and Jungkook wait outside the conference room to talk to the HR. You blink at each other, and honestly you want to burst into giggles, but the conference room is made of glass and you aren’t really sure who’s watching.

The HR Manager, a tall lanky man, steps from the office and invites you in.

The meeting isn’t awkward at all— in fact, it’s more straight to the point. Essentially, the HR manager says something along the lines of “You’re free to date in the office, but no PDA. We don’t encourage dating because we want our employees to focus on work. I know you guys are amongst the youngest in the office, so if you want to do–erm— that, then you can go somewhere else during lunch.”

Both you and Jungkook profusely apologize, promise it won’t happen again, and then are off on your ways.

Funnily enough, the CEO stopped approaching you and calling you to his office so yea, neither of you quit your jobs, and Jungkook was overreacting, a little bit.

Now, the real question remains.

How do your friends feel about your relationship with Jungkook?

They want to see you happy, always, so that aspect brings them joy, but it’s important to address how things change.

Before, Jungkook was the unattainable, hotter, older man that all your friends told you to get a grip over because there was just no way he’d ever reciprocate your feelings. But now, things are different.

If Jungkook is your boyfriend, that means he’s your equal… so if your friends are your equal, does that mean Jungkook is equal to your friends? It’s just the transitive property of equality. If a = b, and b = c, then a =c.

But that’s weird.

You know you shouldn’t be making a big deal of it, but your friends are like little piggies and Jungkook is the wolf. There’s no way all of you could hang out at the same time without it being weird, because every time Jungkook has interacted with your friends in the past, it’s always been in a big brotherly way, not a friend way.

On top of that, Jungkook has never officially met Heeseung or Sunghoon, and he is very much aware that Sunghoon was interested (and potentially still could be) in you, which is probably why you all are sitting around the sushi table in awkward silence.

Soobin is hyperfocused on his the wrapper of his chopsticks, Beomgyu is repeatedly dipping his chopsticks into the Miso soup to lick at, Yunjin already excused herself to the restroom, and Heeseung is just staring at Jungkook in awe, which is understandable, because your boyfriend looks exceptionally handsome today.

Yeonjun is probably the only one who can carry the conversation, mostly because he’s the most closely acquainted with Jungkook and his family.

You elbow Yeonjun softly and he clears his throat, “So, um– Jungkook. Does your family still think Y/N and I are together? Or have you already told them that you’re dating?”

Soobin finally says something, “Wait, why would Jungkook’s family think that you and Y/N are dating?”

“Just because I brought him to a couple family events, and they got the wrong idea,” you respond, delicately tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We haven’t let them know yet,” Jungkook answers, stretching out his upper body, “I don’t think that conversation will go over smoothly because of the… age difference.”

Yeonjun nods, understanding, “Yea, and your little cousin might be upset about it too,” he adds.

“Oh yea,” Jungkook smiles, addressing the table, “My little cousin is six years old and he’s got the biggest crush on Y/N. He probably won’t talk to me for a year once he finds out,” Jungkook says with a light laugh.

Oh my gosh. This is so awkward. You inwardly cringe, but leave it to Beomgyu to ease the atmosphere.

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu adds, “If you didn’t want her, Y/N would have just waited for your cousin to grow up cause at least the cousin likes her-”

You reach over the table to swat at his bicep.

At that moment, the side dishes arrive: perilla leaves, radish kimchi, steamed egg, pickled cucumbers, and spicy bean sprouts.

Thank goodness the food is here, you think, even if it’s just side dishes. Yunjin returns from the restroom, seemingly renewed as she takes the space between you and Yeonjun, and she starts talking.

“You know, Jungkook,” she starts, “Y/N really loves you. I, for one, am happy that you’re together. She’s been non-stop talking about you since high school. She showed up at my house crying when she heard you were bringing your girlfriend to Thanksgiving-”

You nudge Yunjin, a nonverbal cue to tell her to shut up.

Jungkook awkwardly laughs, “Yea, I know Y/N had a crush on me when she was younger but I didn’t realize until a couple years ago… Anyways, Y/N’s not the same person she was when she was a high schooler. I fell in love with her after she turned 19, of course.”

“But isn’t that still a problem?” Sunghoon challenges, and your face almost drops.

You know where this is going.

“You knew her since she was a little kid, so isn’t it kinda weird for you to date her?” he asks. The question is innocent, and it’s a valid question, but you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of Jungkook’s answer.

“Some would say that,” Jungkook responds, “But our relationship isn’t about who she was. It doesn’t matter to me that she had a crush on me when she was younger, it’s about who she is now, and I love her as she is,” he finishes with a smile.

Sunghoon nods, “That makes sense,” he shrugs. At that moment, you use your chopsticks to pick up the perilla leaves, which are, of course, stuck together. Sunghoon casually reaches out with his chopsticks, separating the leaves and plopping one into his mouth.

You freeze, and you do what you should, placing the perilla leaf over Jungkook’s bowl of rice, and he almost immediately uses his spoon to swallow the perilla leave along with a spoonful of rice.

No one seems to notice, and the conversation continues.

“So what’s it like working with your girlfriend?” Heeseung asks casually, and the conversation continues, taking an upward trajectory, the atmosphere finally settling down.

“He still likes you, Y/N,” Jungkook says matter-a-factly, hanging up his coat in his closet while you take off your shoes by the front door.

You tilt your head, genuinely confused, “Who?”

“Sunghoon.”

You shake your head, dismissing the notion, “No, that was in the past. I heard he has a girlfriend now.”

You join Jungkook in his bedroom and he’s staring at you incredulously. “Are you serious?” Jungkook asks, causing you to scoff, “Of course I am!” you retaliate, “He’s over me. I turned him down straight up; I didn’t even entertain his feelings for me. I told him I was in love with you, remember?”

Jungkook's expression softens, and he takes a seat on his bed, “I know baby, but I’m just saying that he still likes you. Remember what I said?-”

“About me being an 11?” you question, amused, “Yea, nobody thinks that except for you,” you confirm with a nod, taking a seat on his lap when he opens his arms for you.

Jungkook shakes his head, “I’m not saying it’s anything bad, and I’m not saying I don’t trust you, but I just want you to know that he still likes you. He even tried to give you an indirect kiss,” he says, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

You raise a brow at him, giggling at the tickling sensation of his lips ghosting across the sensitive areas of your neck, “An indirect kiss?”

“Yes,” Jungkook confirms, “An indirect kiss– the perilla leaf?”

You shake your head. You immediately recall a stupid conversation Jungkook had with his friends. “They peel off one perilla leaf, next thing you know, they’re holding hands, and fall in love, and they end up getting married!” is what he said, causing his friends to roll their eyes.

You place a chaste kiss on his lips, “You’re stupid,” you giggle.

He looks at you knowingly. Jungkook isn’t per se, worried about you and Sunghoon. He knows Sunghoon’s a respectful enough kid to not make a move, and he trusts you with his entire heart, soul, and being. He just wants you to know that Sunghoon most likely still harbors something for you.

Of course he would. Like Jungkook said, you’re an 11.

The delicacy of his feelings for you seeps into everything he does, especially when you’re sick.

Nestled with your head cradled in the curve of his arm, he gently massages your temples with his right hand, ensuring the damp cloth on your forehead remains refreshingly cool, soothing your feverish brow.

You're drifting into slumber, your eyes half-closed as you softly shift against his embrace. With him around, with his fingers assuaging the ache in your temples, you finally feel safe enough, protected enough to lose yourself in your own vulnerability and drift into dreamland.

Later that day, you wake up with Jungkook right by your side. His eyes are on the TV and when he hears your soft mumbles, he welcomes you back to Earth.

“Kiss me please,” comes out in a soft whimper. You’re barely coherent and you’re asking for a kiss? That’s the cutest fucking thing on the history of the Earth, and Jungkook’s heart clenches. You’re so sweet, so precious, and he’ll gladly oblige.

He pulls you onto him so you’re lying directly onto him, your boobs pressed against his chest and your stomach pressed against his.

He kisses you sweetly, indulging you completely while your tongues intertwine, and he sighs into your mouth blissfully.

At that moment, you hear the sound of a thud hitting the floor. You and Jungkook whip your heads towards the sound– it’s his parents.

“J-Jeon Jungkook! What do you think you’re doing?!” his mother shrieks.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook texts #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jk fanfic #bts fanfic

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freedomfireflies · 1 year

Text

Watch Me*

Summary: An extra for Teach Me*

It wouldn't be a party with Harry if there wasn't some light fighting and exhibitionism...right?

Word Count: 3.2k

*Contains Mature and Explicit Content. Take care of yourself first, only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“Shit…easy—easy, Bee. For fuck’s sake. Are you trying to fucking kill me?”

Your eyes roll in response to Harry’s whines as you continue pressing the cotton ball into his skin. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to be gentle.”

“Oh, mhm. I can see that,” he snorts, leaning back against the wall. “I think you just like seeing me in pain. Sadist.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Maybe.”

Your strokes are gentle but quick. The fluffy, white fibers of the gauze work to absorb the crimson stains smeared across his knuckles as the alcohol seeps through the broken skin.

He hisses again from the vexatious sting before settling once more. The small bathroom falls quiet, save for the sounds of the party happening throughout the rest of the house, but you feel his eyes glue to your face.

“Bee?”

Your brow raises but you keep your attention on his hand. “Hm?”

“Are you mad?”

Great fucking question.

You take a moment to find your response. Waiting until the wound is officially cleaned before tossing the cotton ball away and turning to him.

“No,” you say truthfully. “I know why you did it. And I know you could have really hurt him if you’d wanted to.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip in thought, wincing some when he feels that injury as well. “Yeah, well—” He reaches up to press his thumb into the cut, “—I was feeling generous.”

You chuckle under your breath as you retrieve another tissue. Then, after dampening it with a bit of water, you push up onto your tiptoes and press the paper to the nick on his mouth.

“Still,” you murmur, gently padding the bruise, “I can’t be mad at you for wanting to defend me. Even if it was kind of dumb.”

His attention never leaves you. “I’ll always defend you.”

You smile.

“Especially from him,” he adds, glancing toward the door with furrowed brows, almost as if Eric is waiting right on the other side. “God, I fucking—he’s an ass, Bee.”

“Yes, I know,” you tease, stepping back to dispose of the tissue before grabbing the wrapping for his hand. “That is kind of his whole thing. Although you didn’t exactly help.”

Harry turns back to you, blinking innocently as if absolutely dumbstruck by the notion. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“No?” You begin bandaging his bloodied knuckles with the utmost care, despite the sarcastic tiff you two are in. “So…you sticking your hand up my shirt and sucking on my neck so he’d see was just…a happy coincidence?”

“I mean, I was pretty happy,” he argues.

You smirk, arms crossing when you’re through covering his hand. “Trust me. I know.”

“Look, I was just…enjoying the party,” he replies, shoulder lifting in a nonchalant shrug. “S’not my fault he just so happened to start watching.”

Your smile grows. “You wanted him to watch.”

He allows for a moment to look at you. “So did you.”

His tone has dropped to a devious murmur as he pushes off the wall and closes the small space between you.

Your lashes flutter. “Says who?”

“Says you.”

“Yeah? And when did I say that?”

He comes to a stop about a foot away, his chest thisclose to brushing against yours. The potential contact makes your head spin.

“When you were grinding against my cock,” Harry whispers, the proximity allowing for each word to dance across your cheek. “When you were whimpering my name. When you were guiding my hand under your little sweater the moment he looked over.”

He dips down, hoping to intimidate you, and you don’t want it to work…but it does.

“Isn’t that true, Bee?” he continues. “Wanted him to watch me touch you. Wanted him to watch me do what he never could. Wanted me to fuck you right there in the middle of that room and let him see how good you are for me.”

Your breath catches on the need bubbling up the back of your throat as you let him trap you against the sink.

“Asked you a question,” he pushes, his head cocking as his battered hand begins to reach for you. His fingers slip across the material of your sweater, and it seems innocent enough. For now. “Even though I already know the answer.”

“Yeah?” Your response is airer than you’d like. “And what’s my answer?”

The tip of his nose momentarily ghosts across yours as he hums. “Your answer…” he replies before you feel his bandaged palm smooth across your stomach, “…is yes. Yes, you wanted him to watch me ruin you. Yes, you wanted him to see the way you come for me. Yes…you want him to know how fucking well you behave.”

And maybe you shouldn’t be, but you’re so goddamn turned on right now. You hadn’t expected to see such a violent side of him tonight, but watching Harry beat the ever-loving shit out of your ex changed something for you.

Perhaps with a little therapy, you’ll discover why, but tonight…tonight you want to chase this feeling as far as it’ll take you.

Your hand finds his hair, nails scraping at his scalp as you tug him the last few inches. “Har—”

“What?” He keeps his lips from you. Either because of the fact that they’re busted or because he’s trying to taunt you. But no matter the reason…it makes you whine. “What is it, hm? What do you want?”

Your other hand finds his shirt as your fingers desperately tug on the once clean, white material now painted with splatters of blood. His and Eric’s.

“You,” you breathe, as if it were obvious. “Please, Har—”

“No.” He straightens up, taking hold of your wrists to tug them away from his body. “No, I wanna hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

He smiles. “That you liked it.”

With an overdramatic huff, you lean back against the porcelain sink. “And what is it that I’m agreeing to liking? Him watching us or you knocking his teeth down his throat?”

He hums. “Both.”

Torn, you bite the inside of your lip in thought. “…fine. Fine. I liked it. Happy?”

His head shakes once before he’s leaning back in. “I want you to tell me…how much you like it…when I play with what’s mine. When anybody could see.”

The recall to the conversation that night in the restaurant is like a tug on your heartstrings and instantly, your walls crumble.

You grab onto his face and smash your lips into his. And it’s a bit messy, and rushed, and not at all gentle from the way he hisses against your mouth from the assault to his cut.

But the moment you attempt to pull back in an effort to ease his discomfort, he puts a hand on the back of your head to keep you close.

He likes the pain.

You smile into the kiss but aren’t afforded the chance to revel in this gleeful discovery before he’s groaning under a strained breath and turning you around.

It’s almost violent the way his hands meld to your hips as he rotates you. Forcing your stomach to meet the sink as your eyes meet the mirror.

Your reflection is much too telling. You see your surprised expression, your wide eyes, and your swollen lips.

You see the soft stain of his blood smeared across your mouth. See the angry marks littering your neck from his previous display of dominance in the living room. See the way your chest rises and falls from the ragged breaths you’re trying to take.

And then…you see him.

Standing behind you, his body pressed firmly to yours. You see the way his arms snake around your middle, the white dressing around his knuckles catching your attention as you follow it down your body.

He’s moving for the button on your jeans, tugging almost angrily until he can yank the material down to your knees.

You’d forgone any underwear when getting dressed earlier. Something that wouldn’t be a standard choice for you when wearing a rough material like denim. But tonight, this choice was intentional.

You hear (and see) Harry growl the moment his eyes find the object sitting snugly between your ass.

And although he’d actually watched you put it in, he stares at it as though this the first time he’s ever been witness to something so beautiful.

You feel the rough fibers of the gauze ghost across your skin as he gently runs his finger over the tip of the plug. He murmurs something under his breath you don’t catch (but sounds a lot like, “Pretty.”) before he looks over your shoulder.

You find each other. And in this one, unspoken moment…you feel everything.

The wounded hand sneaks back over your hip as he reaches for your cunt. And you watch with a racing pulse as the reflection shows you exactly what you’ve been needing.

He keeps you cemented to his chest as he slips two nimble fingers down your stomach. He finds your clit but bypasses it without a second thought, making you squirm a bit in his determined hold.

He travels down your cunt until he can find the mess you’ve been making for him all evening. Until he can feel just what having this plug inside you has been doing to help you along. Until he can take a taste for himself.

Scarlet spots of blood are already seeping through the white bandage as he eases a finger inside. It has to be one of the most erotic things you’ve ever been privileged to see, and you clench pitifully as your head drops back against his shoulder.

He grins with this and adds a second finger in beside the first. He’s decided that tonight isn’t the night to be gentle. To go easy and give you time. Tonight, he wants to take what’s his.

His other hand works on his own pants and the sound of his zipper coming undone makes a shiver run down your spine.

You watch his light wash and incredibly torn jeans travel down his thick thighs before he’s reaching into his briefs.

You can’t see his cock, but you can feel it hit your ass cheek as he brings it out and pumps it a few times.

You’ve been needing him all night. All damn day, in fact. And this teasing lull he’s enforced only reminds you of this ache in your stomach as you whimper. As you silently plead with him to pick up the pace and feed your insatiable habit.

You have a feeling the tiny jewel between your ass is doing wonders to help him along because while you know he’d normally prolong such an event…tonight, he’s quick to kick your feet apart.

He runs the tip through a time or two before finding your eyes in the mirror.

“Ready?” he murmurs, soft breaths trickling across your shoulder.

You nod, fingers curling around the edge of the porcelain to brace yourself. “Always. Go.”

He smirks at your eager insistence before he’s pushing in. And it’s rather easy considering how little foreplay was involved. But you suppose there didn’t really need to be. Not today. Not after all the teasing and grinding you’ve been put through the past couple of hours.

Still, his size is something to be admired, and you hum rather contently at the delicate sting of such a stretch.

His damaged hand moves up to your clit, rubbing in slow, lazy circles.

You’re enraptured by each sensation. Each wonderful, purposeful sensation. His languid thrusts as he works himself in. His ministrations to your cunt as he plays with you like a toy. The stimulation from the butt plug as it’s brushed with each drive of Harry’s hips.

And him. You could watch him forever. The way his beautiful brows furrow in concentration. The way his sharp jaw clenches tight from the feeling off your body squeezing around him like a vice. The way those hauntingly stunning eyes roll back in his head.

“Bee,” he grunts, dipping down to press his mouth to the side of your neck. “Fucking shit, honey…wish you could see how good you look taking my cock right now.”

Honestly, you wish you could, too.

You reach back and card your fingers through his curls, tugging him closer. “Har…please—”

“I know.” He nips just below your ear. “I know. Gonna have to be quick, okay? ’Cause I gotta take you home.”

Your lashes flutter as you study him. “What? Why?”

He looks up. Finds you in the mirror. Smirks. “D’you really think I’m gonna fuck your ass for the first time in this shitty fucking bathroom at this shitty fucking party?”

Oh.

Your cheeks warm as you mewl your excitement and attempt to wiggle back into him. “Shit, then hurry. Please…please, Daddy.”

You know it’s cruel to break out the moniker so early, but you need him. Need everything he can give you.

And it has the intended result if the way his entire expression darkens is any indication.

His grip becomes tighter. His thrusts get deeper. His motivation grows stronger.

He bottoms out, sheathing himself completely as you gasp and surge forward. It’s everything you’ve been needing. Full to the outmost extent. To feel him everywhere.

He releases your hip to return a hand to your clit while that bandaged hand of his moves to your throat.

His rough fingertips press into the sides of your throat until your eyes grow heavy. Until your muscles have liquified and your body is slumping into his.

And he waits. Waits a second or two more until your pulse begins to slow before loosening his grip and letting you gasp for air.

And now that you can breathe again, it’s easier to focus on the sounds. The sound of his cock burying inside your aching cunt as it echoes around the light blue walls of the small bathroom. The sound of his heavy grunts and virile demands. The sound of your own whines as you whisper his name.

He slows his familiar rhythm. Lets himself drag through you until it nearly hurts. Until you’re left with this need to feel everything harder and faster and just…more.

His name drips from your tongue like rain from a cloud. Over and over until it’s all you can say. All you understand. Just his name. Just him.

He’s so beautiful. So absolutely glorious right now as he nearly takes a bite out of your shoulder, dark hair falling across his forehead from the harsh snapping of his hips.

And his hand. That bloodied hand of his that rammed itself into Eric’s face so many times, you honestly lost count.

He’s worn bandages before. Mostly after a round or two with the punching bag at the gym. And you’ve told him a plethora of times how sexy it is. You’re not even sure why. Perhaps what it represents, a reminder of the fight. Of the pain he’s endured.

Now? Now it’s stained with your ex’s blood. Proof of Harry’s love for you. Proof of what he’d do to keep you safe, make you feel comfortable.

Sure, Harry had allowed Eric to watch him tease you so openly for anybody to see. But the moment Eric’s expression had shifted—from surprised to cocky—Harry was flying out of the chair and throwing him against the wall.

It had taken you fifteen minutes to calm him down and drag him away to the bathroom. And Eric had simply laughed through the pool of blood in his mouth, cupping his broken nose as if he had won the fight. Just because he pushed Harry to his breaking point.

It was barbaric and idiotic and so goddamn stupid.

But you’d never felt so enamored.

And now, he wears this badge of honor proudly as he yanks you even further into his chest. As he uses your body for his own pleasure. As he presses his mouth to your ear and seethes, “My dirty little cumslut. Gonna come for me, aren’t you? Gonna come so I can take you home…and fuck this pretty ass.”

With that, he reaches down to slap his palm against your outer thigh, and the sharp smack of skin against skin bounces between the walls.

You’re so close. So close to getting everything you’ve ever wanted, and you don’t even care that half the house can probably hear you moaning for him. Can probably picture exactly what he’s doing to you as he ruins you from behind.

Which you don’t doubt he wants.

And maybe…you want it, too.

You can taste the beginnings of your orgasm as Harry chases after each whimper that leaves your throat. As he pinches your clit, rolls it between his fingers, presses into it until you see stars.

“Watch me,” he breathes, as if he thinks you could ever do anything else. “You fucking watch me ruin you. Watch the way you come for me. Watch the way you fucking fall apart like my perfect little whore.”

And you do. You watch him. Watch as he smooths his fingers through you. Watch as he spreads you. Watch as he feels you. Watch him touch you with a focused care that only comes from a man who gets more satisfaction from your orgasm than his own.

And it’s quite fun. Quite erotic. To see that tattooed arm flex and roll as he feels you out. As he allows you to see how red and needy your body has become for him. As he slaps his palm against your pussy just to feel you jolt and clench down on him.

And then…the door opens.

It opens, and neither one of you has to look over to know who’s caught you. You can see her reflection in the mirror.

Tina.

You watch as she goes deathly still, face paling as her mouth falls open, an assumed apology already locked and loaded.

But for some reason…she doesn’t leave. At least not immediately as she looks between you and seems to piece a few extra things together.

And Harry doesn’t stop. Because of course he doesn’t stop. You don’t imagine a fucking hurricane ripping through the house could make him stop.

He simply smirks as he leans in to press an open-mouthed kiss to your cheek before groaning lowly and lewdly.

And it’s your name he says as he scratches his nails down the front of your throat. Your name that he practically sings as he whispers, “Bet you fucking love this, hm, Bee? Should I let her watch? Let her watch you come for me?”

And you trip over a broken whimper as Tina quickly backs away, slams the door shut, and calls out a flustered, “Sorry!” through the wall.

Alone again, Harry picks up the pace. The noises being grunted into your ear now much more animalistic the closer he gets to his own release.

You watch as the poor cut down his bottom lip cracks open a bit more with each audacious kiss. Until the entire left side of your face is smeared with little droplets of his blood.

God, you love wearing him like this. More than anything and seeing it in the reflection is what pushes you over.

His bandaged hand on your throat, his tattooed arm spreading your pussy open, and his outrageously thick cock making a home inside your cunt.

The sound you make is a strange mix between a gasp and a scream, but it makes the vein in Harry’s neck twitch as he groans.

Not long after, he’s painting your insides with his come. And it’s warm, and full, and the absolute perfect end to a perfect party.

Because you know…

This is only the beginning.

Next Part:

~ Lead Me*

Previous Part:

~ Find Me*

- Full Teach Me Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

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knightyoomyoui · 9 months

Text

[SMUT] TWICE Sana x Male Reader - "You Can Watch, But Do Not Touch... Unless I Consent You So"

WARNING: contains smut, R+18 content TAGS: honeymoon, rough sex, edging, titfuck, blowjob, doggystyle, full nelson, mirror sex, fluff, smut, newlywed, footjob WORD COUNT: 5200+

The hallway was full of laughter from you and Sana as both made their way into the hotel room you checked into, where you'll be staying for 2 days.

It was necessary so that you and her could get prepared easily for your wedding today, and it concluded smoothly as the priest eventually proclaimed the two of you to be husband and wife.

As newlyweds, you and she left the church instantly to head into your private place where you can rejoice together with your wife, just like usual couples do once they walk out with their wedding rings now attached to their fingers.

Carrying Sana in your arms, her hands were firmly locked around your neck as she looks at your side-profile with excitement equal to her own as you and her made your way inside the room as you opened the door.

You brought down Sana on her feet, engaging you again for another passionate kiss before she lets go and displays a bright smile that you always loved seeing from her.

"We did it, Sana." you said to her, wrapping your arms around her waist. "We fulfilled our promise to each other."

"It was all worth it, YN... and it even feels like I've won anything in my life now that I also got to achieve this one remaining thing I've been dreaming ever since I learned what is love all about... and that is to be married with a man that would treat me with care and looks at me like I am his whole world, and I'm really glad that it has to be you, YN." Sana gracefully said, pressing her palm on your cheeks as she giggled at your funny yet adorable appearance in her silly act.

"I love you, YN. I can't wait to see how the future holds upon us, now that it's up to us together to do whatever we want to have."

"I know, and I love you too, Sana. And we won't stop until the time considers it over."

You planted another quick peck at her lips before you walked your way into the bed and sat side by side with her. Staring at her beautiful dark orbs in the center of her pearly eyes, you had the notion of asking her, which piqued your curiosity.

"So... uhm, what shall we do now?"

"Isn't this the part where the two lovely couples get to full embrace their love now that their hearts are officially bound into one... without no limits?" Sana answered.

Her fingers slid upwards into your neckties and gently tugs it before she removes it on her own. Your smile shudders, encapsulating a hint of tense.

"Sana, a-are we really gonna do it?"

"Hmm... I guess so." She shrugs, tightlipped.

"Are you sure about this?" You asked her with concern. "I mean... are you ready to do this with me?"

Sana grabs your hand and softly looks at it as she caressed your skin with her slender fingers. "Ofcourse, I am. For you, I'm willing to try anything as long as it gives us joy and pleasure for good. How about you, will you join me in this?"

"There's no way I would say no that makes you happy and comfortable with me, Sana." You shook your head.

"Good. Then let's start.

I've been waiting for this moment to come anyway."

For a second kiss, Sana took the initiative to pull your head towards her and move her tongue and lips. Your well-built body beneath your suit caught her hands' attention as they went wild in tandem with her sensuality.

With a mixture of astonishment and amazement that you are actually doing this with Sana, you made the decision to follow her lead and expressed your affection and fanciness to the fullest extent possible. But much to your surprise, just as you were about to touch her waist, she swatted it away. You discover Sana is looking at you with utmost seriousness at that point.

"Uhm... I-I'm sorry. D-Did I made y-"

"No, no. Don't take it that way." Sana calms you already, noticing already that you misintepreted her words. "I just... thought of something interesting to add."

"H-huh? What is it?"

"Do you remember how you've went through before you got to made me admit that you made fall in love for you too?"

"Oh... that? Yeah. You were hard to get. You were not an easy person. It took me a while to make you say it before I get to call you mine."

"Exactly. There, you got it." Sana acknowledged. "I'm not an easy person."

"I think... maybe I should consider trying it also on you whenever we're in our own space."

You were so invested in waiting for her slow words that's coming out of her lustful mouth that you didn't even realized she already pushed you to lay down in the bed.

"S-Sana... what are you doing?"

"Sshhh." She covered your lips with her index finger, her flirty way to signal you to stop talking. "You'll be fine. You'll be fine. I assure you, this will be fun~"

"Stay there, okay?" You just nodded. Sana went for her bag and opened it, taking out 2 handcuffs that made your eyes largened.

"W-where did you get that, babe?"

"Some helpful friends." She winked, wiggling the cuffs in her hand. "I suppose you what I'm going to do with this then."

You gulped. That's it, you had learned that between you two in bed, she prefers to be the one who gets to do what she wants to do. She has the power. The control.

In making out, she has to be the dominant one.

You have seen how intimidating and fierce Sana could be when she gets disappointed or mad, and you don't want to test her in your special day with her.

All you have to do... is follow and succumb.

"Now fix yourself for me, raise your both arms above your head."

You hesitantly complied, unaware of what Sana is planning tonight on you. You wouldn't be lying that despite of the strange and anticipation, you're liking also to witness her seductress side goes fully unleashed only for you to experience.

Because if you said that your wife Sana isn't attractive and seductive, who would you be kidding? You don't want to sound foolish when you say that." Cuffing your wrists on the headboard, she patted it before looking down on you. "I'll be right back, okay? I have something to show you."

She touched your cheek with a smirk before she left you and entered the bathroom, leaving you with your tremendous intriguing and the potential outcomes of how all of this would go with Sana in the next few minutes or hours.

She came back to you after a few minutes of doing some stuff you didn't know. It was not that long, but you can tell that she took time for it.

Because you couldn't comprehend what you were seeing in front of you.

Sana is dressed entirely in black lingerie, with the exception of the white bridal veil on her head, which she chose to keep on to give her appearance a touch more elegance, holiness, and seductive air. "You like?" She posed, tilting her waist while her both hands are placed on each side, combined with her breathtaking back arching almost perfectly to hypnotize you.

It's working, but you couldn't sure if you're accurate because you just can't describe exactly in words what's crossing all into your mind as your lovely wife does this to you, setting you up to not only own each other's hearts... but your bodies also.

"No answer for me? That's harsh. You're leaving me in the air. Maybe we won't start th-"

"N-no don't! I-like... I mean... I love it so much, Sana." You shook your head rapidly. You are astonishing to visualize."

"See? It wasn't that hard." She giggled, teasing you.

"Listen to me, pretty boy. You're gonna be under my orders for tonight, you hear me?"

You nodded with amazement at this side of Sana you've never seen before. Surely, you can thank all the Gods above for blessing you with such a perfect woman to serve and satisfy with all love.

"You're just gonna lay there, and you can only watch me but you can't touch me... unless I consent you so. Got it, baby?"

"Y-Yes Sana."

She slapped your thigh, eliciting a stingy ache in your skin. "I'll allow that... but there's one more thing you have to remember... call me mommy when I instruct you like this."

Not only you have to take a not mentally of that, but also the fact that you have discovered Sana's preferred kink when it comes on having sex. Totally you wouldn't attempt disobey her next time, considering that she's being a 'strict' woman that owns the entirety of you.

"I'm going to repeat myself again, but this will be the last. Are we clear, baby?"

"Y-yes, mommy."

"Very good. Now just lay there, relax... and enjoy the show." The volume of her voice is slowly decreasing towards the end, the more she bends as she crawls atop of you.

You watched her remove your suit, unbuttoning your polo and spreading it with your vest until your muscular chest and torso were exposed for her to be in awe.

She kissed each of your pecs and circled her fingertips on your nipples, sending shockwaves of tickles and arousal through your body.

Her crouching precisely on your now bulging pants isn't helping at all. She looks up at you and smirks devilishly; it seems like she felt your boner as you blushed heavily.

"Aww is my baby liking this already? Being played by her mommy so well?"

"U-uhmmm yes m-mommy."

"Then we're gonna have a lot of fun together. I'll make it entertaining so that my baby would be so much happy."

Sana slid her hands downwards, her touch waves at those six packed abs of yours that gives an impressive feature of your midriff. She licks each of the gaps, the softness and slimey texture of her drooling tongue makes you tickle and aroused more.

"A-ahh...."

Kissing the top of your belly button, her hands landed on the waistband of your pants and your boxers, based from hpw her fingers went deep as it clutched.

"I've been noticing that your friend down here is suffering too much, let mommy help you out~"

She tugged it downwards, leaving it half removed as she left it just on top of your knees

She viewed at your now exposed cock on its hard state, pointing towards at her before it twitched when you saw her lick her lips. "Do you know how many times mommy would imagine how big can you be?"

"Ahh shit..."

"Sometimes, I could notice the outline of it whenever we sat beside each other. I would then try my best to pretend I accidentally bump your crotch so that I get a feeling of it... and God, I almost felt dizzy thinking about the size of it wrecking my pussy."

She finally removed both your pants and boxers in your legs, making you fully naked compared to her.

"F-fuck, mommy y-your words..."

"It's all true, baby. Can you believe it? Mommy tried her best to be patient for you, so can you do it for me today too?"

"Yes mommy."

"Alright. Mommy's not gonna hold back anymore, okay? I've waited for so long."

She caressed your thighs and gently extended it for her to occupy more space to feast on the enormous meat served in front of her.

Her hands climbs up until you felt your testicles gets hanged and squeezed tenderly using both of her hand within the gaps of her thumb and index finger.

You blew more air, chest panting faster , fists clenching on the cuffs as you try to compose yourself. "Your balls looks so full. Can't wait for me to drain you until every last drop, baby."

Her right hand ascended, now grasping the base of your cock. She formed a fist around it as she gently began to stroke you dangerously slow.

"O-oh... oh my god."

"Stay still for me, baby. I need you not to let me down on this."

"I'll try my best f-for... mommy."

"It's so fucking big and thick~" Sana said as she bit her lips while staring at your cock being pumped. "I've finally got a hold of it... now it's time to find out how it tastes."

She directed your shaft to her opening mouth before she suckled your mushroom head and slowly slid down into your length, introducing you to a newfound pleasure that will leave you speechless at all.

"U-ughhh s-shittt..... grrrghh...." You moaned as you feel Sana's blowjob to slowly sped up as the pace of her head bobbing up and down increasing.

All of your toes and fingers are now curled, trying with might that you can still hold on much longer.

You accidentally flinched upwards as you felt Sana's tongue twirling around your tip, giving her a quick deepthroat. She looked up at you, shocked at what you did.

"I-I'm sorry..."

She didn't respond. She just stared at you, but to your surprise, you could feel her sucking go deeper as your head was now bumping the walls of her throat, accepting the challenge she thought you put up for her.

Your moans and groans even became louder. The familiar feeling of your abdomen tightening has made you alert; you squirmed a bit so you can fix yourself again while Sana continues to blow you.

"O-oh no... p-please, mommy I'm cumming."

Right in time, she felt your cock twitch in her mouth. She let it slip in her puckered lips, leaving your length all messed with saliva and pre-cum.

"No. You won't cum unless mommy told you so. Understood?"

You nodded, sighing a bit of relief that she stopped sucking you so that your end could be prevented.

Only for it to vanish instantly when you saw what she's doing after.

She removed her black laced bra, revealing her tasty looking breasts as it jiggled from the release. Suddenly, your thirst and craving has intensified.

She positioned back in your crotch, and you watch her present to you what she has in mind next.

Awakening back your cock into its full hardness, she gave it an introductory stroke before placing it on the valley of her supple mounds.

"We're just getting started, baby."

A sly smirk formed in her lips as she starts to lift and then drop her breasts as it suffocates your cock with its embrace. Sana is now giving you a wonderful titjob, her soft pillows is automatically sending you straight into euphoria.

"How does it feel?"

"It feels so freaking incredible, goodness gracious."

"Do you like how my tits graze all over your huge cock, baby?

"Fuck yes, mommy. It feels so comfortable, so good, oh God!"

"Would you love me to put these in your face and help you taste them?"

"Yes, I would really love it, please do it mommy."

"Then be patient and be a good boy for me if you want a reward."

You only nodded. Sana continues to glide her succulent breasts in your reddened aching cock, now being edged for 10 minutes.

More saliva and pre-cum scattered around her skin before she felt the familiar twitch again, leaving your cock on absent again. You whined as your cum almost escaped just when Sana lets go of your cock.

"M-mommy are we not done y-yet?"

"We're almost close, baby. Hang on for me, would you?"

"O-okay..."

She grabbed another chair from the dining area and placed it near the foot of the bed. Stacking your thighs with her legs all covered with black long stockings, she crossed it and posed sexily again on you.

"What about my legs, baby? Do you love my new stockings that I bought exclusively only for you?"

"They're simply look fitting in your legs, mommy."

"Good. And my feet?" She asked you as she rubbed your thighs with it.

"It feels relaxing. It's like I'm having a massage."

"Then you're gonna love this one. I'm going to try one more on you baby. Is that alright?"

"Just do me. I want my mommy to be happy."

She was touched at your thoughtful words. Her feet met at your cock, putting it in between before she pushed it to lay on your stomach and she ran the sole of her feet through the underside of your cock.

"Agh... f-fuck...." You muttered from Sana's excellent footjob.

Your wrists are now hurting a little bit for wiggling with desperation to escape as Sana continues to perform these pleasuring experiments on your throbbing poor cock.

The mushroom head of your penis has gotten slightly purple now from the several times it tried to contain your cum for releasing.

She picked up your cock and stroked it with both of her feet this time. The texture of the fabric of her stockings adds more satisfying sensation to her tantalizing actions.

The stockings got a puddle of wetness filled with a mix of saliva and pre-cum but Sana doesn't care. She puts down again your cock on your abdomen and massaged the underside with her left side while the other began playing on your now disturbed heavy balls.

You couldn't help it. You finally bended your knees from compressing it too much on the mattress to lessen the tightness that you feel. "O-oh my God... m-mommy I think I can't take much longer..." you whined.

"Does my baby want to cum so bad?"

"Please, let me mommy."

"Since you've been good and obedient...

Go on. Cum for me."

She took her legs off the bed and faced your cock again as she hurriedly sucked it. You joined her intensity and buckled your hips back and forth as you were fucking Sana's mouth ruthlessly, a bit of a payback for the torture she's been subjecting you to.

Abruptly, your vision turns to white, as does the entire mouth of Sana, as it was flooded by thick waves of your warm and salty cum, filling her up before she let go of your cock and swallowed your load.

"Mmmhhh... yummy, she said as she sipped on her cum-stained fingers and the slit of your cock to clean and ensure no drop would go to waste. "Good boy, so much cum dripping down on mommy's tummy."

You panted heavily as you were exhausted at the length of time you fought your urges. Sana reaches for the key but before that, she teased you once more again as she did a sultry short dance beside you while removing her black panties and wedding veil, her puffy pink pussy all visible to you.

The now naked Sana grabbed on your wrists. "Are you fine, baby? Was I too much?"

"N-not at all. It's my first time so it's all weird to me, but I'm not lying when I say that was one of the best things I've ever had."

"Great. And now for your reward..." She inserted the key on the hole and switched it. "You are now done watching me, I'll leave everything the rest up to you.

You can touch me now, baby."

As she unlocked the cuff on your other wrist, you quickly hooked your arm around her waist and pushed her towards you. Her breasts connected immediately in your face as you smothered them all over their softness before you started to devour her succulent caramel nipples and areolas while helping her sit down in your lap by elevating her legs on each side.

She grinds on your softening cock while you gnawed on her tits as she mashes her cleavage on your face. "Oohhh hehe aggressive aren't w-ooh mmh~" She moaned as she felt your strong hands kneading both of her soft asscheeks.

"Fuck, you've been testing me for quite long, mommy. You made me to be like this, and I'm not gonna be sorry for it."

"Then show me. Be harsh on your slutty mommy. Fuck her hard for edging her baby's cock and not letting him cum easily."

You might've released the most animalistic grunt ever as you lifted her body and stood your cock to point it through her pussy before you pushed her down, and you didn't go easy on her like she's been begging you to do so; you just quickly fucked her on a rampage.

She went crazy bouncing on your lap, screaming and moaning in shudder as her voice vibrated, echoing with the sounds of loud claps of her ass contacting your crotch.

You kissed her furiously, pushing her head at you by gripping her neck. Her breasts squished on your chest as you locked her figure with your other arm. Now that we are lying down together, the direction of your hammering in her abused pussy has gone upwards.

"FUCKKK ME!!! OH GOD DON'T STOP, DON'T YOU DARE STOP BABY, I'M GONNA CUM ON YOUR MONSTROUS COCK UGH!!!"

"SO AS I. TAKE IT ALL, MY SLUTTY MOMMY!!!"

You went for a strong three strokes before you buried your cock deep into her womb, splashing it with your second streak of baby batter.

Both of you exhaled together to rest for a little before you kissed again, and Sana pushed you away so that she could take most of the entire bedspace.

You realized that she did it so that she could position herself on all fours; she arched her heavenly back to purse her ass further to showcase it to her.

"Take me from behind next, baby~" Sana said. "Do you like my ass wanting for you?"

"Ofcourse I am. Look at how perfect it is." You slapped each of it as she giggled and purred. "Harder. Spank me harder!" You repeated, giving each juicy peaches a balance rough treatment.

"Do all you want, it's yours to devour baby. Mommy needs to be used." She wiggled her ass for you, her cheeks hypnotizingly rippled as you kneaded it before you buried your face on it giving a long lick on her pussy and her asshole.

As you gave it a lube atleast, you pressed the tip of your cock to her glory hole. "Are you ready, mommy?"

"Y-yes, just allow me to adjust okay? Nice and slow."

"As you wish."

You slowly thrust, eliciting a moan and a sigh from her. She stayed still for a while as you gritted your teeth at how extremely tight your wife is. You can go ahead now, baby."

You fucked her with ease, adding a delightful sensation for yourselves. Sana can feel how stuffed her rear was, thanks to your enormously thick meat that's been making her very amused and satisfied for more than an hour now.

Her body moves back and forth; her breasts are madly bouncing from beneath, and you can see a glimpse of them, effectively encouraging you to touch them.

So you did. You bent your body on top of hers as you grabbed her perfecbig big tits and joined them in their swaying movement while giving them a few squeezes.

You kissed her back and neck. Sana flinched, causing her to lose balance on her arms as she crashed safetly on the bed, her breasts are now compressed to the mattress.

Removing yourself on top of her, you altered your position to continue fucking her in the ass with a comfortable fashion. Sana's eyes enlargened, she didn't hold back any batch of loud screams and whimpers and you went fast on fucking her this time in a scissor angle.

Her one leg raised to the air, her side figure laying down, you kneeling and pounding her ass further with the remaining energy you got.

"FUCK! IT'S SO DEEP, IT'S POKING MY WOMB BABY! KEEP DOING IT, I'M ALMOST AT MY END!!!"

You couldn't wait much longer, you went all in as you penetrated her until both of you cum simultaneously, exclaiming a huge moan and grunts especially Sana who is both releasing and getting filled up at the same time with your thick cum.

"Let's go for one more, then... we can rest."

Sana offered her hand to you, and you voluntarily took it, escorting her to get up from the bed. She walked to the front of the body mirror, where she could admiringly see both of your naked bodies standing against each other, looking like a matching pair.

She went flushed at your touch when you rubbed her torso before you went for her breasts, groping them with care and juggled them on your palm.

It turned into another shivering huff and moan when she kissed you, twirling her head upwards to meet your face.

While on a heated session with her, you started to rub your crotch on her ass to tease her. Sana can feel how it's beginning to wake up and become huge again from the crack in her rear.

She raised her arms, initiating you for the last position she has in idea. "Lock me up and fuck me."

No other questions for clarifications or concerns needed, that's all you need to have for you to follow her clear instruction as you simply inserted back your cock on her squelching pussy still creamy from the mixture of your cum altogether.

Sana watches lustfully on the mirror the perverted act that you two are committing. Her handsome husband unforgivingly ramming his hardened wood on his gorgeous wife's tight and warm pussy.

She can obviously see how you give you entire effort to fuck her mindless and achieve the pleasure she's wanting to feel, and she wants to tell you exactly if you might not know yet how grateful and glad she was for you.

"Y-you're doing so great, babe. Let's c-cut the act now here. I just want to let you know that I-I love you and thank you for this. Really, I'm so happy that it's got to be you who I can share these kind of moments with."

You smiled as Sana patted you in the cheek after giving you that appreciative words despite of the stutters from the impact of your pounding.

"I love you too, Sana. I'm just as pleased as you are." You kissed her on the cheek before you quickened your pace, as your impending release has made it presence for you to felt.

Sana knew what it means so she gripped on the back of your head as her body being lifted up and down from the ground. With few more strokes to go, you exploded another and final load of cum inside her pussy.

"As much as I would love for us to continue, I know it's enough for now and we're both tired." Sana patted your head and kissed you in the lips. "We can do more of these next time, but for now... let's have some rest. You did a good job for tonight, baby."

"Thanks, mommy Sana." You chuckled. "That's a hell of a performance you had there for me by the way, you can't blame me why I started to get turned on."

Sana laughed and slapped your arm. "If you loved it so much then you'll going to have it anytime you want whenever it's just the two of us."

"You're simply the best." You nodded and kissed her again before both of you took a shower together and changed into a comfortable sleeping garments as the newlyweds laid on the bed, embracing each other onto slumber.

Few hours later, you suddenly woke up earlier than what you expected, but you wouldn't dare to complain more as you can see the city of Seoul about to welcome the early morning of a brand new day.

You stood in the balcony with your glass of water and stared at the peaceful view as you regained your senses.

Sana who just woke up also after finding that you were no longer on her side in the bed, approaches you and cuddled you from behind.

"Good morning, babe."

"Good morning, my wife." You kissed her crown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No, just woke up early. Still feeling a little tired though."

Sana chuckled and pouted embarrassingly. "Sorry, I guess?" "Cmon, we both had fun so its fine." You hilariously took her response.

You moved her on your side and faced her lovingly. Placing your hand with Sana's, your wedding ring were in contact as you entangled your finger to hers.

"This is just all surreal for me. Being in here, knowing that I almost done most of what I've been dreaming and wishing for my life when I was younger back then. Finish my studies, be a professional engineer, my family now living in a better house, have my ideal girl as my girlfriend to marry her someday... and destiny brought you upon to me, Sana.

I'm so blessed to have you, really. You've been an incredible and perfect girlfriend for me. You stayed even in our highs and lows, hardships and mellow, some of it almost tried to spread us apart and let go, but you never gave up as much as I did. And now that you're standing here as my beloved wife after us getting married yesterday, that sums up everything I need to know and believe that you love me no matter what happens. And I'm telling you that I will never stop loving you back and now all we can do is to hope we can build a wonderful family soon and I'll be the happiest father alive with you, Sana, as the wife of our kids. I love you more than anyone."

Your lips twitched, eyes blinked rapidly as its watery from the tears gathered up by your emotions. Sana hugged you instantly to calm you down, not minding herself who's also getting teary because of your heartfelt message.

"I want us to stay like this forever, and we accomplished that, right? I couldn't just let myself to break up with you thatt's why I want to settle those problems that we had. I don't want that to ruin our plans in the future, and look what led us today. I love you too, YN. Our faith and support for each other should always be there to keep this relationship to be strong and steady. And as your wife, I promise you that I'll continue to help you as I improve myself. It can be useful, well... from what we did last night; yeah hopefully... we can have our own child or more to raise." Sana replied, caressing your back as you cried in her shoulder. She also started to sniff her tears away, getting affected by your honest and sincere sentiment. "D-do you think I can be a perfect mother?" "I always believed in you, Sana. Ofcourse, yes you will be." You stroked her silky hair, smelling the enchanting scent of her shampoo. Sana blushed and shyly smiled, glad that you think of her positive as usual.

"Sorry if I'm being like this, I even made you cry." You chuckled. "I'm just lucky to have you, Sana."

"What are you saying? Don't apologize for saying something wholeheartedly. We've been through a lot anyway. It may be done, but I know it was exhausting, so it's best to just let it all out. I'm here for you, YN. I'll take it all away and be the one who catches all your tears."

Sana cradled your head as she hummed pleasantly to proceed on comforting you. Closing your eyes, you indulged her caring behavior.

Glancing at the golden daylight approaching, the sunrise emerges between the two lovers embracing their shared genuine and unbreakable fondness together.

#twicesana #minatozakisana #sana smut #twice sana smut #twicesanaxmalereader #twicesanaxmreader #twicexmalereader #twice smut #twice smut au #twice au #twice oneshot #kpop oneshot #kpop au #kpop fanfic #twice fanfic #kpop smut

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ineffable-suffering · 6 months

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Re: "You go too fast for me, Crowley", because I think I finally figured out the real meaning behind that line

Naturally, this line of all lines, the most line of them all, is constantly circling around my rotten brain like a moth around a flame.

In addition, though, there's always been another Good Omen's line/exchange that has kept bothering me again lately. And literally until just about five minutes ago, I had never thought of relating them back to each other.

Now, five minutes later, I have and I think I just ... figured it out.

In case you were wondering: The second line that wouldn't leave my head is what Aziraphale says to Crowley during their clandestine meeting at St. James' Park in 1862 when Crowley asks him for Holy Water:

A: "I'm not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley!"

And here's what bugs me about this: Why did Aziraphale, without a breath of hesitation, immediately assume Crowley wanted the Holy Water to commit suicide if things ever went wrong?

That's ... such a dark assumption to make. Especially because that is absolutely not what Crowley wanted it for, as he literally says himself:

C: "That's not what I want it for, just insurance."

And what does Aziraphale reply?

A: "I'm not an idiot, Crowley!"

Because he firmly, firmly believes that Crowley is asking him to bring him the Holy Water as a foolproof method of taking his own life in case Heaven and Hell ever find out about them.

To this day, that conversation gives me chills whenever I think about it. We so rarely get see what genuine emotions and thoughts for and about Crowley Aziraphale keeps neatly tucked away behind that tightly buttoned waistcoat of his. This moment in 1862 is one of the very rare ones where his façade slips a little – and the peak we get isn't a fun one. It's a very dark, scared and vulnerable one.

What am I on about and how does this all relate to the infamous "You go too fast for me, Crowley"-line? Let's look at it under the cut.

(Word count: 2560 | Reading time: ~10 min. | TW: mentions of suicide)

Like I mentioned up above, it always struck me to my core that Aziraphale very clearly immediately assumes Crowley wants the Holy Water for possible suicide. Not only is that a very dark and upsetting thought, it also poses the question: Why? Why is that the first place Aziraphale's mind goes to?

Crowley says at the very beginning of their conversation:

C: "We have a lot in common, you and me."

He's definitely referring to their (very mutual) relationship Arrangement and the fact that they both find themselves kept apart and watched by their respective head offices, not allowing them to ever misstep and give themselves away.

After bickering around a little like they do, Crowley asks his favour – and he makes it very clear in a quiet and serious voice that:

C: "This is something else. [...] For if it all goes wrong."

He's not just talking about Heaven or Hell finding out about some silly frivolous miracles, no. He's talking about them finding out about their Arrangement, their relationship. The worst of all worst case scenarios.

So bad, in fact, that he doesn't even ask his favour out loud but instead decided to write it down.

Aziraphale's reaction is ... severe.

We immediately see his face drop as, he too, realizes that this is all of a sudden a very serious conversation indeed. And he immediately and vigorously denies Crowley's request because he thinks it to be one for a suicide pill.

To understand how he could arrive at that lightning-quick (and also wrong) conclusion, we have to try and understand how Aziraphale sees Crowley and the threat that the angel himself as well as their relationship poses to Crowley.

Crowley can, at times, be a very self-deprecating and cynical character. He's without a doubt carrying a lot of trauma and unspoken fears and emotions with him at all times. Aziraphale at this point in their relationship probably has a good notion of what those are – but he doesn't know the whole depth of it because they've never been able to speak freely enough and Crowley has seemingly decided to keep many-a things to himself, still. They both tread the waters of plausible deniability very well.

So, to jump to the conclusion of Crowley entertaining suicidal thoughts in the face of unavoidable danger is ... quite a violent jump. And remember: "[...] underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times then it was utter surety that the universe would look after him."

So, what is it that Aziraphale does know that would drive him to such a drastic conclusion when, in reality, secret optimist Crowley only ever wanted the Holy Water to protect himself against Hell to come out safe on the other end of things?

2500 BC, Land of Uz: A: "That [going along with Heaven/Hell as far as you can] sounds, um ..." C: "Lonely? Yeah." A: "But you said it wasn‘t." C: "I‘m a demon. I lied."

After Crowley helps Aziraphale out in Edinburgh in 1827, Crowley is immediately sucked back down to Hell We don't know what exactly happened after that or just how long Crowley was gone. We also don't know if Crowley ever told Aziraphale what happened, once he returned. What we and Aziraphale do know, is that Crowley ends up asking him for Holy Water, out of the blue, only a couple of decades later.

1601, The Globe: A: "But if Hell finds out [about the Arrangement], they won't just be angry. They'll destroy you." (additionally, later in time, C: "My lot does not send rude notes.")

Ergo: It's very clear that Aziraphale seems to have put two and two together with his own angel math by what he has a) witnessed himself and b) what Crowley has said himself which equals: In going against Hell, Crowley has felt incredibly lonely before he had Aziraphale by his side and if Heaven and Hell were to ever find out about them, Hell's punishment would be a whole lot worse than Heaven's.

He thinks Hell would destroy Crowley.

So when Crowley, who so rarely says how he really feels and one of the few times he did, told Aziraphale he was lonely, says he wants the Holy Water, the immediate conclusion Aziraphale comes to is: He wants it as an emergency exit. In case things go pear-shaped. He wants it to escape whatever dreadful punishment Hell would have in stock for such a lonely traitor. He wants it as a suicide pill.

For Aziraphale to not even entertain the thought or believe that Crowley does indeed only want the Holy Water as a means of self-defense is, again, absolutely heartbreaking. Because it tells us a thing or two just how scared and desperate Aziraphale thinks Crowley to be. Something along the lines of: "If I myself am already so immensely terrified of Hell's punishment for Crowley, how terrified must Crowley be."

I think a whole lot of this is also very, very strong projection and shows us how Aziraphale himself feels about all of it. How scared he is for himself and Crowley. Of what would be done to them.

A: „Out of the question! Do you know what trouble I'd be in if they knew I‘d been ... fraternizing?“

He knows they would both suffer immense consequences and that Crowley‘s still would be worse. If anything, in a dark and twisted way, it shows that Aziraphale himself has definitely entertained the idea of suicide as a concept, at least. Maybe not for himself or Crowley, yet, but remember, he‘s awfully fond of Shakespeare‘s Hamlet.

A: „To be or not to be? Buck up, Hamlet!“

Yeah, buck up indeed. (By the way, there's a great meta by @greenthena on why Aziraphale likes Hamlet so much that kind of plays into my point a little. You can read it here).

And again, who knows what Aziraphale might have actually witnessed of Hell's cruel ways already in the past (Edinburgh of 1827, or at other times) that made him arrive at the conclusion that, ultimately, suicide would be the less painful choice for Crowley when faced with Hell's consequence for their relationship.

I told you this was gonna take a bit of a darker turn. So, here we are. At the turn. It doesn't get much lighter from here on out, I'm afraid.

Because all of this gives "You go too fast for me, Crowley" a whole new devastating meaning.

Personally, I always found it a teensy bit difficult to relate that line back to Aziraphale implying that Crowley was trying to push their relationship a little too fast for him.

Deducing that as the meaning of "You goo to fast for me" after we were shown in the montage of S1E3 that Aziraphale, from circa 1941 on, was undoubtedly fully aware of just how madly in love he was with Crowley, has always felt odd to me. And it continued to feel even odder after we got the whole story of 1941 in S2.

Because if that minisode showed us anything, it's that if you let Aziraphale take over the metaphorical wheel for about five minutes, "too fast" doesn't even match the astronomical speed with which he crashes head first into 15th base. Forget the hand holding and kissing, let's go straight to you shooting me on the first date I planned for us!

And they say romance is dead.

Now look, of course, Aziraphale is still keeping most of his romantic feelings and longing bottled up out of fear that Heaven and Hell could find out about them and have Crowley destroyed. We've established that this very big fear of his is the driving factor behind him never trying to overstep that invisible line.

But still, those feelings? They're there. Oh, Hell, they are t-h-e-r-e.

Our angel is a master of self-delusion but not even he is holy enough to deny the fact that, if he could, he'd want nothing more than to lock that demon down and elope together into their happily-ever-after.

So, when Aziraphale finally budges and hands over the Holy Water to Crowley in 1967, I've always had a hard time believing that that line coming from Mr. "I guess there's something to be said for shades of grey" himself actually meant: "I'm not ready yet, you want to go faster than I do."

Because really, apart from trying to convince Aziraphale of the Arrangement and rescuing him from every silly, coincidental predicament the angel has gotten himself into over the millennia, what exactly is it that Crowley did here to "go too fast"? Hell, he's been at it at the pace of a snail ever since, very well knowing that Aziraphale would take a lot of gentle nudging and lunch temptations invitations to agree with the Arrangement.

All Crowley does in that moment in the car is offer Aziraphale a lift, anywhere he wants to go. And yes, that is code their little dance, that is how he shows his love for Aziraphale. But Aziraphale has never before deemed that an issue or seen it as a too-fast progression of their relationship. He even suggests another date himself two seconds later, saying:

A: "Perhaps we could go for a picknick one day. Dine at the Ritz."

So, what, one sentence later he suddenly wants to hit the breaks again? After he literally looked like this the last time Crowley drove (literally way too fast) through burning London?

Nah, I'm not buying it.

Instead, here's what I think Aziraphale really means with this line that changed us all (and I'm sorry, but I'm about to one-up the sadness of the 1862 meeting):

I think Aziraphale is referring to what he thinks is the reason Crowley wants the Holy Water for.

Suicide.

And boy-fucking-howdy, does that change the game.

Because if we assume that Aziraphale, all throughout the one-century-long Holy Water standoff, thought Crowley wanted it as a quick, ahem, Escape From Everything, what I think Aziraphale really means with "You go too fast for me" is this:

To him, Crowley is asking the most cruel deed of him to bring him the one thing that could take Crowley away from Aziraphale for good. For ever. In case things go pear shaped. In case Hell finds out about them and comes after Crowley.

To Aziraphale, Crowley is asking him to load the bullet into his gun for the time it won't be a trick. So he can escape before Hell gets to him.

More devestatingly, I think Aziraphale even understands where that notion comes from. Aziraphale knows how dangerous their relationship is. And Hell does not send rude notes. So, I think after pondering on it for a good millennia, part of him has come to understand why Crowley would want an emergency exit.

Which is absolutely fucking heartbreaking.

Especially because that's not even what Crowley was thinking when he made his request. He truly only wanted it as a defense. But Aziraphale doesn't believe or fully realize that. Aziraphale believes the Holy Water is a suicide pill and to some extent even understands why Crowley might want that.

And yet, despite (wrongly, but well) understanding Crowley's intentions, Aziraphale is still deeply upset and terrified at the thought of Crowley taking his own life should they ever get caught. Which explains his extreme reaction all the way back at their clandestine meeting at St. James' Park.

Aziraphale assuming Crowley's way out of the most pear-shaped situation of them all would be suicide also means that Aziraphale would be the one who'd be ... well, left behind.

He recognises that choosing death over possible eternal punishment is maybe somewhat of an understandable choice. And yet, it's a choice that, to him, Crowley has made without him. Seemingly way before their first talk about it.

Aziraphale thinks Crowley seems to have made up his mind about his escape plan without him in it.

He thinks that if they were caught, Crowley would want some Holy Water around to quickly chug before he would be at Hell's mercy and that would be it.

Crowley would, for the first time ever, really leave. Not just for Alpha Centauri. But actually leave. Escape and run away to a point of no return. For good. Without Aziraphale. To a place where Aziraphale couldn't follow him, no matter how fast he tried to run himself.

It goes a little something like:

"If they found out about us, you would choose to go where I couldn't follow. And you're asking me to pave the road for you to walk there. Without me ever being able to get a say in walking alongside you. You want to go to places where I could never join you. You'd run away without me and I understand why but you didn't even give me a chance to catch up. You go too fast for me, Crowley."

F*ck, man. I think I need to lie down.

Y'know what else that gives new meaning to?

Alright, that's it, I'm out. Enough sad meta-ing for the day. See you all around once I've stopped slipping further into the void, folks. :')

#good omens #good omens meta #my own meta #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens s2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #you goo too fast for me crowley #aziraphale is master of projection #i made myself sad with this #The Arrangement #holy water #im gonna go read fluff now bye

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corrodedcoffins-blog · 4 months

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Lake House Days

jack hughes x teen mom!reader

note: i love writing little kid dialogue

word count: 1.3k

Bringing the twins anywhere was hard, but having to fly and a long drive to the lake house, was a big trip for the kids. And a very long day for Y/n. All that along with meeting new people, well she knew Jack’s parents, and his brothers, and she met Trevor once. But this would be the first time Jack’s family (minus Luke) and friends were meeting her kids. What if they didn’t like their son dating someone with kids, of course they did know, but knowing and seeing were different things.

“Love, you okay?” Jack’s soothing voice broke Y/n out of her anxious thoughts, just like he always does.

“Yeah, just a little nervous.” “About what?” The man gives his girlfriend's thigh a gentle and reassuring squeeze, from where said hand had been resting since they got in the car. Y/n checked over her shoulder, seeing the twins sleeping soundly, Abby’s head leaning on her brother’s shoulder, smiling Y/n turned her attention back to her boyfriend.

“Just of everyone meeting the twins… Your parents and Quinn meeting the twins.” The woman admits, her voice low, more aware of her sleeping children now.

“They are going to love them, they love kids and my family loved you when you met for the first time.” Jack assured her, making a quick glance taking in her reaction before returning his eyes to the road and continuing, “Abby and Eli charm anyone they meet, without them charming me, I would have never talked to you.” “Shut up.” The woman says, smiling.

“Well I hope you got the last of your nerves out because we’re here.” Jack says, pulling into the long driveway of the beautiful and large lake house. Putting the car in park among the impressive number of cars already here, and turning to face the younger girl.

“Ready?” “As I’ll ever be.”

As Y/n slowly tried to wake up the twins, Jack unpacked the car, in the end neither child was ready to wake just yet, leading to Y/n carrying Abby and Jack carrying Eli. The door opened before Jack could open it himself, the image of Quinn in their sights.

“Hey- oh hi.” the man says more quietly after realising the sleepiness in both the twins' faces.”Hey Quinny.” Jack greets his brother, doing the usual bro hug guys to, as well as he could with Eli in his arms. “We’re gonna put these two in their room, then we’ll come down and see everyone.”

Jack and Y/n walk down the stairs after Y/n finally got Eli settled. “Hi Y/n!” Ellen says seeing the couple coming down and bringing Y/n into a tight hug, “Hi Ellen!” “Where are Eli and Abby?” truthfully Y/n never thought Ellen or any of Jack’s family would care to know her children, and it was never anything they had done, in actuality they have done everything to disprove that notion. But with years of dating as a single mother it was more common than not that any partner's family wouldn’t want anything to do with her babies. “They're both napping, they've had a long day already.” “Oh of course! Believe me I know.”

Spending the past hour without the twins and just getting to know Jack’s family and friends better first, had done a lot to ease her anxiety that this time would in fact be different. Y/n and Ellen talked all about how fast your kids grow, Y/n didn’t really have mom friends so it was refreshing to talk about her kids with someone that could relate. This along with Ellen telling many child Jack stories, much to the man’s dismay.

“Mommy?” A quiet, sleepy voice mumbled rubbing his eye with one hand and his sister’s in the other, the young girl’s own other hand holding her most prized possession, her blanky.

“Hi huns! You’re up?” Her rhetorical question causes the girl to nod her head, while jumping into her mom’s lap. Eli walked over to lean his arms on her arm rest, and his head on her chest. “Ready to meet everyone?” The twins’ mother whispered, while most people surrounding the fire were watching. Both 5 year olds nodding their heads, Y/n continues, “This is Ellen and Jim, they’re Jack’s parents.” The woman says, directing their attention to her right where Ellen and Jim sat. Both children mumble a quiet ‘Hi’ back. “And that’s Quinn, Jack’s other brother.” The same routine continued on, the two successfully convinced all that they were shy. Until Eli walked up to Trevor and sat on his lap, mischief must detect mischief, but Abby stuck to sitting with her mom. Scoping out who here will be her best friend.

“Hun, I need to put sunscreen on you.” Y/n said, trying to reason with her son. She already got Abby ready, Abby was only difficult getting ready if she had a reason to be, Eli however was difficult just because it was fun.

“No!” “Baby, if you don’t put this on you’re gonna get burnt just like Lia did last summer remember? She could barely move, do you want that to happen to you.” “No..” The boy mumbled, accepting defeat and lifting his arm for his mom. “Thank you.”

“Jacka, what we doing today?” Abby was going through a phase of adding ‘a’ to random words in her sentences leading to her giving Jack the new nickname. While the young girl was letting Jack put on her shoes, the man answered her question excitedly and lifting the girl off the bed and onto the floor, “Going on the lake today!” “On boat?” “Yes ‘on boat’.” “Momma we going on boat” She repeated for her mom, even though the woman was a foot away from her and already heard it. “Maybe, hunny. Not for sure. Okay! You’re both ready, how ‘bout you guys go downstairs and help Ellen with snacks?” “Okayyy!” “Okay-a!” Both children yell, running out of the room.

Once they were excited, Jack pushed the bedroom door closed and walked over to his girlfriend. In the time that they’ve been dating, when the twins are around you take any time alone together you can get. Leaning down only slightly Jack gently presses his lips to Y/n’s, her immediately kissing him back. Her hands went around his neck, his own resting on her lower back just above her ass.

Breaking apart Y/n whispers against his mouth, “Okay, ready?” “Yep” he says, stealing a quick peck before exiting the room himself.

“I spy… Something invisible.” Eli announces, turning from looking all around him to looking at Trevor and Cole. “What’s invisible?” the taller boy asked, he’d been taking the game pretty seriously and Eli just threw a curveball at him. “Dude, I don’t know!” Before the two could embarrass themselves, Eli stepped in, “The air!!!” “Oh! Duh!” “Good one, man!”

This was too complex for Eli’s brain but he often latched onto male figures in his life; of course he had Lia’s dad but he didn’t see him often, so not having one for himself, he loved Jack and his friends, they gave him what he didn't have.

Y/n was watching the three play eye spy from her spot on Jack’s lap. And checking over at Ellen and Abby playing ‘Go Fisha’ as Abby calls it. After a moment of Jack not having her full attention, he brings his right hand from the woman’s lower back to rub her upper thigh, grabbing her attention once again.

“You okay?” “Yeah.” Y/n says, a smile from ear to ear spreading across her face. She is so happy. Having Jack, and people besides herself and the people she considers family (Lia and her parents) caring about the twins I was something she wasn’t sure she would ever feel. Last night even, Y/n put the kids to bed and Eli asked her if Jack was going to be their dad, it almost made her cry on the spot. But what did make her cry happy tears was that her answer, not that she spoke it to Eli, was closer to a ‘yes’ than a ‘no’.

“Yeah, I’m really happy.”

~taglist~

@yabbadabbawhosposts @mallory78 @fulla02 @mostellasm

#jack hughes x teen mom!reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x fem reader #jack hughes x fem!reader #jack hughes x girlfriend!reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #hughes brothers #luke hughes #quinn hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #alex turcotte

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futurecorps3 · 1 year

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Hello my love! I have heard your call for Kaz requests and I have an idea rattling around in my head!

Could you maybe do a Kaz x fem!Reader where they're in their early 20s and have been together for years and overcome Kaz's touch aversion (bc our poor boy deserves some healing 😭)? But that's not the idea, the idea is that the reader hasn't been sleeping for a few nights and ends up getting hurt because of it? Could be from fainting and hitting her head, slow reflexes on a job, etc. I trust your brilliant mind!

I can't wait to watch you grow as a writer!!!! ❤️

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐧𝐮𝐦

Masterlist<3

Summary: The lack of sleep Kaz has been warning his girl about finally has consequences. Pairing: Kaz Brekker x fem!reader Warnings: Mentions of overwoking, lack of sleep, blood, a very angsty moody angry sad Kazzle, mentions of blood and lost of conscience. The usual crow violence! Lmk if I missed any. Word Count: 3.5K whoops Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I love the prompt, however and am very excited to work on this. Hope u like it nonnie and that last thing means the absolute world! <3

˚ · • . ° .

Now he knew he was in no position to demand her to rest. Kaz Brekker was known in his close circle for two things; killing whoever disrespected his love and always scheming. The electricity his brain consumed when plotting the next heist didn't even allow him to sleep when being tucked in with Y/N laying over his chest. But she never had the same issue before!

That's how it worked. She got mad because he wasn't sleeping and would reproach his ears off until he folded and left his papers to join her in bed. So, it was safe to say Kaz was startled when he noticed the absence of steps approaching his office. The clock read the time to be a quarter past midnight. He learned by endlessly scolding from you the hard way it was no use staying up late for a job when he had pretty much everything prepared, so he dropped everything and left to his room.

"Darling, are you-" his question was answered as he opened the door and saw her drawing on the little desk he got for her. "Hmm, hi love. It's quite early. What are you doing here?" Kaz wanted to laugh at that. Had she really lost notion of time that badly? "It's past midnight now, Y/N. What are you working on?" His shirt was discarded in some chair, along with his coat.

He was now in his dress pants and a black sleep blouse, leaning over the back of her chair to see the canvas. It was a picture of the sea, surely an image she hadn't been able to get out of her head after the quick trip you took to the docks with Wylan to ensure a better hiding spot, in case things went south on Saturday.

"I don't know if I'm getting the blues right... you know how it somehow turns gray when the day's rainy?" she wondered out loud. "Don't throw it away altogether, I know you're already thinking about it" "I'm not!" Y/N giggled, knowing fully her boyfriend could read her mind. "Fix it in the morning. Let's go to bed now, yes?" Kaz tried, tilting his head to her right side and nudging his nose a little on her cheek as she hummed in response.

It had taken a long time, many years, to reach these moments. Years of hoping she could one day have his arms draped around her waist in security, head on his chest without a care in the world, because all that really mattered was they'd be keeping each other warm with their bodies. Y/N was patient, not minding the baby-steps and Kaz's constant need to push her away because he thought she deserved better. Truth is, there was no one better for her.

Kaz had a hard time wrapping his head around this fact. Did you love him for him? A limping criminal who was too weak to even bear the thought of embracing you when tears streamed down your cheeks on a specially tough day? Why? It took convincing, long talks, difficult moments and even worse fights... but you made it.

She felt his steady heartbeat as they lay together in their silk black sheets, indulging in the beauty of it. Their breathings became one, and she swore there was no better place the saints could come up with as heaven. "Everything's ready?" "Yes, I figured I should come here with you instead of overthinking it all. I'll tell everyone the plan tomorrow and revise it again the day before" he took a deep breath, turning to face her and leaving a soft kiss on her lips.

"It's late, you don't seem tired" Kaz noted, Y/N's eyes nowhere near closing as they usually would by now. Her boyfriend, on the contrary, was starting to hide that beautiful icy green his irises held, then came a yawn to confirm his fatigue. "Rest, my love. I'm sure I'm not too far behind," she assured him, pecking his head as he lay on her chest now.

"Goodnight, Kaz".

˚ · • . ° .

It may as well have been minutes, or hours, days, for all she cared to reason. All she knew was that she couldn't sleep for the life of her. Kaz moved a lot in his sleep and after he lost hold of her, the night became a non-stop tossing and turning in their shared bed. She could hear the faint sound of carriages passing down their street, surely carrying some rich merchant who just had the night of his life betting or in one of the pleasure houses.

It had been a while since she felt this way. Pretty much every night prior Kaz offered her a permanent position on the crows after she worked with them was like this. The clock in their room, hanging on a wall distant from her, kept ticking and if it got quiet enough, she could've been able to hear the gears turning. Three in the bloody morning and Y/N had luckily gotten by far twenty minutes of sleep. The girl sighed and lay down again, looking up at the ceiling briefly before closing her eyes in hopes of resting a little more.

She didn't, not even in the days ahead. Kaz pointed out how he could feel her moving way more than usual as his a light sleeper, not blaming her whatsoever but more concerned as to what was keeping her up. Y/N didn't know either, so she figured solving it with Jesper's coffee and quick (very ineffective) naps on the couches and tables at the slat so she could at least be aware of the task at hand; the job.

The day came, and she felt very optimistic about it all. Truth is, Y/N loved dressing up with pretty dresses and daggers hidden around her thighs. She found some kind of satisfaction in keeping this knowledge to herself, the men and women throwing looks at her, completely unaware of how dangerous she happened to be. People on the streets knew her as the wild child... ruthlessly gorgeous, is what Kaz called her.

The girl had a habit of getting carried away in a fight. Too much anger and resentment for the past had to find an exit. It did when she killed, leaving a scared Jesper to deal with an even more scared Wylan who wouldn't dare look her in the eye for weeks after she kept on punching a man's face she saw was trying to kidnap a little girl right after a job years ago. Kaz helped and understood.

His revenge was calculating and took years in which she was by her side, but Y/N just couldn't help herself when it came down to the people who did unspeakable things to her. With the years, she got a hold of herself even though her nickname on the barrel stuck, adding "the crow queen" when word got around she was Brekker's girl. Now, she was still ruthless but way more cold-headed and grounded, Kaz's doing.

She wore a pink dress with embroidered roses around the floaty sleeves. Inej had a blue set of dress pants and shirt, long-sleeved as well as Nina sported a hot red strapless dress with a lot of cleavage. "We're a smoke show! Those fuckers will barely be able to keep their eyes off of us." The last one squealed, adjusting her hair "That's the point" Inej giggled, agreeing clearly as she looked at herself in the mirror.

Y/N laughed at the thought and her head pained a little; Girls on those big houses did the very same thing they were doing now, with very different intentions. Those ladies wanted to find a rich husband, and they'd be set. Her friends were dressed to kill, and so was she. A little fucked up version of a cliché she, too, wished to live when she was little. "I hope these sleeves aren't an issue" she wondered, picturing them getting stuck on their knife or maybe being too tight to throw a punch.

"It's a simple job, love. There's nothing to be worried about! Also, I can bet on my life Kaz is going to be drooling over you when he sees." Nina smiled, playfully smacking her shoulder. "Even more so if you fight in that, he's going to go insane" spoke the Suli girl with a giggle "Kinky" the heartrender added, making the girlfriends break in a fit of laughter. Nina was right, Y/N knew, but decided against confirming her friend's assumptions.

Her eyes felt droopy from the obvious lack of sleep but nothing a cup of coffee couldn't fix, right? She walked down the stairs and into the makeshift kitchen they owned, heating up some. The smell filled her body with pleasant chills, and suddenly some more energy invaded her. "Wacha got there?" asked Wylan, who was quietly sitting behind her. How long had he been there? How did she not notice?

"Coffee, want some?" "Right before a job?" "Yes, I haven't been sleeping too well the last couple of days". Certain zemeni voice erupted from outside the room, exclaiming a brief "Neither have us!" that had the merchling blushing like he got some contagious disease. Y/N delivered a pat on his back, and coffee in hand she exited the room.

Kaz gathered everyone in the living room, to revise the plan once more. "...so make sure you cover that corn-" He stopped mid-sentence when Y/N came into view. Her hair looked polished, but she could be bald for all he cared. The dress complimented her figure beautifully, adjusting in the right places, which to Kaz was any place, really. Inej and Nina giggled and high fived. "Go on, love." She smiled, ready to listen attentively at his plan even though he made sure to walk her through it personally a few hours ago.

As Y/N brushed next to him, he grabbed her hand to make her stop right before she got seated. "You're stunning. Is it comfortable?" he whispered, looking at her with a certain glow in his eyes he once thought lost. "Yes, dear. Thank you" she pecked her boy's cheek and took a seat behind him. He went on with the plan, and everyone seemed pretty much ready to leave.

So they did.

˚ · • . ° .

"Darling, watch out!" Jesper exclaimed, shooting at a man behind Y/N. Things went south, they did. In the hiding spot Wylan and the girl had settled; some dreg must've ratted, they guessed. An ambush from some new-forming band trying to get known by stealing from The Crows themselves, pathetic. Inej had gotten there to help, but Y/N and Jesper insisted she went back and warned the others so to spare them from possible damage.

The wild child and Jesper were a great team, who knew a durast and an avid fighter could take down men three times their size and weight? They proved on many occasions to be useful for situations as these, so there was no problem. They'd be out of there in the blink of an eye. Around ten people had arrived at the scene, and four remained, Y/N realized as she took a kick in the gut and fell on her back, jumping back on her feet with a flip.

Jes' revolvers did the job for two others as she managed with the guy in front of her. "Come on, big guy, that can't be the best you got, aye?" she smiled wickedly, taunting the man with a daring hand despite the very much broken rib she could feel. The dress was ruined with blood she was sure wasn't hers, shreds ripped it off so largely one of her legs was now exposed.

He lunged forward, coming with a dirty blade to her throat, and she skipped it. Came again, now, aiming for her arm and she skipped it again, landing a kick on the throat that left him coughing on the ground. Y/N crouched to his level and grabbed him by the hair, sliding a knife in the same spot, careful not to cut. She noticed a tattoo on his neck, a beaver. Couldn't help but laugh. "You tell your boss not to mess around with us, or next time he won't get too lucky as to get less than half of his men in one piece. And change the tattoo, a bloody beaver? Seriously?"

The man nodded furiously, tripping on his way out of the warehouse. "A beaver? Their thing is beavers?" Jesper laughed, putting his babies back in place and making sure the painting they had stolen was still with him. "I know, couldn't pick a funnier thing" she answered, giggling. Looking around, something was odd. Yes, Y/N was not very well educated and lacked the month of college her best friend had, but she thought she counted four men remaining in this spot of the building.

The other six lay limp near the door, and there were two next to them, plus the one who ran with the message. One was missing. "Hey Jes I think we're missing one" "What do you mean? There's no one here". She stopped listening and her world went quiet when he met his yes. A lanky, tall figure could be seen next to a stack of boxes on her right, a flicking light revealing him for brief intervals of time. Ugly motherfucker carrying a gun that pointed straight at her.

The blood started gushing out of her leg before she could even react. "Too slow" she faintly heard. He wasn't stopping either; shooting at various places until one loud boom next to her made it cease. Was concrete always this cold? Oh, she was now feeling Jesper's soft suit. Warmer. "Is that wool?" Y/N asked and realized her voice sounded a little quieter than she meant. "Yes, it is doll. Open your eyes for me, okay? You can't die on me now"

She really tried. She really wanted to look at her best friends face and maybe hear him crack a joke or two. But her eyes felt droopy and her head felt heavy so she finally fell asleep.

˚ · • . ° .

Kaz arrived minutes later, Wylan, Nina and Inej by his side as they all rushed to a crying Jesper, desperately trying to wake Y/N up. "S-she got shot, didn't flinch.. like she didn't even see the bastard," he hiccuped, letting his boss take his place next to a limp body as his boyfriend helped him up and hugged him tightly.

Brekker's head spun. A thousand possibilities. There was blood all over the dress, and leaking over his clothes but he couldn't give a fuck. Not her. He couldn't bare it. Y/N was a piece of heaven in that saint forsaken island, the only saint he ever believed in and the angel that saved him from himself. If he lost her, there was no coming back for him. The water rose to his nose again for a brief moment.

It hadn't happened in a while. And he chose the techniques his lover taught him. He acted. "Nina" he mumbled, taking Y/N on his arms as the grisha girl assured him she had a pulse. His legs carried him to the slat, never too far from Nina, as she was making sure her pulse didn't slow down too much. He didn't even notice the pain in his bad leg. He felt a sting on his heart, so sharp it seemed as if pieces of broken glass would poke through it at any moment.

The boy sent Inej looking for whatever idiot decided it was a good idea to try and steal from them. Only information. He'd take care of them later. The Wraith left and was out all night, returning with a lot to say the next morning. Kaz looked over at Y/N's face and the utter peace that brushed over her features scared him even more. Not now. Not like this.

"Is she going to be okay? T-there was definitely something wrong with her back there" Jesper started once the girl was on the bed and getting healed with a few healers in the dregs and Nina. Kaz was sitting, head propped up in his hands as he stared at the wall opposite from him. "She didn't move! At all! He shot her three times and looked amused while doing it". The zemeni man had to stop if he wasn't trying to reunite with the other deceased blessed people on his bloodline. Kaz's stare hardened and his jaw clenched tightly.

"Wylan, I can't lose her. She was too slow a-" "ENOUGH" Kaz stood up, looking at him with murder in his eyes. "If you were more aware of the surroundings, she would be fine. Don't you dare call her slow. This is not her fault. You should've been there" menacing gloved finger pointing to his friend. "Oh, so this is my problem now?" Jesper countered in complete disbelief. "If you don't consider your best friend's life being at critical risk a problem you're much more of a superficial, incompetent and heartless bastard than I thought." Kaz spat.

He knew this wasn't Jesper's fault, maybe it was the lack of sleep or you just weren't on your element. But he had to let it out with someone. Anyone. Pain turns into anger and screaming at your brother when it's too strong. He knew that better than anyone and couldn't care to stop himself this time. "Kaz, stop" Wylan said, and then he noticed Jesper's puffy eyes with a sigh. Then he felt his own neck starting to tickle. He was crying. Kaz Brekker didn't cry.

"Out" "But Ka-" "I SAID OUT"

And out they were. Everyone who didn't need to be there to save his girl's life. He could hear Nina struggling between wrecked sobs, fast pacing around the room and a distant sound of water running non-stop. Hours passed, and he remained in the same position, in the same chair, with the same thoughts running wild inside him.

Not you. Please. I should've been there. I'm going to kill them. Please be okay. I can't do it without her. Please.

Kaz Brekker was repeating pleas, thinking out loud to whoever was listening. Let her live. Please let her live. This is not her fault. Not to a god, neither to those saints who proved to exist so many years ago. He didn't know who he was asking for help to. But he was screaming, please don't let her go. He was leaving with her if she did.

All sound stopped, and Nina emerged from the dimly lit room, drying her cheeks. The boy stood up, looking at her with the most terrified look he ever gave someone. Fuck the facade. He was utterly afraid. "She's okay, not waking up, but she will". He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and couldn't help but throw himself into Nina's arms in search for some comfort to his wrecked sobs.

His friend received him with open arms, careful not to squeeze him too hard, as she knew that could trigger him. "I can't lose her, Nina" he whimpered before pulling away. "You're not. Not now and not soon. She's okay, Kaz. Stay with her, will you? She could be a little startled if she wakes up in an empty room"

He almost scoffed at that. What else would he do? A quiet nod was delivered, and he stepped inside to accompany her in an uncharacteristically unsettling silence. There were dirty gauzes everywhere, her dirty dress discarded in a corner and a blanket covering her figure. Kaz stopped, looking at your chest. It rose and fell in a moderate rhythm. Good.

Taking a seat once again, he held her hand and brushed a thumb over it, grateful to whoever listened. And Nina.

Sun bled through the curtains, filling it all with a pleasant orange hue Kaz knew Y/N would appreciate. Jesper came by every few hours and amends were made. He understood how badly everything hit Kaz the day before and didn't need an apology. They were all under intense pressure the day before, couldn't blame him for a such a reaction. Wylan had brought flowers and Inej made sure everything was ready for when she regained consciousness.

His crows got it handled.

A whole day and a half had gone by and he was reading beside her when she woke up. Her hand moved and he could feel the twitch in his palm, looking up frantically to find those pretty y/e/c eyes looking back at him. "Finally, got some sleep," she joked and laughed at her own joke. Kaz laughed back. "Hello" he offered, kissing her hand and never really wanting to let go "Hi". "Are you feeling okay?" the boy asked, happy to see his lover once again awake.

"It hurts a bit but I'll live" "I'm counting on that, my love". ♡

#kaz brekker fluff #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker fic #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker #six of crows #six of crows x reader #grishaverse x reader #shadwo and bone netflix #crooked kingdom #freddy carter #shadow and bone season two #sab s2

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ipseitydelrey · 3 months

Note

Could you maybe do a fic about Carmy and the reader where they dated all through high school and carmy asked the reader to marry him and she says no bc she doesn’t want to hold him back from going to NYC ?

THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY

as they go by ☆ c. berzatto

ship carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings angst with an ambiguous ending (sorry babes <3), slight manipulation?, a hell of a lot of arguing, possible break-up (choice is yours), not beta-read

word count 1.5k

summary initially, you were fine with having a long-distance relationship with carmy while he was in new york city. after all, you’re just his girlfriend; you were happy with that, and that’s how you want it to stay when he’s gone.

a/n this took so insanely and unnecessarily long and i am so sorry for postponing this fic. took a while and it was difficult to write, but i felt determined to finish this. disclaimer: not my best work but i legit tried

The proposal came as a shock. You were sure it had been many seconds, maybe even a minute or two since Carmy had uttered the words “Will you marry me?” as if it was a common phrase, thrown out into the open.

To be fair, you both did discuss the possibility of marriage in the future. But you were naïve high schoolers, merely seventeen and blind to the problems you’d have to face in your personal and shared lives.

You weren’t annoyed or angry that Carmy had gotten the opportunity in New York City; on the contrary, you were happy. It’s a great thing for his career in the culinary world, and seeing him be so excited about the prospect made you feel so proud to see how far he had come.

Granted, maintaining your relationship while he was in New York and you stayed in Illinois would be hard. You told him to expect a lot of phone and video calls, as well as a bombardment of messages, but you didn’t know at the time that he would be gone for a year at least. Still, you both agreed to try.

You could handle being a long-distance girlfriend, but being a long-distance wife?

“I don’t know,” you default to as no other words could come to mind.

Carmy looks at you confused. “You don’t know?” he parrots. “What do you mean?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.; you don’t even know why you couldn’t just say a simple “yes” or “no.” It’s hard to look him in the eyes, especially when an argument is now inevitable, so you keep your eyes glued to your fidgeting hands in your lap.

“Well, um,” you stammer, struggling to find your verbal footing, “I don’t…wanna move to New York.”

Although you only see a blurred version of him through your peripheral vision, Carmy nods slightly and purses his lips. “I know that already.”

You sigh softly, thinking of what to say next. “I’m comfortable here — I like it in Chicago. It’s just…I don’t know if we can make a long distance thing work if we’re married. I’d be busy and I’m sure you would be too, I don’t know how we would be able to see each other in person if our schedules are so full.”

He sighs; you don’t know if this is actually how he feels, but you swear that he’s annoyed that you didn’t say yes. “Is that it? Y’know, I can just stay here if it worries you—”

“No,” you’re quick to cut him off as you snap your head to look at him. “I don’t want you to give up on an amazing opportunity just because of me.”

“There’s other Michelin star restaurants in Chicago,” he reasons. “I can apply to one of them and stay here.”

“But New York!” You didn’t mean to say it that harshly, so you breathe and try to regain your composure. “I don’t know why you would want to give up being a chef in New York just for me.”

Carmy buries his face in his hands, but his mouth is still exposed. “I’m not…giving it up; I’m just relocating, that’s all. Why are you trying to put my career ahead of you?”

You scoff at the notion. “I’m not.”

“But you are,” he counters exasperatingly. “Why?”

Your lips form a line and you look down. The words are hard to conjure, but they come eventually. “You’ve just loved to cook for so long…and now you have a really good offer and I want you to take it.”

“I’ve loved you for longer.” You can’t really argue when it’s kind of the truth. But then again, he’s always had a interest in cooking — and you’re sure that he developed an interest in you after that.

Knowing that you won’t win this portion of the argument, you sigh, and try to change the topic…sort of. “There’s also another thing,” you mention, and he looks at you again. “I don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

His tone has a tinge of frustration. “You mean marriage?” he asks sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You’re starting to grow annoyed at his stubbornness; of course you knew he could get like this, but he’s really not letting this conversation go for another day. “You know I didn’t mean like that.”

“Well it’s the implication.” The hell does implication have to do with anything right now? “You’re saying it like it isn’t important for our relationship.”

“You couldn’t have waited until you got back from New York to pop the question?”

“I’ve waited and I’m impatient.”

“Carmen.” The nickname is no longer effective. It’s clear to him now that you’re genuinely pissed with him and have had it. “You’re not listening to me; I’m not ready. Please drop it.”

“Last time we talked about this, you were excited,” he says. “What changed?”

“Well, for one, age,” you retort. “We were, what, seventeen? It’s just teenage talk, and we were too young to be thinking about marriage already.”

You tiredly sigh, looking down at your hands again. “There’s more, isn’t there?” He doesn’t ask it like a question, but instead he says it like a statement for you to confirm.

Hesitantly, you nod. “Just— I’m not ready now, but that doesn’t really mean that I don’t want to get married ever,” you try to grasp at any rational explanation you can, struggling to try to explain why. “If you loved me, then you’d wait, y’know.”

Your eyes shoot wide at the realization of what just slipped out of your lips; did you really just say that? It sounds as if Carmy is thinking that exact same question. “I didn’t mean—”

“You think I don’t love you?” His voice carries a sliver of anger and insecurity as he asks that.

“No, Carm—”

Your words force him to look away from you, his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched. He breathes once through his nose deeply before abruptly getting up from the couch and making a beeline towards the bedroom. Worried, you follow his path and find him harshly opening the closet door and pulling out an old suitcase.

You stand there, a few feet away from him, realizing what he’s doing. “Carmy—”

“You want me to drop it, I’m dropping it.” He doesn’t even so much as glance at you as he tosses the suitcase on the bed and starts to grabs his clothes. “You want me to go to New York, I’m taking the fucking offer. I know you don’t want me here anymore; that’s fine.”

“That’s not true.”

The way he packs is haphazard, rushed and angry; much like how he tends to cook when he gets too emotional. He doesn’t even take the time to fold some of the clothes, opting to instead stuff them in and hope they fit well enough to get the zipper closed. “You have all these excuses and you keep delaying it. It’s clear — you’re fine with marriage, but not with marrying me. You keep saying that you’re not ready, but you’re just too scared to say no. And now I have to do it for you.”

He does manage to close the suitcase and he’s fast to collect it and move past you. “Carm, please,” you turn to follow him, the initial annoyance from earlier flowing out of your body and being replaced with some sort of anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. “Let’s talk about this.”

“We did.” He’s white-knuckling the handle of the bag and he looks at you for only a second. You see a flash of anger, disappointment, and something else you can’t quite put your finger on in his eyes. He unlocks the front door.

“Carmen—”

And you’re interrupted by the abrupt slam of the door closing and the absence of him. Just like that, he’s gone; not even giving you a chance to change his mind or even explain what he means to you — what he meant to you.

You’re supposed to cry, but you can’t even try to force any tears out. You’re just numb and bewildered at how fast the situation unfolded.

You consider for a moment about chasing him like the end of an early 2000’s romcom, but you know that this isn’t like a movie. This isn’t fiction, it’s reality; he wouldn’t just accept you back into his arms like nothing happened, he’d be bitter and loathsome, even more so than he usually is.

You’re not sad. You can’t bring yourself to be sad over him, especially when he couldn’t try to understand how you felt. No, you’re…angry? Would that even be the right word for how you feel now that he’s gone?

You don’t need to think about that; you don’t want to right now. Instead, you drag yourself back to the couch where this all started and you fall onto its cushions, tired of him and tired of this.

The next step to take isn’t clear to you at the moment. You could call Carmy, you could wait, or you could not speak to him ever again. The choice is yours to make, but you don’t want to choose right now. Your eyelids grow heavy, and so you let yourself fall into a cold sleep.

would y’all want a part 2 or not? i’d only write it if y’all wanted it.

#✩ ⊹˖ ꒰ carmy ꒱ ୨🎧୧ #the bear #the bear x you #the bear x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #jeremy allen white

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eyesthatroll · 7 months

Text

GIVE ME AN ANSWER!

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader

warning(s): cursing, angst(??), not sure what else, not edited

word count: 2.5k

author’s note: not super happy with this, it feels a bit underdeveloped, but i can’t watch it sit in my drafts any longer. i didn’t write this with a part ll in mind, by the way. this was supposed to turn into something else, but that didn’t work out + i lost inspiration so it is what it is. sidenote, if you have any angsty/sad prompts/requests, pls send ‘em in, it’s my favourite thing to write! sending love, —mari

You couldn't help but feel like a creep, huddled in the corner of the dimly lit booth, your gaze fixated on them from across the bar. In front of you, a nearly forgotten gin and tonic sat, its ice cubes melting as you absentmindedly swirl them around with a small black straw. If anyone were to inquire, you'd insist that your attention was solely on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall behind them, broadcasting a wrestling match you had zero interest in.

You wondered if He was somehow aware of your unwavering gaze fixed upon him from across the room. It crossed your mind that perhaps he was deliberately flirting with the stunning redhead as a sly ploy to put on a spectacle, fully cognizant of your watchful eyes. Did He hope to incite jealousy within you? You nearly chuckled at the absurdity of the idea. The notion of feeling envious over a girl with her hands lightly grazing his arm seemed laughable. After all, just a few days ago, he had been lying naked between the sheets in your bed. So, no, you weren't jealous, and you certainly weren't about to let jealousy rear its head.

Yet, there was a gnawing irritation within you. He had, after all, extended a personal invitation your way, urging you to join him and his teammates for what he touted as their "one last hurrah" before the start of the new season. It irked you that he was lavishing so much attention on someone else, given this context. The annoyance was unmistakably etched across your features. Your poker face had long deserted you, and you didn't care to conceal your disdain. Several drinks deep, with a pleasant buzz now enveloping you, you found yourself in a carefree state where your demeanor wasn't a primary concern.

You eventually shift your gaze from him, an uneasy feeling retreating in your stomach. You instead direct your attention to Baby Hughes, who is engrossed in a game of darts with John. A small smile graces your lips as the younger boy, with his earnest enthusiasm, throws a dart that sails far wide of the board, disappearing into some unseen corner. John throws his head back in laughter, and it's evident that he's playfully ribbing Luke, who responds with a melodramatic explanation for his errant throw, punctuating with wild hand gestures. You contemplate joining them, when a towering figure looms over you, casting a shadow that demands your immediate notice.

"Is this seat taken?" You find yourself under the scrutiny of a tall, attractive blonde who's looking down at you. A hopeful smile adorns his lips, revealing dimples that only add to his charm. His right hand holds a beer, while the other rests casually at the nape of his neck, lightly tugging the hair. Your eyes travel appreciatively from his warm gaze, down his well-dressed figure. Blondie sported black slacks that complement a maroon long-sleeve dress shirt neatly tucked in, with the top buttons lazily undone, revealing a small, glimmering gold cross. The choice of attire piqued your curiosity; he seemed a bit overdressed for a local, family owned bar.

Your minds flickers back to Him, and you contemplate stealing a quick glance in his direction to see if he's still in conversation that girl. However, you are somewhat physically trapped behind the man standing in front of you, preventing any discreet surveillance without making your intentions obvious. Opting for a polite smile instead, you gesture with a welcoming hand for the handsome stranger to take the seat in front of you.

You observe the visible sigh of relief escaping him, his eyes momentarily betraying his unease. With a sheepish smile, he gently places his drink on the table and eases himself into the booth.

His voice, raspy and honestly deeper than you expected, breaks the silence. "I'm Anthony, by the way." He extends his hand toward you, but halts for a moment, perhaps feeling slightly awkward at the formality.

You respond with a light chuckle, reaching out to meet his hand with yours for a firm handshake. "I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."

The conversation with Anthony flows effortlessly, each word weaving a tapestry of connection that unravels the initial awkwardness. You discover that he's in town for a friend's wedding, which explains the formal attire, and that he's a native Rhode Islander. He confesses his nervousness about approaching you, and when you jest about whether it's due to your so-called "resting bitch face," he denies it vehemently.

He smiles, his eyes sincere as he offers, "It's always a bit nerve-wracking to approach the most beautiful girl in the room."

You can't help but snort at his compliment, your hand quickly covering your mouth in embarrassment.

Unbeknownst to you, your surprised snort captures His attention, and his head snaps in your direction, drawn by the sound of your voice cutting through the bar's lively atmosphere. His gaze lowers at the sight of a guy in front of you, and the smile on your lips as you laugh again at something he's said. He watches, as the guy's hand moves to rest on yours, and his jaw tightens, his mind racing with questions about what could possibly be so amusing in your conversation.

"Jack, are you listening to me?" A manicured hand slides into his view, weaving through the air in a bid to recapture his attention. Clearing his throat, he absentmindedly runs a hand through his unruly brown locks before reluctantly refocusing his eyes on the redhead before him. She beams at him, her lips quickly resuming what she had been saying before his lost concentration. The truth was, he hadn't been listening to her at all.

He can't focus on her words, not with the image of you and that guy now engraved into his mind. The mere thought consumes his every breath, causing him to bite at his bottom lip out of agitation. He racks his brain for a way to gracefully escape the everlasting conversation with the redhead, and as if on cue, the universe seems to answer his silent plea, when the girl in front of him glances at the clock. Her eyes widen in alarm as she realizes the time.

"Shit, I didn't realize it was this late. I've got to get going," she apologized, her lips forming a slight pout. Jack sends her a reassuring smile, nodding his head in understanding.

"It's cool, it was fun while it lasted," He replies plainly, standing up from his barstool with a nod.

She frowns, mirroring his actions. "Did you want to maybe exchange numbers, or something?" Her voice holds a glimmer of hope.

He pauses, pretending to think for a moment, even though he doesn't really need to as the answer was always going to be the same. "No, sorry. Have a good night, Isla."

You don't even notice Him walking over to you, too consumed in the vibrant conversation that you shared with the man in front of you. It's only when Anthony's gaze travels past your head, his lips pausing mid sentence, that you finally catch sight of him. You follow Anthony's gaze, angling your body around in the small booth.

You open your mouth to speak, but His cold palms cup your cheeks, drawing you into a passionate, yet utterly unexpected and somewhat unwelcome kiss. Your eyes widen, caught off guard, and your lips don't have time to react before he gently pulls away. His fingers tenderly brush aside a stray strand of hair that had fallen across your face, and he looks down at you with an innocent smile. "Hi, my love. Is everything okay?"

You're too dumbfounded to formulate a response, still struggling to register what just transpired as Jack gently nudges you aside and smoothly settles into the booth next to you. As you lock eyes with Anthony, it's evident he feels extremely uncomfortable, his gaze darting uneasily between you and Jack.

"Hey, man. How's it goin'?" Jack asks with a casual grin, his tone laid-back as he eases into the booth. His arm naturally drapes around your shoulders, as if it's a habitual gesture that's been repeated countless times. You go to shrug him off, but his grasp tightens, pulling you even closer against his side.

"Hey... hi," Anthony's gaze leaves Jack, focusing solely on you as he speaks again. "You didn't say you had a..."

Jack interjects, cutting off Anthony before he can finish his sentence. "Boyfriend? Yeah, she does."

Your elbow makes sharp contact with Jack's side, prompting a quick release of his arm from around your shoulder. He winces, but swiftly regains his composure, though not without a slight scoff escaping his lips. "He's not my boyfriend."

"You weren't saying that last night?" Jack didn't come to yours last night, and even if he had, he was the one requesting that whatever was happening between the two of you to remain casual.

I don't have time for a full blown relationship, he said.

All of my focus needs to be on hockey, he said.

Things are fine as they are, let's not ruin it, he said.

And what? He gets to flirt and fuck around with as many puck bunnies as he wants, but the minute you try and do the same, it's suddenly a problem? Not only was he not your boyfriend, but he didn't even want to be, he had no right to get jealous. And he especially had no right to rush over here and kiss you the way he did.

You pivot towards Jack, your fury emanating from every pore. His T-zone area has a faint reddish tint, and his breaths come fast and heavy. "Aren't you busy entertaining Jessica Rabbit?"

He tilts his head back in laughter at your nickname for the redhead he's been conversing with all night. Clearing his throat to regain composure, he gazes at you with a grin, teeth lightly grazing his lower lip as he tries to suppress a smirk that manages to break free regardless. "Jealous?"

You scoff, an incredulous look overtaking your face as you stumble over your words at his accusation. "Me? Jealous? Jealous of what? Listening to you talk about yourself for an hour? God, you're so full of it."

"Wouldn't you like to be?" He mumbles under his breath.

His perverted insinuation prompts a gasp to escape your lips, and your face ignites with embarrassment. Anthony's eyes are locked on the awkward exchange, his expression a mixture of horror and discomfort. You hurriedly bring your hands to your face, rubbing your eyes intensely, yearning for this nightmarish moment to come to an end.

"I don't... I don't know what's happening," he stammers, slipping out of the booth to rise to his feet. Anthony takes a final sip of his beer, his head shaking in disbelief. "But clearly, there's... something between the two of you."

You find yourself at a loss for words because, in a way, he isn't entirely wrong. You and Jack weren't in a defined relationship, but there was undoubtedly something brewing between the two of you, despite both of you attempting to ignore it. It wouldn't be right to involve Anthony in the midst of your complicated situation, no matter how appealing and genuine he seems.

"I'm sorry." You apologize.

He shakes his head. "It's alright. It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Maybe I'll see you around." With those words, he walks away from your table, heading toward the exit.

Jack shifts next to you, a content sigh escaping his lips. "He seemed nice."

"What's your problem?!" You hiss, jabbing your finger into his chest. "You invite me out with you and then completely ignore me the whole night? What the fuck, Jack!"

He meets your intensity head-on, responding in self-defense. "You started it!"

"How, Jack, how? How did I start it?"

"You were flirting with Dawson!"

A scoff escapes your lips, followed by an incredulous laugh. "I was not flirting with Dawson!"

You needed to escape the bar. The conversation had spiraled into a heated exchange, and the air in the crowded space felt increasingly suffocating. You were determined not to create a scene, but it was clear that staying any longer would only escalate tensions.

Without hesitation, you start pushing Jack, who reluctantly lets his body be forced out of the booth. He struggles to regain his footing as you forcefully move past him, heading straight for the exit.

As you pass through the door and step outside, the brisk New Jersey air envelopes you, offering a welcome contrast to the heated atmosphere inside. The chill grazes your exposed skin, providing a refreshing respite from the intense emotions swirling within. Jack hastily follows you, his fingers gripping your arm in an attempt to halt your departure, but you had no intention of walking away this time.

You pivot to confront him, your gaze unwavering and filled with a determination that mirrored the intensity in his own eyes, which held an enigmatic spark you couldn't quite decipher.

"It's not fair," you assert, your hands gently settling on his chest, seeking the warmth of his presence. He remains silent, leaving you to fill the void with your thoughts and emotions, or leave, and say nothing.

You stand there, torn between two choices. The option to say nothing and simply walk away, leaving behind all the headaches, the arguments, and the pettiness, but also bidding farewell to the good days, the shared laughs, and the nights spent wrapped up in each other. It's a choice to say goodbye to Jack Hughes, the one who has become the only constant in your life for the past three months.

Or the second choice, the most daunting path to take. It's the option where you stand in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest, and confess everything you've been holding in. To leave it all on the floor, a vulnerable offering for him to accept or decline. It's the scariest option of all, baring your heart to the boy on the hockey team, even after he's made it clear many times that he isn't looking for anything serious.

"We're not exclusive, Jack." You begin. "You can't keep swooping in and acting like you have some sort of ownership over me when you don't even want to be my boyfriend."

He waits, the stillness between you heavy with unspoken words, expectancy etched across his features. When your silence lingers, he takes the initiative. "Let me take you home," he offers.

"Either you want me, only me, or I'm done."

He pressures. "Let me take you home."

"Give me an answer!"

He sighs, a deep and exasperated sound, his fingers instinctively tangling in the roots of his hair as he grapples with the complexity of the situation. "I can't give you the answer you want."

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fanfiction

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sopewr · 7 months

Text

back to work

ceo!jk x secretary!fem!reader

word count: 1693

warnings: nsfw (minors dni), porn with a little plot, unprotected piv (wrap it before u tap it!!!), dirty talk, he has a foul mouth, hints of size kink, harddom!jk, overstimulation, fingering, oral (f. rec), bratty reader if you squint, dumbification (sawryyyy), hair pulling, dacryphilia???, semipublic sex, use of petnames, tiny bit of breeding kink, bondage, jk has a ‘sir’ kink, not proofread we die like men

wow okay i think that’s all, tell me if i missed anything!

——————————————————————————————

jungkook has been shooting daggers at her with his eyes all day. she wasn’t sure why her boss was angry with her; maybe it was the unintentional flirting with her co-workers, or the way her skirt — again unintentionally — rode up to reveal his favorite set of lingerie that he bought her.

and before she knew it, she found herself getting called to his office. when she knocked on the door jungkook was quick to answer. “do you need something, sir?” she uttered quickly, and innocently as one can be in this situation. she was already wet with the thought of what he would do to her the second she decided to tease him today.

“y/n, sit down please. also close the door, will you?” she quickly obeyed, not that there could be another notion in her head when she was with him. jungkook didn’t say a word, his eyes gazing over her. he then calmly placed his glasses on the desk as he got up from his chair. the room was too quiet, the only thing that can be heard was his steps as he walked over to sit in front of her.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“need your words sweet girl or are you already too dumb to speak? why so quiet now? you were flirting with those fuckers out there, letting them check you out?” he smirked at her mockingly. she could see the fury and jealousy seeking behind his eyes. she knew the one thing jungkook hated was sharing what was his.

“alright, you’re not gonna speak so be it, bend over.” he ordered as he got up, pointing to the desk with a nod.

when she did, jungkook’s hands immediately flew to her exposed ass; his fingers tracing the lingerie.

“you planned this didn’t you, doll?” his hand caressed her clothed cunt. “you’re already so fucking wet, is it for me or other men?”

“f’you, sir.” she choked out. “hm, but i don’t think they know that this pussy belongs to me.” she moaned at his words, clenching around nothing. “please…” she whined, pushing her hips backwards for some friction. he laughed at her mercilessly. “so needy.” jungkook slowly pulled her lingerie down, letting it fall to floor.

he toyed with her entrance. “already dripping for me, such a whore.” he was too much to handle. her body was hot and she was squirming. it was so empty without the feeling of him inside her. “need you, please…” he hummed quietly, “i don’t think you deserve it.”

his voice was low, something in her brain short circuited when the words spilled from his mouth. poisonous yet so sweet. the need to earn his praise.

“anything, sir, please. need your cock, need you to fill me up.” she whined. “oh, baby… you know you can’t take my cock, need to prep you first. either way you already know you’re not gonna get it so easy.”

“but— but i’m already wet, please.” jungkook sucked his teeth. “you talking back to me? need me to remind you whose in charge here or are you too dumb to understand?” she shook her head. “no, sir.”

“atta girl, that’s what i thought.” his fingers teased her entrance first, then slid inside. she moaned at the feeling, his other hand held her hips in a bruising grip. he moved them for a few seconds before pulling them out again. she shuddered at the loss of his finger. “open your mouth.” his fingers pressed flat on her tongue. she could feel his erection pressing against her ass. “suck, baby.” her tongue spun around his fingers, tasting herself. “such a good whore, doing everything i say. my whore.” she hummed around his digits. he pulled out his fingers from her mouth before speaking. “turn around, doll.”

jungkook didn’t waste a second when she did. he got on his knees and pried her legs open. “no touching until i let you, got it?” he looked up at her with expecting eyes. “yes, sir.” he smirked before leaving a tender kiss inside her left thigh. he started slow with pepper kisses, then biting. still not giving her what she wanted from him. before she could whine the sound died in her throat as he licked a hot stripe up against her folds. he groaned at the taste which sent the vibrations right to her clit. he started licking small and paced laps against her core, causing her breath to come out as short puffs.

one of his arms moved to her stomach to keep her in place as she kept squirming under him. he slowly moved upwards, nudging her clit with his nose. she sucked in a sharp breath as she threw head back. his other hand once again moved to her entrance, pressing the same two digits against it, slowly easing them in.

the sound of his mouth on her bare cunt, and fingers moving inside lewdly accompanied with her moans — which she tried to keep as low as possible — echoed inside his office.

she was close, so close, clenching around his fingers. her hands instinctively moved to his hair, big mistake. jungkook pulled away almost instantly as he slapped her hands away. “what the fuck did tell i you about touching?” she whimpered at the loss of his touch. “i’m sorry— i— i was so close, please.” she cried. “was that my question, doll?” his voice was harsh. “no… no touching.” he nodded slowly. “that’s right, and what did you do?” his brows furrowed as he glared at her. “i disobeyed you.”

he stood up, and started to loosen his tie. “so? if you know what i said, why aren’t you fucking doing it?” jungkook’s words were deliciously degrading. she looked away in embarrassment and mixed emotions. one of his hands went to the back of her head, fisting up her hair to force eye contact. “look at me when i’m talking to you. why aren’t you fucking doing it? so eager for my cock that you can’t even do as you’re told.” tears filled up at her eyes, but she didn’t know if it was because of his harsh words or because he wasn’t fucking her. a mocking smirk appeared on his lips, “you’re crying now? god, such a fucking crybaby.”

“give me your hands.” she extended her hands towards him. he tied them with his tie then pushed her shoulders to lay her down on the desk, her hands above her head.

he finally unbuttoned his pants, pulling it down just enough so he could take his cock out. he held it with one of his hands as the other took hold of her hips. the tip slowly caressed her folds, collecting the wetness. without a warning he bottomed out, eliciting a loud moan from her. his now free hand sprawled on her stomach feeling himself. one of his hands still there, the other moved to her clit; drawing small circles as he started thrusting his hips slowly. she couldn’t help the incoherent words and moans spill from her mouth when he fastened his pace.

“you feel so fucking good,” he groaned. “gonna leave you leaking with my cum so everyone knows i’m the one breeding this tight pussy.”

the hand on her stomach moved to hold her hair again, harshly pulling it back so he could attack her throat; sucking and biting all over it, leaving his mark. “gonna let everyone know you’re mine and only mine. say it.”

“yours… only yours, sir.” she rambled. she could once again feel the tension build up in the stomach eager to be unraveled. “milking my cock so damn well, baby.” his pace was brutal, not faltering for even a second. “i’m— shit i’m gonna—“ before he could realize, she came. he didn’t stop the movement of his hips, instead roughened the attacks on her clit. “where are your manners, doll? not even asking me if you could.”

“too much— i can’t, too sensitive—“ she whined. “oh, you can and you will.”

the overstimulation was mouth-watering. she kept moaning relentlessly. “that’s it, baby, let everyone in the building know that you’re such a slut that you’re letting your boss fuck you right where everyone could enter.” jungkook was close to his release. with a loud moan he came inside her, still breathless he pulled out to watch his cum leak from her cunt. he pushed some of it back inside before pulling his pants up. jungkook then pulled her up to her feet, untying her hands. he fixed her skirt and hair as he waited for her to come back down to earth. “you okay, doll?” she nodded quickly. he smiled at her sweetly this time.

giving her a small peck on her lips, jungkook walked back his chair. “you can go back to work now, y/n, thank you for your time.” he was back to addressing her formally.

she chuckled breathlessly. she was right about to leave when she realized something was missing. “jungkook where are my panties?” he looked up from his glasses, his gaze dark. a small smirk on his lips which could easily be missed if you weren’t paying attention.

“go back to work, doll.”

——————————————————————————————

#jungkook #imagine #oneshot #x reader #bts #taehyung #yoongi #smut #fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook x yn

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enoe-of-noen · 15 days

Text

Glass Petal Vision

Based on the Glass event <3

☞ Word count: 1,104 💀

Mc took hold of a petal on the ground. “Oh! Does that mean we get to see what your ideal world is, Mc?” Luke looked up at them expectantly. Mc chuckled and shrugged. “Well, let’s see.”

A bright flash of white appeared and cleared as the cast found themselves in the House of Lamentation. “Mc!” whined Leviathan as he tugged on Mc’s sleeve. “Tell Mammoron to pay me back already! He’ll listen to you!” Mc sighed as they closed their book.

“Ah, Mc, before you take care of that, could I tell you about this chapter? A quick second.” Satan peered from his book with pleading eyes. Mc chuckled at the sight. “I promise I’ll deal with Mams quick, Tanny.”

“Mc, I brought back food for you.” Beelzebub handed Mc a donut. “That’s your favorite flavor, right?” “Yeah.” Beelzebub’s eyes sparkled and grinned. “I’ll get that next time too, then.”

Mc nodded and took a bite. Belphegor passed by with his pillow, kissing Mc’s cheek. “I’m gonna take a nap, join me later,” he smiled briefly before walking off, following Beelzebub. “Mc! Check this out!” Asmodeus showed a magazine with him on the cover, dressed in stylish clothing. “You look dashing.” “Don’t I? They really captured my good side — like this? The lighting was perfect!” Asmodeus practically squealed.

“Hey! Mc! My man! Got any spare grimm you could lend to the Great Mammon?” He jumped onto Mc’s back, making them stumble. “Mams!” They laughed. “Mammon, for the final time, stop jumping on Mc! You could damage their back.” Lucifer stepped in with a scowl.

Mammon groaned and slid off Mc’s back. “Back to the grimm,” he whispered into Mc’s ear. “Mammon!” Lucifer glared. Mammon ran off as Lucifer calmly walked after him, leaving Mc alone. Yet, despite it all, they stood there, smiling.

White flashed as they return to the present. “Wait…nothing was different about that world.” Mammon pointed out. “Captain obvious, here,” Belphegor scoffed. “What, hey! Respect your elders!”

“Isn’t that touching?” Simeon smiled woefully. “Couldn’t help but notice the fact we weren’t part of this vision of yours,” Solomon frowned. Mc smiled, patting Solomon’s shoulder.

“You’re just jealous. Besides, it seems we have overworked the flower.” Mc chuckled. Their laugh made Simeon and Solomon smile. “As long as you’re happy, Mc.” Diavolo grinned. “It is an honor to know that you don’t see much to change,”Barbatos added. “Not that it’s a bad thing that the others did.”

“Really, Mc? Are you truly that selfless?” Luke beamed. Mc shook their head. “I just enjoy how things are now. Yeah, I have wishes and whatnot, but I’ve got you guys and your silly quirks. I might not love everything, but I certainly love all of you.”

Leviathan and Luke teared up at the notion and wiped their cheeks. “That’s awfully sweet of you, Mc.” Satan smiled warmly. “I promise I’ll always share my food with you, Mc,” Beelzebub chuckled. “I promise to always give you the chance to nap.” Belphegor offered.

“If you need a listening ear, you’ve always got me, Mc!~” Asmodeus cooed, hugging them. Mc snickered as they pat Asmodeus’ arm. “I’ll gladly spend hours with a book and your company in my room.” Satan bowed slightly as he took Mc’s hand and kissed their palm.

“M-my room is always open if you want to play games o-or watch anime together!” Leviathan squeaked, an obvious blush on his cheeks. “The Great Mammon’s got your back! Anytime, any day, human!” He boastfully pointed to himself with his thumb. “You can always rely on me, Mc.” Lucifer smiled sweetly.

“Don’t forget about us, Mc!” Luke held their jacket. “I’ll always make sure to invite you whenever we bake! Always!” Simeon hummed in agreement and pat the chihuahua’s head. “We enjoy your company.” He handsomely smiled.

“I’ll always lend a magical helping hand,” Solomon smirked, holding his hand out. Mc smirked back and took it softly. Asmodeus giggled, still hanging onto Mc’s neck as he snuggled. “I’ll prepare you tea whenever you visit the young lord’s castle, dear Mc.” Barbatos smiled with closed eyes, a hand placed on his chest. “Haha! It’s always wonderful to see Mc be appreciated!” Diavolo laughed.

“And what about you, Dia?” “Pardon?” Mc pat Asmodeus’ hands and he let go with a mischievous expression. Mc approached Diavolo closer with intent in their eyes. “What exactly can the lord of the Devildom do for little old me, hm?” They smirked, circling Diavolo like prey. Diavolo felt a thrill and he laughed with red cheeks.

“My castle is always open for your visits!” He grinned, desperately trying to keep his composure. Mc giggled. “What about,” their hands ghosted Diavolo’s arms, “these are kept open for me? You know how much I love warm hugs.” They hummed. Diavolo heard his heart in his ears and struggled to not breathe so heavily.

Meanwhile, Lucifer was holding the brothers back from intervening. With Simeon holding back Barbatos and Solomon. “Oi! Human! You’re flirting with the wrong demon! Your number one is over here!” Mammon’s mouth was promptly shut by a swift wave of Lucifer’s hand.

“Young lord, Mc,” Barbatos strained. “Please, Barbatos, calm down,” Simeon begged. “What’s going on?” Luke tried to grab at Asmodeus’ hand covering his eyes. “Hush, Luke! Tension!” Asmodeus snickered. “T-tension?”

“I’ll come over to the castle after this ordeal is over, m’kay?” Mc winked at Diavolo, making him still. “Mc, I can’t hold Barbatos any long-“ in an instant, Barbatos chased after Mc and they cackled as they sprinted. “Go easy on me!” They laughed maniacally.

“Should we not help them?” Beelzebub looked at Lucifer nervously. “They deserve it.” “Hah?! I was jealous but I ain’t letting that old man beat my human to death!” Mammon retorted.

“Don’t worry, Mc will be fine. This isn’t their first time,” Lucifer sighed. “Wahhh?? What does that mean?” Leviathan fidgeted with his hands. “Haha, Mc tends to be…frivolous with Barbatos.” Diavolo chuckles as he scratches the back of his neck.

“They’re allowed to do that?” Asmodeus grinned. “They’ve survived?” Mammon looks flabbergasted. “It seems to be a privilege that Barbatos gives to lord Diavolo and Mc exclusively,” Lucifer looks at the two squabbling and wrestling in the distance.

Minutes passed and Barbatos returned with a scruffed up Mc dragging behind him. “Excuse my outburst,” he bows. “Mc!” Mammon cries as Belphegor snickers. “Y-you didn’t need to go so hard on Mc, Barbatos.” Diavolo smiles.

“You are not exempt from punishment, young lord.” Barbatos’ smile sent chills down Diavolo’s spine. “O-of course…” Barbatos sighed and kissed Mc’s head before handing them off to Lucifer.

This took too long oml, the ending went off the rails 😭

#obey me #obey me drabble #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me luke #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me x mc #obey me glass event

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legitalicat · 4 months

Text

Out of Time

Chapter 4 - "Eldest Son to Eldest Daughter"

an: I am so glad people are enjoying this story! I've been playing with this concept for nearly a year now. I hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! I want to go ahead and put this out there. I have borderline personality disorder and quite a few other mental illnesses, so all of that influences relationships in my life, which is reflected a lot in this story. Also this is not canon Aegon. This is a version of Aegon that lives permanently in my head.

If you love this header go check out zaldritzosrose for more amazing work! She is tagged on the series masterlist and on my welcome post!

Find the series Master list here!

Summary: Being the eldest child of the Queen or King is a weight many did not understand. It is a weight that dictates her every choice, ruling her heart and mind. Aegon, understanding the feeling, gives her the gift of a connection she could not have with another person.

TW: Very blatant mental health struggles, Substance Use (I added 🍃 into this world cause it not being in there is unrealistic), talks of alcoholism, religious talk, mentions of injury, self image issues, bad parents, divorced parents, moon tea, Aegon is so in love with reader it makes me ache

Relationships: Aegon Targaryen ii x Velaryon!Reader, past Aegon Targaryen ii x Helaena Targaryen

Word count: 3.7k

When I woke up this morning, only to find Jace gone from my bed and a cup of moon tea on the table, all I wanted was to hide away from the world. But there was more to my life than just Jace and Aemond. I had others who loved me, who had missed me this entire time. With that in mind, I dressed for the day in a simple lilac colored dress, drank the tea in one quick gulp, and had Ser Erryk escort me to Helaena’s chambers.

Her and Aegon’s children were with him for the morning. With both of them still happily in the Red Keep, I suppose it made sharing their children’s time easier. Though I don’t believe there has been a situation such as this ever. Most marriages that ended in annulment happened because there weren’t children from my understanding. Though until now I had not known of anyone who had gotten an annulment.

“How did my mother grant the end of your marriage?” I couldn’t help but ask Helaena. We were working on our cross stitching together. It was an activity that soothed her and I was all the happier to make sure she was calm. “Doesn’t the Faith typically have to be in agreement? And I mean, you two had three children together, wouldn’t they just deny it?”

Helaena chuckled. “I often times forget how little you and your brothers paid mind to the teachings of the Seven,” she said to me.

Fair enough, I suppose. Technically speaking, we are followers of the Seven. Yet anyone with eyes knew that we only did it because we kind of had to. I don’t believe Mother or Laenor had any vested interest in their teachings. They certainly never passed anything on to us outside of the bare minimum. I know my father’s family believed in the Seven, but since he was never allowed to claim us, he had no right to teach us his beliefs. In truth I only knew anything about them from Alicent.

“So explain it to me as though I’m five,” I said, shrugging a bit.

“It is unholy to hold one in a marriage against their will. Aegon and I were so young when we were married, and it was done under the misguided notion that your mother and family may seek to squash any competition for the Throne, so it was not difficult to make a case for it to be an unlawful marriage. Though I do feel that Rhaenyra may have reminded the Septon that he can be and would be a delicious snack for Syrax should he not see reason,” she told me. The smile that played at her lips as she thought of it was enough to make me smile.

“And what is it you wish to do now?” I asked her.

“I am perfectly content to live my life here. I love my family, I love my home. Though I do wish my mother had bothered to ever understand me,” she explained.

My smile fell from my lips. Time changed many things but Helaena’s distance from Alicent didn’t seem to be one. It was unfortunate, truly, as Helaena was wonderful. She may be more into bugs than most people, she may have her dreams and episodes, but she was not mad. In fact when actually making an effort to know her, one could find she was the opposite.

I had always wished I could see the world Helaena does. The world that I live in is dark and dreary, a place where one loses any semblance of a father before they even understand how great they are. It is a place where most everyone prefers men over women, despite the women being capable and strong in their own right. The world I live in? It is not a place built for Helaena.

Yet the one she lives in? People are praised for what they have done. There is no consideration other than who truly is right and just. Even in the darkest moments in which her mother tried to keep her from being who she is, my mother always gave safe passage to her sweet sister. Helaena paid no mind to those who were insignificant unless they hurt her family or her bugs.

It Is not to say she is naïve. In fact, I would think she sees more truth than any of us. But being the third child, born after an eldest daughter and eldest son, is very different than being the eldest. She did not have to fight to prove she was worthy like Mother did. And she does not have to step away because she knows she would not be accepted over her brother as I do…

I was born approximately two hours before Jacaerys. A long time between twins as I’ve been told, but enough time there was no doubt about who came first. Truthfully to my mother I don’t think it mattered which of us was born before the other. We are twins and therefore she always gave us the choice.

She explained to me that her father had named her heir before he had any other living children and never looked back. Once Aegon was born, most expected Viserys to change his mind. But he remained steadfast in his decision, never caring if Mother still wanted it. To this day I don’t know if she did. As such, she wanted to make sure we always had a choice.

“You’re doing it again,” Helaena said softly.

When I looked to her, she nodded her head to my hands. I had been so completely lost in thought that I didn’t notice I had repeatedly pricked my fingers with the needle I was using. Blood seeped through the fabric in several dots scattered around.

“Sorry,” I muttered before sitting the cross stitch down. Standing, I walked over to the bowl of water that was kept for washing her hands and dunked my fingers in it a few times.

“Our mothers are planning a feast to celebrate your return,” she told me as I turned back around. “I think it will happen week’s end.”

Naturally. It seemed they always found a reason to celebrate me. On my name day, it was always me who got doted on. Jace got put in the shadows, not that he seemed to mind much though. When I claimed Vhaela, only a few weeks before I disappeared, it was a much brighter occasion than Aemond claiming Vhagar. When I returned to King’s Landing, it overshadowed the tourney being held for Aegon to celebrate his own name day.

It was never my Intention, truly. Those around me just deemed me important. I had never wanted to be the center of attention. All I wanted was to do right by my family. Never have I sought out great fortune or the throne for myself, though technically it should be mine by birth order. All I craved was love.

“Are you happy?” I asked her, trying to change the subject.

“Yes. Aegon is a wonderful father, but he could never love me. And I do not love him,” she told me.

Before I was given the chance to respond, the chamber doors opened. Helaena’s children ran to her. The twins, Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, were nearing twelve at this point. They looked it, too. If you were to ask me, Jaehaera looked like Alicent but with the typical Targaryen silver hair and violet eyes. Jaehaerys and Maelor, who was nearing eight, were carbon copies of Helaena. They had the same curl to their hair as she did, their noses equally as small and rounded.

As the three children excitedly talked about their morning, I quietly excused myself from the room. While she would never say anything, there was not a place for me with Helaena and her children by myself. Those kids don’t remember me, though I remember Helaena’s every letter describing them in their early years. For both pregnancies, there was not a movement they made inside her that did not warrant a letter to me. But that was then.

In the corridor, Aegon stood and spoke with Ser Erryk. Erryk had a twin too, named Arryk. From what I remembered, Arryk and Aegon were quite close, the former taking on the watching over of the latter once Aegon hit puberty.

“Beautiful kids,” I said to him, offering a small smile. When he looked to me and smiled, I couldn’t help but blush a deep red.

“Thankfully they take more after Helaena,” he said to me. He stepped closer to me, extending a hand to rest under my chin. I swallowed hard as he tilted my face around in the light. “You should perhaps be more careful.”

“I shall keep that in mind,” I said, unable to hide my chuckle.

“Where are you headed to? I could join you,” he suggested as he offered his arm to me to take, dropping his hand from my chin.

“I was just going to head back to my room. Truly, Aegon, there is no need to bother yourself,” I told him.

“My darling, there is never a bother when it comes to you.” His voice was light and airy, as though the words he spoke were just the most casual thing in the world. But there was a firmness to them that I truly believe only he could accomplish.

It wasn’t so much a demand. He was not like Aemond, demanding and sure of himself. He was not like Jace, either, in being soft and guiding always. Aegon was something entirely different.

He had always seemed arrogant. He was the first born son so it was natural that he grew into believing he deserved everything he wanted. But only when you spoke to him when everything else was quiet did you ever get the truth.

He had never been much more than a scared little boy. There were frequent talks of what he feared would happen when Viserys had died. He had always been scared his mother would try to force him to take the Throne. When he was betrothed to Helaena, he was scared he wouldn’t be good enough for her. He was scared that I would grow to hate him, completely ignoring that I could never hate him.

The closeness I shared with Aegon was something that bordered on secretive. While it wasn’t that we felt the need to hide, as there truly was never anything to hide, it was what made him comfortable. He would come to me late at night when he could not sleep. I think it is when he felt safest. Even when we were children he preferred the night.

It was in the night that he saw beauty in his life. He didn’t struggle as much then to resist drinking, which had always seemed backwards to me but he swore it. The pressures that were placed upon him from Otto and Alicent didn’t exist at night. The person he truly is was enough for the shadows of darkness.

Perhaps it is my own cockiness but I like to think I see a side to him that others don’t. When we were alone I got to hear him sing. I don’t think anyone else knew he liked to sing let alone how good he was at it. The first time he ever sang me a song that he had picked up in a tavern, tears sprang to my eyes. And when he isn’t drunk, he is quite smart. He knows politics even better than Aemond. He knows how to get people to like him and trust him, a rare commodity in this world.

And if Helaena says he is a wonderful father, I have no doubt about it. I remember him writing to me the first time Helaena was pregnant. He was so happy and excited, determined to be better to his children than Viserys ever had been to him. When I had come back to King’s Landing, while he still struggled with the drink, he was so devoted to making sure they didn’t see it.

“I would be glad to have you along,” I said, smiling at him. Though I didn’t take his arm. He merely nodded at me and followed me, allowing me to set the pace in which we walked.

As we walked, we walked in silence. Our footsteps echoed off the stone walls, the small ching and squeak of Ser Erryk’s armor followed behind us. I was perfectly comfortable.

We got to my room in just a few minutes as it wasn’t far from Helaena’s. Ser Erryk took his place beside my door. I gave him a small smile and nod before leading Aegon into my room.

He took a seat in a chair in front of the fireplace. He seemed like maybe he ran cold, always choosing to sit close to fires or walking around wrapped in a blanket. I was like that too, of course, much to the hatred of Jace when we shared a room still.

“I am happy to see you home, have you need of anything?” he asked me when I sat in the chair next to his.

“I merely wish there was something I could take for the pain that wasn’t milk of the poppy. The way it muddled your father’s mind has made me certain I will never use it,” I told him simply.

He nodded softly and reached his right hand up his left sleeve. “In case you have not been told, I want you to know I am sober now. Have not had a sip of wine since the night you disappeared,” he told me.

“Aeg, that’s amazing. I am so proud of you,” I said as my heart felt like it was going to burst.

Truly I don’t think he had ever stood a chance against being a drunkard. Mother told me a long time ago how Viserys was giving Aegon wine by his second nameday. I never could understand why Alicent was so okay with that, especially because for my entire life she had yelled at him for being drunk. Like the night Aemond lost his eye, Aegon got blamed for not protecting him because even at thirteen he went and got so drunk he passed out on the steps. How on earth did she go from so passively allowing him to drink when he was a baby to being so vile about his problem?

He looked at me, his face saddened for a split second before he grinned and pulled out a pouch. “The Grand Maester told me to use this. It’s hemp. Mostly used for creating things, building and whatnot. But someone at the Citadel found if you consume it, it gives you what they call a high. But it is gentler on the health than being drunk. I’m not sure the process but they cook it into butter and then can bake it into things.”

He opened the pouch and pulled out a biscuit the size of his palm. He split it in two and offered me half. It didn’t look abnormal or smell any different. The biscuit looked very appetizing though.

“Do I just eat it?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. But start slow. Too much at once and you’ll be completely incapacitated. Just a small bit should help your anguish, both physically and mentally,” he explained. “It will not be immediate like milk of the poppy. But it will be effective.”

Cautiously, I took a bite, eating on a quarter of my half. This was something I would never have done on my own. Yet Aegon had never truly steered me wrong, always seeming to have my best interests at heart.

After he took his own bite, eating a little more than I did, a silence fell between us as he just watched the flames. Aegon sometimes seemed like he wished that the world would open and swallow him whole. The way he would avoid looking at me, or anyone for that matter, spoke volumes about how uncomfortable he was even if nobody else realized it.

I remember once he told me that if he didn’t look at people he could convince himself they weren’t looking at him. When I tried to point out that wasn’t right he just put his hand over my mouth so that I couldn’t. It was that moment I realized how alike he and I are.

I escaped the duties of being Mother’s eldest child by pretending I wasn’t. Stepping aside so that Jace could be heir and acting as though I was okay with it was the biggest way I accomplished this. If I were honest, I wanted to be Queen, not Queen Consort. Hiding that fact from everyone, including my twin, repeatedly affirming his place as the next King essentially robbed me of a piece of my identity and forced me into a new one. One in which I was meant to stand by his side and have his children.

Aegon liked to hide from being the eldest son by pretending he didn’t exist. He didn’t just refuse those duties. He simply treated them as though they weren’t real. He used to disappear rather frequently for a few days at a time, only to be found in a tavern or a brothel and dragged back to the Keep. He had always been so drunk he never remembered his time there.

“I missed you,” he said quietly. “I know you never felt for me the way you did Jacaerys, or even Aemond. But you are probably the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

He didn’t look at me when he said it which made me wonder why he did. It seemed silly to me how badly I wanted him to look at me. My entire life I felt like I had been begging Aegon to look at me.

He was right, I never felt for him the way I did Jace or Aemond. But he was the first person that ever made me blush. He was the first person who I considered marrying for any reason. He was my first crush and I think that for a lot of people that was a pretty sacred role.

I wanted a dragon so badly because of his relationship to his own dragon, Sunfyre. I don’t remember exactly when they came together, only that Aegon claimed Sunfyre just as I claimed Vhaela. And they were a sight to see together, having potentially the strongest bond of any dragon and rider. I swear Aegon could be hundreds of leagues from Sunfyre, merely think of needing him, and Sunfyre would go there without a second thought.

There was also the fact that they were very beautiful together. Sunfyre was perhaps the most beautiful dragon to ever exist. His scales were a dazzling, glittering gold while his belly and wing membranes for a soft pink. When he stood tall, he looked like a perfect golden statue.

Aegon was the epitome of Targaryen beauty. His silver blonde hair was not as long as Aemond’s, but was chin length and began curling near the end. He had the classic Valyrian lilac eyes that sparkled in the firelight. He had a square jawline and lips fuller than Aemond’s. He was about five inches taller than me, and therefore Jace since he was my height, at about five foot ten, and just two inches shorter than Aemond.

He truly was a beautiful mixture of Jace and Aemond. His eyes, hair, and eyes were soft in such a way they drew me in. Yet his jawline was sharp like he was chiseled in stone. One could argue all the gods in the universe came together to create the perfect man in him.

I became very aware I was staring at his lips. My cheeks became hot as the blood rushed to them. He turned to look at me, a small goofy smile on his face when he saw me looking. It caused my cheeks to become even hotter.

“You’ve been staring for quite a while, how are you feeling?” he asked me.

“Fine,” I said as I shrugged.

My feet didn’t quite feel right though. Like they didn’t really exist but they do exist. He chuckled at something, I’m guessing my face, and I could feel a giggle bubbling up in my chest.

“Oh you feel it,” he told me, grinning.

“You’re pretty,” I whispered, leaning towards him. “Have I ever told you that?”

“Pretty?” he asked.

Slowly, I nodded. He was pretty. But not the way Mother or Helaena was pretty in an elegant and sophisticated way. He was the type of pretty like fire. One that was dangerous and wild, where I couldn’t quite guarantee I would make it out alive.

“You’re pretty, too,” he told me quietly.

I think he was the only one to ever call me pretty. Aemond called me beautiful and Jace called me perfect, yet never pretty. Except the times they called me pretty during sex, that is. Being pretty in the mundane was something special to me. It was like I was a flower or even a star.

He reached out and took my hand. We sat in silence for a while. There was no way I could tell how long we sat there, just looking at each other while saying nothing. It felt nice in a way I could not explain.

“My darling pretty girl,” he whispered, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. “How is your pain?”

“Better, thank you, Aegon,” I whispered.

My heart was light in my chest. It fluttered rapidly, my cheeks heating up once again. He was looking at me like I was precious to him.

He stood from the chair, moving to stand in front of me. The flutters turned to a steady pounding. It was beating in my ears loudly. Aegon didn’t say anything before he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose, something that he had done when we were kids.

“I will ask the Maesters to prepare you the same biscuits. I do not like to think of you in pain,” he whispered to me. “And it may help if your thoughts get to be too much.”

Without saying another word, he took his leave. He walked out of the room, leaving me to sit alone with only my thoughts of him.

#dividers by benkeibear #aegon targaryen ii #aegon targaryen x reader #helaena targaryen #mental illness in fiction #out of time

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loversj0y · 10 months

Note

omg congratulations on 200!!!! you deserve it :) it would be lovely if you could do so it goes or i think he knows for the event!!! once again so happy for you❣️

i think he knows

event masterlist

paring: wilbur soot x gn! barista reader

tws: alcohol, slightly suggestive (taylor was on something when she wrote this okay?) notes: this is my first time writing any sort of coffee shop au so it was very fun!

word count: 977

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @core-queen / @zooone / @lillylvjy / @ghostsacrosslndnfields / @melunnek

Crushes were weird. You used to absolutely hate having them, especially when they came quickly. But for whatever reason, this cafe stranger changed that.

He showed up every day around 2pm and always ordered the same thing. He always chatted with you as well, especially given that 2pm came post-lunch rush so the place was mostly empty. You learned about him quickly. His name was Wilbur, and he worked in editing out of an office around the corner. He played guitar in a band, and he really like geography.. He was hot, as well, tall and with slightly curly brown hair that you wanted to know desperately what it felt like to run your hands through his hair. Not to mention, he had a fantastic fashion sense (for the most part) which just added to your attraction.

When he showed up that day, you felt your heartbeat quicken, and it felt euphoric. He flashed you a grin, and you grinned right back at him, having long done away with any notions of being subtle.

You leaned up against the counter, “Hey, Wilbur,” you already began punching in his order, “How’s today?”

Wilbur chuckled, leaning his arms on the counter, and you were shameless in the way you peered at his forearms. “Today’s been good. Was the lunch rush bad?”

“Other than the business guy whose coffee I almost spit in, not bad.”

“Classy,” he joked, paying for his drink with a smile, “You should’ve. He probably deserved it.”

“I wouldn’t give him the privilege of tasting my spit,” you shrugged, smirking a bit.

Before he could respond, you turned to make his drink. At this point, your flirting was entirely obvious. And, maybe it was the crush making you feel seventeen again, but God you just had to find some way to really get through to him. So what if it was a bit juvenile. Your phone number written across a cardboard drink holder was a strong way to get the message across. He took his drink, and he gave a smile at the number written there. He waved goodbye on his way out, and it wasn’t long before he texted you, making quick plans to meet for a small date not far from here for the next day.

It was nice, a small and cozy pizza place. You spent a lot of time getting ready, wanting to look really nice. You drove as well, not wanting to risk being late. You got there five minutes early, around 7:25pm. He was already there, sitting in a booth and sipping on a beer. Even from afar, he looked amazing. He was in a black button up with black pants and a white and blue racer jacket on top. You watched as he lifted his glass, taking a sip of his beer, and you felt your face heat up as you walked up.

He placed the glass down once he saw you, grinning softly and standing.

“Hey, you made it.” He grinned, hugging you quickly.

You hugged him back with a smile, “Of course I did. Wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

He pulled away, looking over you quickly, “You look fantastic. Weird seeing you in something other than an apron for once,” he joked.

“Hey, that apron must be pretty flattering if you actually texted me.”

He flushed a bit, “I guess that’s true. I can’t say it isn’t flattering.”

You grinned, both of you sitting down. There was something so natural about being around Wilbur. Despite the ever-present stuttering of your heart, there was something so comfortable about being around Wilbur. It felt like making yourself at home, conversations rolling easily, as if you were old friends. You both ordered food and carried on talking, and the date felt as natural as breathing.

The best thing was how easily he made you laugh. His storytelling ability alone allowed small details to become central conversations, and his jokes always made laughter bubble up in your chest. Even better was his smile. When he saw you laugh at his jokes, he always had a wide grin, his smile lyrical and beautiful. You’d never wanted anything more. And he absolutely knew.

As he spoke, you could feel yourself getting lost in thoughts of a future with him. You wanted to know more about him, even with everything he’d already told you. You wanted to spend time with him and see the darker parts of him. You needed to actually be properly together for that to actually happen, but you wouldn’t let yourself get caught up in the details.

“You’re zoning out on me,” he chuckled, taking a sip from his drink.

“Only a little,” you smiled.

“Care to share?”

“Can’t say I do,” you smirked softly, but you had the sense he didn’t even need the clarity to know what was going on in your head, “What do you say we get out on here?”

He smiled, nodding, “Alright. I walked here, so,”

“Oh, it’s alright. I can drive.” You hummed, and he smiled, nodding and standing. You took his hand, walking him out to your car and getting in quickly.

If you were worried about your own boldness, he didn’t let you feel it for a moment as once you’d both settled into the car, he lightly set a hand on your thigh.

You shivered a bit under the contact, looking over at him.

“So,” he started, “Where are we going to go?”

You smiled, “I have a few ideas.”

“Oh? I think I know.”

You smirked, whispering, “Where are we going to go?”

“Yours or mine?”

“Yours.” You hummed, and he nodded, giving you his address quickly.

You started driving, and as much as you knew that you wanted him, you knew even more that you didn’t have to tell him. You had a feeling he already knew.

#mar's 200 follower event #mar writes #wilbur soot x reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur

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nahoney22 · 1 year

Text

The Right Guy***

Crosshair X F!Reader X Tech

word count: 5k

With two guys fawning over you, you’re left in the difficult position of picking the right one for you. But, something tells you that you always knew who.

warnings: NSFW so 18+ only. Female reader, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, mutual pining. Mentions of jealousy, brother rivalry, love triangle trope (no clonecest), Tech is rejected, slight bitterness, embarrassing moment, fluff but angst, swearing, aftercare, not proofread. This is primarily a Crosshair centred fic.

authors note: request for my incredible friend @raevulsix - love u so much and everything you do. Enjoy. ♥️

Never in a million lifetimes would you fathom the notion of two people fighting for your affections. Yet, as you inadvertently eavesdropped on Crosshair and Tech engaging in a heated exchange one night within the cockpit of the Marauder, you realised the gravity of the predicament rather quickly.

Initially, a glimmer of satisfaction twinkled within you. It was almost as if you were exalted, relishing the fact that two men who were more or less polar opposites were locked in a contentious rivalry over you.

However, that moment of self-smugness swiftly vanished, replaced by a profound sense of dread as you comprehended the complete unintended consequences of your actions. To the best of your knowledge, you had not deliberately misled anyone. You had maintained a civil and friendly demeanor towards all the Batchers, but evidently, certain emotional attachments had formed with two of them.

Rather than revealing yourself upon hearing their argument, you stealthily retreated to your bunk, resolute in addressing the situation in the morning. However, the dawn couldn't arrive quick enough. You lay awake, restlessly tossing and turning for hours on end, fixating your gaze upon Crosshair's adjacent bunk and Tech's elevated one directly above yours.

“This is so stupid.” You grumbled to yourself in a huff, not meaning to speak aloud which is why you let out a small shriek when a voice replied.

“And what would that be?” You sat up abruptly, narrowly missing hitting your head off the bunk above and stare over at Echo’s form at the end of your bed.

“Crap, sorry Echo. Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head dismissively, “dumb and dumber however…” his voice trailed off, hinting that he was well aware of the cause behind your restless state.

You sank back into your bedding, rubbing your hands wearily over your face. "Echo, I honestly had no idea any of this would happen," you lamented, frustration seeping through your voice.

Echo chuckled lightly as he settled himself at the end of your bed. "It ain't your fault. Those two have had their sights set on you for quite some time."

A warmth spread within you at his words. "Really?" you couldn't help but inquire, finding no reason for Echo to lie to you.

Despite the tumultuous nature of two brothers currently turning against each other in the cockpit, again comes a self-centered thought as part of you couldn't help but revel in the fact that one of them, in particular, held feelings for you.

He had captured your attention from the very beginning, but you knew it was best to remain silent about your attraction. After all, you were simply stationed as their medic, and forming attachments was frowned upon and of course, complicated. However, there was something undeniably magnetic about him.

"Yes, really," Echo affirmed, drawing you out of your thoughts. Both of you trained your eyes on the cockpit door as it suddenly hissed open, revealing Crosshair stealthily making his way to the opposite end of the ship. Before disappearing from sight, he cast you a - dare you say - meaningful glance. You exhaled deeply, relieved that he hadn't overheard your conversation. Turning back to Echo, you posed the question that weighed heavily on your mind, "What should I do?"

Echo appeared equally perplexed, finding himself at a loss for an answer. While he had witnessed the occasional squabble over girls during his time with the 501st, this situation seemed to transcend just mere disagreements over a girl at 79’s.

"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of uncertainty coloring his words. "Perhaps you should talk to both of them. Express your feelings about the situation and make it clear that you want no part in their rivalry."

Observing a flicker of apprehension in your eyes, Echo's own widened slightly. "Unless... Do you feel differently?"

Preferring not to disclose which of the two had captured your feelings, lest rumors being spread, you thanked Echo for the chat. Settling back into your bedding, you willed your weary body to succumb to sleep, hoping that dreams would offer respite from this mess.

»»————-　🌙 　————-««

As the morning arrived, you awoke to Hunter gently shaking your shoulder, urging you to prepare for the upcoming mission. However, all movement ceased as the familiar sounds of another altercation erupted from the cockpit.

Furrowing your brow, you composed yourself and secured your hair tightly in place before cautiously approaching the scene.

"I'm simply stating that she would be better off accompanying me on this mission. I'll require her assistance,"

“Oh yeah? And why is that, Tech?” Crosshair snarled at his brother, who remained engrossed in his datapad, visibly annoyed by his younger sibling's persistent questioning and obvious jealousy.

"There are numerous tasks for which she is highly capable. Sending her with you to scout the area is a futile strategy and a waste of her abilities," Tech replied matter-of-factly. Both of them were aware of your presence, yet neither bothered to turn and acknowledge you.

You sidled up beside Wrecker, whispering up to him, "What's happening?" His response came in the form of a chuckle.

"They're fighting over ya."

Shifting uncomfortably, you observed the ongoing bickering about who should be your partner. "Again?" you muttered to yourself more than to Wrecker.

Eventually, you reached your limit and stepped in between the warring brothers. "Can you two please speak to me as if I'm actually here?" you asserted, your gaze shifting between them. Their mouths snapped shut as you glared at each of them with equal intensity. "And to answer your questions, I'll be partnering with Hunter," you huffed and walked away before either of them could utter a word.

"Nice one," Crosshair grumbled to his goggled brother, who merely sighed and shook his head.

"I believe she's irritated with both of us. It also hasn't escaped my notice that she overheard our argument last night as she was going to bed," Tech mumbled, adjusting his goggles on his nose before ensuring he had all the necessary equipment before the departure.

Crosshairs frown remained etched on his face as he watched you storm off, accompanied by the rest of the team. His heart pounded in his chest, a foreign sensation that revealed his nerves—a feeling he was unfamiliar with. He understood that the odds of winning your affection were slim, especially with Tech as his rival. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if you wanted nothing to do with either of them.

»»————-　🌙 　————-««

"You want to talk about it?" Hunter's voice broke through your thoughts as you scouted ahead together, lost in your own world. His words resonated, not requiring his enhanced senses to detect the tension in the air.

"There's not much to say," you grunted, pushing through some bushes. "Other than the fact that things are incredibly awkward for me."

Hunter chuckled, parting some foliage and helping you through. "Why don't you just tell both of them that you're not interested? Simple."

If only it were that easy.

Hunter swiftly picked up on your sudden silence.

He stopped and looked at you, unscrewing the canteen attached to his hip and passing it to you. "Unless you feel differently?"

"Funny," you replied, mouthing him a quick thanks as you took a drink. "Echo said the same thing."

"So, you have feelings for them?" Hunter's surprise was evident, yet not entirely unexpected. "Don't you think it's best to tell Crosshair and Tech that?”

You sighed, "Of course I like both of them," you rolled your eyes, aware that the time had come to address your true feelings. "But... I like Crosshair more, okay?"

Hunter's reaction was a mix of surprise and understanding. "Why don’t you let him know?”

“But what about Tech? How do I tell him I prefer his brother?” You groaned, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you, more stressful than the war itself.

Hunter hums thoughtfully, attaching his canteen back to his hip as you both proceeded ahead, “Tech would not take it to heart. He may be a little bitter but not as much as Crosshair would be.”

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better," you muttered miserably.

As you both crouched down, surveying the settlement you were tasked to infiltrate, it became clear that it was too early to approach without detection. Deciding to wait it out until nightfall, Hunter informed the rest of the team via comms to exercise the plan.

"So," Hunter began, getting comfortable on the ground and removing his helmet, placing it aside. "Why Crosshair?"

Blushing, you found it difficult to put your feelings into words. You shrugged nonchalantly. "Are you really asking me this?"

“Yeah,” he smirks, “it’s kind of interesting that out of any of us, you settle on the one who doesn’t really speak.”

You chuckled and nodded, understanding his point. "He's just... different. In a good way," you said simply, not wanting to delve into the depth of your emotions and explain why you believed he was the most remarkable person you knew.

“Sure he doesn’t talk much and he’s a stubborn git, but I just like him, y'know? He’s always been nice to me and I just feel a type of way around him.”

“I’m aware,” Hunter replies coyly which only adds a heat to your blush. Of course he knew. He probably heard the way your heart rattled against your rib cage when Crosshair walks on by.

You're tugging at the grass on the ground, almost like a small child when she’s feeling bashful about her feelings. "And he's quite attractive," you whispered quietly, more to yourself than to Hunter, but he heard and stifled a laugh.

"I'm sure he'd love to hear that," Hunter chuckled, playing with his knife idly during the wait.

"What, and boost his ego? I don't think so," you replied, joining in the laughter. However, your amusement quickly faded when a snapped twig caught your attention. Mortification washed over you as you looked up to find none other than the subject of your conversation leaning confidently against a tree.

"You can't boost my ego about something I already know," Crosshair smirked from behind his helmet, his voice modulated, further unsettling your already unsteady heartbeat.

Hunter looks between the two of you, his frown deepening as he scolds his comrade, "And why aren't you at your post?"

Crosshair pushes himself off the tree and strides toward you, standing in front of you and causing you to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He then crouches down, intensifying the intimacy of the moment. "Well, Sarge, I would've stayed if I hadn't overheard a certain someone confess their feelings for me."

Your brows furrow, attempting to suppress the sinking feeling of being overheard. "How did you hear?" Hunter inquiries on your behalf, relieving you from the need to find words that seem to escape you.

Crosshair nods towards his wrist, directing your gaze to his device. Horror washes over you as your eyes widen. "Hunter! You left your comm on?" You slap at his wrist, disconnecting the transmission, and feel a sense of despair at the turn of events. If Crosshair heard, then... Oh no. Tech.

"So, you have feelings for me?" His helmet hissed as he removed it, while Hunter discreetly walked off, leaving you two alone to have a brief conversation and is likely hitting his head against the tree at his stupid mistake.

You fidget with your fingers, feeling a mix of nervousness. "I really didn't want you to find out this way... I'm sorry."

He chuckles, a dark and captivating sound that sets your heart ablaze. Must he be so enchanting while you're in the midst of embarrassment? "Do you not think I feel the same about how you found out about me liking you? Arguing with Tech?"

"I suppose not," you respond, averting your gaze, finding his intense stare too much to handle. But then his hand gently brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. We don't need to hide it," he whispers, his face now just inches away from yours.

Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, embracing his closeness and the warmth of his minty breath. "No," you sigh shakily, filled with eagerness at the prospect of Crosshair possibly, finally, kissing you, "I suppose we don't."

He inches even closer, his nose grazing against yours as his breath intertwines with yours. His composure remains steady, displaying his calmness amidst your own trembling knees. Thank goodness you're seated.

His lips ghost over yours, but suddenly, a pang of realization hits you. "Wait, no." You pull back, meeting his concerned gaze.

"What's wrong?" he asks, a tinge of nervousness evident in his expression at your sudden rejection.

"I... I should really talk to Tech first. I owe him that much," you explain, grappling with the weight of your decision. It doesn't feel right to fully embrace Crosshair when another man is vying for your affections. You want to handle this situation with honesty and fairness. "I need to talk to Tech before moving forward."

Crosshair observes you and absorbs your words. "You know, that's one of the many things I like about you, kitten," he compliments, his finger gently grazing your chin. "Always so selfless."

You mentally moan at his touch, the subtle gesture melting your resolve. However, you know you must focus on speaking with Tech and hope that he doesn't resent you. It doesn't feel right to leap into a relationship with Crosshair while another man's emotions are still at stake. "Thank you," you rasp, watching as he stands and readjusts his helmet on his head.

"When you're ready, you know where to find me, princess.”

»»————-　🌙 　————-««

"Tech, can I talk to you?" you ask, trying to gauge his reaction. He doesn't immediately look up, engrossed in his work. It's hard to tell whether he's avoiding eye contact with you or simply immersed in the task at hand.

"Is this in regard to what was said over the transmission?" he replies, still not lifting his head to meet your gaze. Your stomach swirls in guilt as there was a mix of disappointment in his tone. Though, there was also a heavy sign of acceptance too.

You’re somewhat relieved to find that Tech is willing to have a conversation with you, despite the tension that had hung in the air between all of you since the awkward revelation. He remains focused on his task under the control panel as you approach him.

"Yeah, listen, I'm sorry that you found out this way. I wanted to tell you to your face, but-"

"There is no need for the apology," he interrupts, finally sitting up and wiping his hands against his legs. He looks up at you, holding a spanner in his hand. "I am not entitled to receive an apology when it is I who should be saying sorry."

You tilt your head in confusion. "What for?"

He starts twirling the tool around in his hand, speaking calmly. "Well, Crosshair and I arguing about our feelings for you is not how I would have wanted you to find out about my own unexplainable feelings for you. Although you prefer Crosshair, and I fail to understand why he has captured your affections more,” he trails off with a subtle eye roll but notices the look on your face.

“I... I am simply happy if you are happy. I won't be distant from you, aside from keeping my feelings in check. You are still, and always will be, my friend."

You decide not to delve into the reasons why you like Crosshair, as Tech is already aware of them. Instead, you express your gratitude. "I appreciate your kindness and understanding. You're a good man, Tech."

He responds with a touch of modesty, twirling the spanner in his hand. "That is subjective, depending on the person... but thank you nonetheless. I hope Crosshair treats you the way you deserve to be treated." A small hint of a smile graces his face, and thankfully, you detect no signs of hatred or bitterness, aside from his genuine confusion about your preference for Crosshair.

You stay and chat for a while, engaging in casual small talk that eases the tension between you. It feels good to have a normal conversation with Tech, reaffirming the friendship that underlies everything. As for Crosshair, you held back for a while.

Just because you cleared the air with Tech doesn't mean you’re comfortable enough to jump into Crosshairs arms straight away. So with a few flirtatious gazes between the two of you, it isn’t until a week or two (you can never tell when you’re away doing missions) when the two of you get a chance to talk. Alone.

The Marauder is quiet, the others having left to do something or other when you decide to stay behind. It had been a hectic few days and even though there was still a small amount of tension left between Crosshair and Tech, overall it was better than before.

As you sat on the steps of the Marauder, gazing up at the scattered stars, a familiar noise caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Crosshair emerging from the distance, his talon frame unmistakable. The thrill of knowing he had come back just to see you coursed through your veins, but a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, wondering if there was something more serious driving his return.

"You're back early," you commented, your voice steady as you tried to maintain a cool demeanor.

"Problem?" he replied, stopping at the foot of the steps, a playful smirk gracing his features as he towered over you once again.

"Not at all," you smirked back, though you couldn't help but hold your arms over your chest, attempting to conceal the unsteady rhythm of your heartbeat. "But why are you back?"

His gaze locked onto yours, studying you intently as he slid his rifle off his shoulder, letting it thud onto the floor. With a toothpick hanging between his teeth, he plucked it out and held it between his fingers. "I had to see you."

You gulped, feeling your shyness overwhelm you as his presence grew closer. "Oh yeah?" you managed to say, your voice betraying your nerves.

Crosshair chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes as he sensed the mix of excitement and nervousness radiating from you. Flicking the toothpick to the ground, he slowly leaned in, causing you to slide back against the steps as his hands landed on either side of you. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the intensity of your connection.

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice laced with desire and a touch of vulnerability.

Your heart races as Crosshair leans closer, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. The space between you feels charged with anticipation, and you find yourself becoming acutely aware of every breath and every beat of your heart.

You maintain eye contact with him, a mixture of curiosity and desire in your gaze. The tension between you both is insane, and you can't help but feel a surge of excitement deep within you. After all, you felt like you had been waiting for this moment forever.

His voice, deep and velvety, sends shivers down your spine as he continues, his words laced with a hint of playfulness. "I couldn't resist the thought of seeing you again."

A faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you feel your own nervousness dissipating, replaced by a growing sense of comfort in his presence. "Well, I can't say I'm disappointed to see you either."

Crosshair’s hands, strong and steady, remain planted on either side of you, creating a tantalizing closeness that makes your heart flutter. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, his own breath mingling with yours.

As the air crackles with unspoken desire, you gather the courage to speak. "What really brought you back, Crosshair? Is everything alright?"

His smirk widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Everything's fine, darling. I just couldn't stay away any longer."

The electricity in the air is palpable as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. His pet names he gives you make you weak and excited. Your breath hitches in anticipation, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within you.

But instead of closing the gap, Crosshair surprises you by pausing, his gaze filled with a newfound tenderness. "Do you still want to wait a while?”

You melt at his words, despite his intense demeanour he is effortlessly so soft and courteous of you. You reach up, gently placing a hand on his cheek, your touch warm against his stubbled skin. "I don’t think I can wait any longer. I can’t get you out of my mind."

He leans into your touch, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. Finding none, he lets out a breath he seemed to be holding and closes the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips.

His kiss is soft and chaste, pulling back to see your dazed eyes. “Kitten, do you truly want me?”

“Yes,” you breathe, leaning up to kiss him, “I want you. I need you.”

He kisses back with urgency, your fingers tangled in the short tuffs of his silver locks. The steps you're leaning on are uncomfortable but you didn’t care as long as it was him you were kissing on them. He positions himself between your legs, knee pressing accidentally to your core that emits a soft moan from you.

He smiles against the plumpness of your now slightly bruised lips, “Did that feel good?”

“Uh-huh,” you sigh, not at all embarrassed at obvious signs of your arousal.

He leans down, kissing the softness of your neck as his hands find your waist. “Have you ever been touched down there?” His words are raspy and sent shivers down your spine.

“Not for a while,” you admit, breathless. “You can touch me...”

Crosshair is slick, his hand coming down between both of your legs as he gently cups your pussy through your pants and groans in satisfaction at how he can feel how aroused you got so easily. “You’re dripping already, aren’t you? You’ve been wanting me for the last two weeks haven’t you?”

You cracked a short laugh, “try the last few months.”

Something snaps in Crosshair at your words because in a second your pants are being ripped from your body and tossed caressly onto the ground. He pulls away from the trail of kisses he was planting along your neck and down your body. He lowers himself on the steps and you shudder at the cool night air fanning against your exposed body.

Slowly, he hooks a finger in your panties and pulls them to the side. The look on his face is no better way described than enamored. “Oh kitten, you’ve got a very pretty pussy.” He sighs softly, his breath fanning against your sex that has you chewing hard on your lower lip.

“It’s all for you, Crosshair.” Anticipation lingers in the air until he begins to slowly stroke a digit against your soaked lips, collecting your slick on his fingers that he admires with his trained eyes. You were about to tease him, wondering if this had been a fantasy of his when he curls a finger inside of you.

You gasp at the sensation, Crosshair looking up from between your legs with fire in his eyes. “Is this okay?”

“Y-yes,” you moan, propping yourself on your elbows to watch as his wrist turns and starts to pulse in and out of you simultaneously, “fuck that feels really good.”

He smirks in satisfaction, continuing to dip his finger in your wet heat prodding bluntly at your soft insides that have gone slick and trembling. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you clumsily try to rock back onto his dexterous hand. “Eager, sweetie?”

“Can you blame me? I’ve w-wanted you - this - from the start.” Crosshair smirks, the waver in your beautiful voice causing a small bead of precom to leak from his cock. He crooks his finger, stroking your special spot.

Crosshair's whole body was shivering as you, someone he had adored for so long, cries out in pleasure and drips down his wrist. You’re being perfectly responsive to his touch. “That’s it darling,” he whispered, inserting another finger as he looked up at you, seeing your head tilted back, eyes closed, “I want you to look at me.”

You obeyed his order and looked back down at him, hips rocking vigorously as his fingers stretched you out. You lock eyes, something that felt more intimate than what he was doing to you. Or so you thought until he started to lick your pussy. “Oh Crosshair, baby…” you whine at the sensation of his warm, thick tongue.

He revels in your whimpers, moaning against you himself as he laps up your juices, slick glossing over his chin but he didn’t mind at all. “You’re delicious.”

Reddening at his words, your hand lands on the back of his head, gently guiding him as you eagerly ask for more. He was right, you were eager. His tongue flicks violently over your clit, causing you to curse and moan loudly that echoed around the mountainous region. “That’s it kitten, don’t be shy about expressing your wants.” He chuckles, vibrations tickling you pleasantly.

“M-more, please.” You beg, eyes glossing with tears as your release starts to teeter on the edge, the pleasure being too much.

“As you wish,” Crosshair mutters, curling a finger back inside you all the while lapping at your little pearl. “You’re mine, I’m so glad you’re mine.”

If it wasn’t for the feeling of his tongue assaulting your cunt, you’re certain your legs would be shaking at his words and not his actions. “What if the others see us?” You whisper, caring but also half not caring.

He pulls back, looking up at you with sopping wet lips and a smirk, “Then they’ll witness my princess cumming on my tongue,”

He grips your thighs, burying his face back in between your legs when your orgasm hits. Your climax shook your entire body, stars blurring your vision and not just the ones above you both. “F-Fuck, crosshair!”

He pulls away, teasingly sucking on your clit and retreating with a small pop as he watches you come down from your high, caressing your legs gently before picking up pants and gently sliding them back on you.

Both of your breathing is shallow and rough, especially yours, as you find solace in each other's arms. "Are you okay?" he whispers into your hair, his voice filled with concern and tenderness. He lifts you, settling you into his lap and wrapping his arms securely around you.

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly, feeling a wave of exhaustion washing over you. "That was amazing."

He grows quiet, the weight of the situation hanging in the air. Sometimes after such intimate moments, silence speaks louder than words. Eventually, he breaks the silence. "I know the others will be a little confused about us being together."

"Oh? So there is an 'us' at least," you muse, trying to alleviate some of the tension you sense in him. "But can I ask why you think that?" You approach the topic with sensitivity, aware of the serious undertone in his voice.

He blinks, his gaze shifting from you to the stars above. "As they say, I'm not much of a 'conversationalist'," he begins, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "So they're gonna wonder what exactly it is we have in common."

You nod slowly, understanding his concern. But you're not bothered by others' opinions. All that matters is the connection between the two of you and how you can nurture and build your relationship. "I've always enjoyed our chats, even when you didn't speak to me for the first week."

He huffs in amusement, retrieving a toothpick from a small pouch and placing it between his teeth. "I have to admit, I was shy."

You raise an eyebrow in slight shock. The idea of Crosshair being shy seems almost unimaginable. It's as if he can read your thoughts because he playfully nudges you. "Yeah, yeah, odd right?"

Shaking your head with a smile, you lean in and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "That's quite sweet, knowing you were all shy and cutesy around me."

"Cutesy is not the word I'd use," he rolls his eyes playfully, gnawing on the toothpick, "but I think it shows how willing I am to open up to you. Or how easy I find it, anyway."

Your heart flutters at his words, appreciating his willingness to show moments of vulnerability. You watch him, captivated by his features. Despite their sharpness, there's a softness in his eyes that melts your heart. He's truly beautiful.

"What are you looking at?" he asks, not turning to you but sensing your gaze upon him.

"Can I have a toothpick?" you inquire, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes.

Slowly, he turns to look at you, his gaze lingering on your lips and then returning to your eyes. "You know I don't share."

Yet, he reaches back into his pocket and retrieves a toothpick, handing it to you. "But I suppose I won't mind sharing one or two of these with you from time to time."

The two of you continue sitting under the starlit sky, locked in each other's embrace.

Masterlist

tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @imalovernotahater @the-good-shittt @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions

#crosshair x reader #tech x reader #the bad batch #tbb #nahoney22 writes #the bad batch x reader #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x reader #bad batch

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