#you just go thunk and knock someone out

[luveline]

hiii jade i have a request for u if you’re up for it!! something about spencer and the reader in a new relationship and sort of keeping it from the team but having to tell hotch for an HR report or something and the subsequent kind teasing from him and the team? thank u love u have a wonderful day

thank you, ily I hope you have a great day too! tysm for u request! —you and spencer tell the team you're in a relationship. 1.1k, fem!reader

You decide to take the plunge if only to save Spencer the embarrassment, but things don't go as planned. 

You knock on Hotch's office door primly, invited inside with the same professional politeness. You and Hotch actually get along very well, and though it took some time for him to warm to you, once Hotch is warmed, you can't ever not feel it. 

"L/N," he greets. You're startled to receive his full attention, no notes scratched under his hand or phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder. 

"Hi, Hotch. So, uh, I'm a little nervous, but I have something to tell you." 

He sits back in his chair subtly. "You don't have to be nervous," he says. "Unless you've broken the coffee maker again. I'm afraid I won't be as forgiving twice." 

"It's nothing broken, it's…" 

"Do you want to sit down?" he asks, his joking softened to a familial concern. 

"No, it's not as bad as I'm making it out, I just know how embarrassing this is going to be. I," —you squeeze your hands together as you take the plunge— "asked Spencer to be my boyfriend, this weekend. And he said yes. I know it's not very convenient because we work together, but I checked the government website and it said that we have to tell you, and that you'd actually have to fill out a bunch of forms. I'm sorry." 

Hotch's eyebrows rise a little further with every sentence. "I'm sorry you can't be afforded a little more privacy," he says, standing up. He smiles as he rounds his desk. "Congratulations, Y/N. This is good news, no matter how many forms I have to fill in."

You sigh in relief as he pulls you in for a hug. "Thanks, Hotch. I'm really happy." 

"It's been a long time coming," he murmurs, rubbing your back quickly before he steps back. "Excuse me a second." 

You bring your hands together at your abdomen, startled. "Sure." 

Hotch walks out of his office onto the landing overlooking the bullpen. Spencer, who didn't know you were going to do this, is sitting unawares at his desk, a look of dread flooding his features. 

You frown. 

"Reid, a word," Hotch says.

The rest of the team look up at his scary tone, see you confused in his office, and offer looks of mirrored confusion plus a good helping of sympathy. 

Spencer gives you a reassuring smile as he follows Hotch back into the office. The door closes with a formidable thunk. 

"Y/N's just told me you have news." 

Spencer's hand twitches toward you. 

"Congratulations," Hotch says, dropping the act. 

You're honestly astounded —Hotch can be playful, especially with the team, but not often at work. 

Spencer seems a little dumbfounded too. "Thanks, Hotch." They share a hug. Spencer relaxes into it quickly. "We're sorry about all the forms," he says. 

"Y/N's already apologised. What's another mountain of paperwork?" They step apart. "I'm happy for you both. Really. This job is different when you have someone at home you're doing it for." 

You leave Hotch's office together and in shock, though the floor feels cushioned, weight shelling off of your shoulders with every step. Spencer puts his hand behind your back as you descend the steps back into the bullpen, his fingertips impossibly affectionate. They're only fingertips, how can they be loving? But they are. 

You smile at him dopily, endeared by the blush staining his cheeks. 

"What the hell was that about?" Emily asks in a whisper shout, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. "What did you guys do?" 

Spencer steps closer to your side. Too close; a colleague would never have reason to do so, nor to put the hand behind your back. He doesn't even need to curl his hand over your hip for Emily and Derek to understand, but he does. 

"You're kidding!" Emily cheers. 

"Don't act like you guys didn't know," you say. 

Spencer isn't the shy, awkward boy he was a few years ago, but he also isn't uber confident, and the attention you feel all of a sudden has his grip tightening on your hip. 

"You finally told her?" Derek asks, practically leaping out of his seat. 

You get the first hug. Spencer gets the longer one. You know it means a lot to him that Derek approves, and luckily Derek loves you. "Actually, she asked me," Spencer says, pulling away with a blinding smile. 

"Really?" Emily asks.

"Well, I asked Spence to be official," you amend, accepting her side hug. "He kissed me last week in New York." 

"I knew it!" Emily says in your ear, nearly deafening you. 

"I thought you chickened out?" Derek asks Spencer, jabbing him in the side with two hands. 

Spencer did not chicken out, the opposite. You'd been sitting together at the end of his bed after the case finished, lamenting over your lack of sight-seeing. Spencer had shrugged, said, "We'll come back." 

"For a case?" you'd asked. "That's not likely, right? We barely ever come to New York." 

"We could come without the team. Me and you." 

"You and me?" 

It wasn't an overly charged run up, though there have been moments of tension between you both. This was tame, and sweet, the perfect confession. Spencer as courteous as he always is, cautious with nerves, took your wrist into his hand and looked you in the eye. "If you want to see more of the city, we could come together. There are so many places here I think you'd be interested in." 

"As friends?" you'd asked, knowing it was make or break.

"No… Not as friends."

It wasn't a second longer before you were closing your eyes for a kiss. 

"I told you, man, it's the city of love," Derek says. 

You laugh and move forward to slide your fingers between Spencer's. "That's Paris." 

"You kissed, didn't you?" Derek pretends to dry his eyes. "My babies are all grown up." 

Spencer rubs the back of your hand with his thumb. "We'll be subjected to this for a while." 

"A few weeks, at least," you agree. 

"Wait until JJ and Penelope find out," Emily says with a laugh, her eyes lit with amusement. 

You look up at the side of Spencer's face with a huge beaming smile. You can take any amount of ridicule if it means the space between you is finally nullified. You're sure of it. He turns his head to you, smiling with less zealous joy but the same budding, dizzying affection. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

[vampsywrites]

lawnol a mì te’lan.

synopsis: after assisting lo'ak in meeting up with payakan, neteyam discovers your involvement and confronts both of you. emotions escalate, leading to neteyam lashing out on you and a fight breaking out between him and Lo'ak. however, he would soon come to regret this as a cruel twist of fate takes you away.

word count: 4.8k | author's note: i recommend listening to the songcord when the funeral scene comes up

tags: DEATH, ANGST, FEM! OMATICAYA READER, grieving, blood, gunshot wounds, sibling arguments, lo'ak and neteyam's tense situation, fighting, mentions of punching, funeral, established relationships, flashbacks, war

Syulang - Na'vi; Flower

The smell of incense wafted through the pod, mingling with the pungent scent of medicinal paste and herbs. The room was dimly lit, filled with a hushed tension that seemed to permeate the air. Tucked in the far corner of the room, you were busy patching Lo'ak up, applying a cool creamy paste onto his battered body.

As you began to soothe a bruise on his arm, Neteyam stormed into the room, frustration evident on his face. His steps pounded against the woven floors, sending a trickle of fear up your spine.

"What were you thinking Lo'ak? Meeting up with that killer tulkun, again!" He hisses, roughly pushing at his younger brother's head. "Why do you have to make things so difficult?"

"Neteyam," you soothed, moving to stand before him, "Your brother is actually seriously injured. Can we please have this conversation another time?"

"My brother wouldn't be injured if he didn't go past the reefs again. My brother wouldn't be injured if you didn't help him sneak out," Neteyam seethed, towering over you as his golden eyes burned with a blend of anger and disappointment.

Under his intense gaze, you curled into yourself, ears pinning back. You knew what you did was wrong, but you had never seen Lo'ak connect so deeply with someone before.

"Payakan is Lo'ak's spirit brother," you hushed softly, arms and tail wrapping around yourself as you tried to explain yourself to Neteyam, "Outcast or not…They are spirit brothers, Neteyam."

Neteyam clicked his tongue and threw his head back in frustration. Your name then escaped his lips, laced with cold disdain, "I would have expected this from him, but I never imagined you would actively go out of your way to assist him. You were trained to be Tsahìk, and I trusted you to act responsibly."

He took a moment to breathe, his pause magnifying the weight of the situation. "I couldn't be more wrong."

The walls of the room seemed to close in, suffocating you, as his words pierced your heart. Shame washed over you, causing your body to tremble as you grappled with your emotions.

"Neteyam, I…" you tried to speak up once more, but your mouth ran dry, throat shutting close.

"I…I'm sorry, sir," you force out, voice quivering.

Lo'ak's gaze intensifies, and a surge of protective rage surges through him. He swiftly moves to your defense, shoving Neteyam away, a low hiss rumbling from his chest. "Y/N did what she thought was right. We're all responsible for our own actions. Don't you dare lay this shit on her for something I did."

Neteyam's lips were pulled back into a snarl as he pushed Lo'ak back, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "Responsible for our own actions? That's rich coming from you considering how much you just love to start shit."

Lo'ak growled before he moved to grapple Neteyam, forcefully pinning the older boy against the pod's walls. The impact caused the wall to shake, knocking a few bottles of herbs from the shelves, which tumbled and clattered onto the woven floors.

"Lo'ak—!" you gasped out seeing the boy draw his hand back, knocking his fist into Neteyam's face.

Neteyam staggered backward, colliding with the wall, as the force of the blow resounded with a heavy thunk. Momentarily dazed, he blinked and glanced up at Lo'ak, his hand instinctively reaching to his throbbing jaw.

“You skxáwng,” he growls.

"Yep. That’s me," Lo'ak quipped, his grin transforming into a menacing sneer. "Your disappointment of a brother. The fucking outcast of the family here."

Neteyam scoffs, wrenching himself off the wall, stomping forward until he was in front of Lo'ak. "What was the one thing dad asked for? Not to cause any trouble, right?" Neteyam huffs. "I'm just looking out for you! We are brothers, Lo'ak. Sully's stick together"

Lo'ak bares his teeth then, a growl ripping from his throat.

"You are not my brother."

Before you could process it, Neteyam's knuckles, flesh and bone, connected hard with Lo'ak's nose. The sound of the impact echoed through the pod, a sharp crack that filled the air. Your eyes widened as you watched Lo'ak reel backward, his body colliding forcefully with a wooden pane. The sudden eruption of violence from the normally composed Neteyam shattered the silence that had settled in the pod.

Lo'ak's snarl shifted into a pained grimace as he clutched his nose, blood streaming between his fingers. The pod fell into an eerie stillness, the air heavy with tension.

You stepped forward, a mix of fear and concern driving you. "Stop! This won't solve anything," you implored, reaching out to Lo'ak with a gentle touch.

Neteyam watched as you fretted over his younger brother, a burning mix of guilt and resentment bubbling up in his gut.

Lo'ak stared up at Neteyam, his anger wavering, replaced by a mixture of hurt and disbelief. His eyes searched desperately for a hint of remorse, a glimmer of understanding. But the older boy just stood there, his jaw clenched.

Shaking his head in frustration, Neteyam turned towards the chamber's entrance. His gaze lingered on Lo'ak, expression hardened with resolve.

"No flying or diving for a month," he declared, his voice carrying a note of finality.

With that, he strode out of the room, leaving behind a tense silence.

Lo'ak clicked his tongue before turning to you, concern etched on his face. He sent a cautious look your way, his voice filled with compassion. "You alright? That was rough back there. His words, I mean."

You mustered a watery smile, trying to brush off the events that just transpired.

"You're the one injured here, I should be asking you that. Plus, I'm used to it," you replied, your voice tinged with the slightest hint of amusement. Lo'ak attempted to speak up once more, but you swiftly redirected the conversation, your hands already reaching for the healing paste.

"Come, let's fix you up."

The recent days had become a harrowing blur, with a sense of impending doom hanging heavily in the air. Throughout the village, warriors hastily armed themselves, and healers busied themselves with gathering herbs, all while a dark storm loomed ominously above.

It was undeniable—the sky demons had returned.

In the midst of the mounting turmoil, you found yourself travelling through the waters with your friends, following Lo'ak after he abruptly plunged into the depths of the ocean, navigating past the reefs with his ilu.

The salty air clung to your senses as you leaned forward, desperation lacing your voice.

"Lo'ak! Where are you going?!" you cried out, tightly grasping Neteyam's waist as you both pursued him on the back of an ilu.

Lo'ak remained eerily silent, his focus fixated on the abyssal strength of the wavves before him. With an alarming agility, Lo'ak dove down, the sleek figure of his ilu slicing through the water with ease. Gripped by fear and worry, you turned to your beloved, seeking solace and answers.

"Nete—" you began, but your words were swallowed by Neteyam's grim interruption.

"He's going after Payakan," Neteyam replied curtly, his teeth clenched. Gripping your thigh tight, he positioned himself with a firm hold on the ilu's saddle. "Hold on tightly."

With a commanding click, Neteyam directed the ilu to dive down, plunging deeper into the unknown depths.

Then, as you emerged from the depths, you found yourself in the middle of the battle. Crashes of boats and metal birds floating all about you.

As you surveyed the battlefieds, you froze, heart sinking at the sight of Lo'ak perched atop a familiar tulkun, desperately attempting to remove the tracking device cruelly embedded in Payakan's flesh.

Without a second thought, you propelled yourself forward, driven by a surge of adrenaline, disregarding Neteyam's frantic shouts as you rushed to aid Lo'ak in freeing his spirit brother.

The others, recognizing the gravity of the situation, quickly rallied to your aid. Hands reached out, working in unison, as you all grappled with the device, pulling, tugging, and knocking against it in a desperate attempt to break its grip.

"Pull!"

Each moment felt like an eternity but with a final surge of combined effort, the tracking device relinquished its hold, tearing free from the tulkun's skin. A collective breath escaped your lips, mingling with the creature's relieved exhalation.

However, any semblance of relief quickly dissipated when Jake's voice pierced through Neteyam's communication device.

"Boy? Are you there?" Jake's voice quivered with anxiety, instantly sending a shiver of panic down your spine. The sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach intensified as you strained to listen to every word exchanged.

Neteyam swallowed, his throat constricting, before he mustered the courage to respond, "Yeah. I'm here, sir. What's wrong?"

The tense silence hung heavy in the air as you all held your breath, anticipating Jake's next words.

"Is your mate there?" Jake's voice crackled with urgency, the weight of his inquiry sinking into your bones, evoking a gnawing sense of apprehension.

Neteyam hesitated, his eyes briefly meeting yours, before he replied, his voice tinged with unease, "Yes. Yes, she is here—"

Before he could finish, Jake interrupted, his tone laden with concern, "There's been a report that a female na'vi was spotted on the docks of the boat. Are your sisters there?"

The weight of those words hit you like a thunderbolt.

"Shit," you cursed under your breath, running a hand through your braids.

"No, sir. Both Tuk and Kiri are not here," Neteyam replied, his voice laden with dismay.

Jake's voice crackled through the communication device once again, the urgency palpable in his words. "Stay vigilant, Neteyam. We can't afford any risks."

Neteyam nodded, his expression grim and resolute. "Understood, sir. We'll stay on high alert."

As the connection ended, Neteyam immediately began to issue orders, his voice firm and commanding.

"Ao'nung, take Roxto and Tsireya away from here. The open waters are too dangerous. We'll regroup by the rock outcrops," Neteyam directed, his tone brooking no argument.

The metkaniyan nodded, a stony frown etched on his face as he hurriedly ushered his sister and friend away from the immediate vicinity, their ilus awaiting them nearby. Neteyam watched them depart, his gaze lingering for a moment, before he turned his attention back to you and Lo'ak.

"That means you two as well."

"No, Neteyam, no," you protested vehemently. The mere thought of leaving him alone in the face of the approaching war was unbearable to you. "I am not leaving you."

Your plea hung in the air, thick with emotion. It made Neteyam take a moment to pause before he reached for you. An arm curled around your waist as he pulled you close, pressing a searing kiss against your lips.

Then, with a heavy sigh, he drew back, his brows furrowed as anguish swam around his sharp eyes. His gaze shifted to Lo'ak, a silent understanding passing between them. Neteyam's voice was strained but resolute as he addressed his brother, "Go. Now."

The weight of his decision lingered in the air, and you pleaded desperately, your voice wavering, "Neteyam…"

But his mind was made up. Casting one final, heart-wrenching look back at you, he rushed away, vanishing into the crashing waves.

Frantically, you turned to Lo'ak, and it only took one look for you to know that he shared your thoughts.

"We're going after him," he declared, his voice echoing your own desire.

Without wasting another moment, you set off, running towards the crashing waves, adrenaline surging through your veins.

The open waters beckoned, their depths mocking with unseen perils, but you refused to be deterred. The clicks of your ilu's came close and you both made haste, clambering atop the creatures as you dived towards the boat.

By the time you had arrived, half of the vessel was already submerged in the water, and you and Lo'ak quickly scaled its metallic walls, scrambling across the deck.

As you scanned the surroundings, your gaze locked onto three familiar figures at the edge. Kiri is the first to meet your eye and she starts shouting for you to take cover.

The echoes of gunshots reverberated through the air, jolting you into immediate action. You and Lo'ak swiftly slid down towards the figures, engaging in a fierce struggle as you pushed aside soldiers in your path.

Lo'ak managed to snatch a gun along the way, arming himself for the impending confrontation.

"Y/N!" Tuk called out for you as you ran to their position.

Reacting swiftly, you scooped the young girl into your protective embrace, shielding her from the bloodshed unfolding around you. Meanwhile, Lo'ak urgently guided Kiri to safety behind a nearby wall, ensuring she was out of harm's way and sheltered from the relentless barrage of bullets.

In the midst of the pandemonium, Neteyam retrieved the gun from Lo'ak, his movements experienced. He positioned himself around the corner, using it as cover, and unleashed a volley of return fire at your assailants.

"Y/N! Move them out!" Neteyam's cry echoes through the chaos, his voice strained as a bullet narrowly misses his skull.

"Yes, sir!" Reacting swiftly, your instincts kick in without hesitation. Grasping Tuk's hand tightly, you forcefully propel her forward alongside Lo'ak and Kiri, sprinting towards safety.

A sudden prickling sensation on the back of your neck momentarily distracts you, but the rush of adrenaline surging through your veins pushes it aside.

Neteyam, ever vigilant, stays close behind, providing cover fire to protect you all as you navigate through the perilous terrain. With every beat of your heart echoing in your chest, you reach the edge and, without pausing to think, leap over the railing, plunging into the water below.

As the shock of hitting the water subsides, you gasp for air, determined to stay afloat. Despite the biting cold and the sharp tremors running through your body, you maintain a firm grip on Tuk's hand, ensuring she resurfaces beside you.

That was when you realized something was wrong.

The hollers and war-cries of your friends echo in the distance but all you could focus on was the searing hot pain burning up on your neck. The wild waves toss and rock your aching body, carrying you further away from the safety of the group.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" Tuk questioned, immediately taking notice of how pale your face had gotten. The girl paddled closer to you, a shrill scream ripping out of her throat once she saw the murky red waters around you.

The others reacted with alarm, rushing over to you. Choking and gasping for air, you felt your head sink beneath the waves, saltwater filling your lungs.

Fortunately, before you could drown, a pair of strong arms encircled your middle, pulling you up from the depths. As you were turned around, you found yourself face to face with Neteyam, his expression panicked while his mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words as he took in your pale face.

"Syulang—" he began, his voice choked with urgency.

"Bro! What are you waiting for? Get her on!" Lo'ak's voice interrupted, snapping Neteyam out of his trance. His gaze shifted to Lo'ak and Kiri as they guided an ilu towards you. He hastily moved to lift you atop the saddles, before clambering up to sit behind you. After making tsahelyu, he instructed the creature to move, making sure to swim above the waters due to your injury.

Heaving, you felt blood seep from your mouth as you curled onto Neteyam's chest. His normally steady heartbeat was frantic, a panicked endless thrum that seemed to almost blend into one. His lips were pressed tight against your temple as his fervent prayers seeped against your burning skin.

"Stray strong. I need you to stay strong," Neteyam's voiced hushed.

In the distance, he spotted a rocky outcrop where his parents stood, urgently waving them over. Lo'ak followed closely behind, his voice trembling as he called out to them. "Dad! Mom! It's Y/N!"

Working together, both Lo'ak and Neteyam carefully lifted your body onto the rocky stump, surrounded by Neteyam's family. Your breaths now came in short, labored heaves, your chest rising and falling rapidly as it struggled to draw in enough oxygen.

Jake stepped forward, his hands pressing against your shoulders as he gently rolled you over to examine your wound. A sinking dread settled in his chest as he saw the gaping exit wound at the base of your nape.

Neteyam stood by his father's side, his hands trembling with panic. "Sir? What's wrong?"

"Pressure. Put pressure," Jake's voice came out monotonous which sent a strike of fear through Neteyam. Immediately, the boy did as told, his large hands pressing onto your frail neck. Your eyes darted frantically across the faces gathered around you, wild and unfocused, until they finally settled shakily on Neteyam.

"Sir, I—" you gasped, more blood slipping from your lips as you inadvertently bit down on your tongue in pain. Neteyam quickly hushed you, his frown deepening at the militaristic term you had used. "Sir, I'm sor—"

Then, the pain began to dull and a sense of impending finality washed over you. Heaving, you allowed yourself to lower your façade of strength and embrace your vulnerability in what could be your last moments. With a trembling hand, you reached up and pressed it against Neteyam's cheek, tears welling in your eyes as you took in the sharp features of his face.

"I'm scared," you winced, feeling small and lost, like a frightened child. "Ma'Neteyam… I am so scared."

Grief and anguish filled Neteyam's expression as he reached for your hand, pressing his lips gently upon it.

"I know, syulang. I know. I'm sorry," he murmured, a pool of guilt building up in his stomach as he recalled his last conversation with you and Lo'ak. "You'll be alright, okay? You have a strong heart."

As he looked into your wide, fearful eyes, Neteyam felt a surge of emotions wash over him, carrying him back to the vivid memories of your childhood.

The scenes played out in his mind like a reel of nostalgia, as if he were standing once again among the towering, thick trees of Omaticaya. He could almost hear the laughter that had filled the air as you both explored the wonders of the forest together, the exhilaration of climbing the sturdy branches, and the shared secrets whispered under the shelter of rocky caves.

"Neteyam… I'm scared," you whimpered, your heart throbbing in your chest as you felt the coarse texture of the sturdy tree trunk pressing against your back.

Both of you were out playing in the forests and had lost track of time. It was way past eclipse now.

The dense forest was sprawled out before you, engulfing everything before you in an ominous shroud. The fading light of the setting sun cast elongated, eerie shadows that danced amidst the towering trees.

A young Neteyam stood in front of you, his hands gently cupping your tear-streaked cheeks, tenderly wiping away the droplets. Then, the warrior boy radiated a warm smile at you. "I'll keep you safe, syulang."

The air resonated with unsettling growls and haunting howls. Amidst the gloom, pairs of luminous eyes glimmered from hidden crevices behind the trees, concealed beasts lying in wait. Though fear still lingered within you, you summoned the courage to step into his awaiting embrace, seeking solace and security in his arms.

"Do you promise?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I promise."

"I'll keep you safe, syulang," Neteyam hushed, his voice filled with desperation, as he leaned in to press a kiss against your cracked and bloodied lips. The taste of iron flooded his mouth, but the concern for your well-being eclipsed any discomfort he felt.

Drawing closer, his forehead gently touched yours, causing his tears to mingle with yours as they cascaded onto your cheek. "I promise."

Neteyam's trembling fingers delicately brushed against your neck, seeking the faint and weakening pulse that throbbed beneath your clammy skin. Your breathing, labored and high-pitched, struggled to utter his name, "Neteyam—"

"Nete...I," Then, in an agonizing moment, your eyes dulled, your body going limp as you gasped out your last breath. Neteyam froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he withdrew from you, his movements graceless. "Syulang?"

"Neteyam… I," Lo'ak croaked out, his voice laden with guilt as he moved closer, attempting to offer comfort to his brother. "I'm sorr—"

His well-intentioned gesture was abruptly met with a forceful push, as Neteyam's frantic state escalated. Disregarding the presence of the others, he gathered your lifeless body into his trembling arms, holding you close as he began to hyperventilate. "No, no, no, no—"

Lo'ak stood motionless, his gaze fixed upon the devastating scene unfolding before him. Blood stained the younger brother's hands, a haunting reminder of his involvement, the guilt and remorse etched deep within him. Kiri pressed herself against his side, offering what little solace she could.

Tears streamed down Neteyam's face in an unrelenting wave as he shook vehemently, his grip on your lifeless form tight. Every breath he managed to take came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with profound anguish as his quivering lips whispered a fervent prayer to Eywa.

"Great Mother, I beg of you, please don't take her away from me. It's not her time. Please, I can't bear to lose her," the words tore from his throat, strained and desperate, a raw and hoarse plea echoing through the air.

But the silence that followed was deafening, and the universe remained indifferent to his anguished pleas. Fate had dealt her cruel hand and there was no reversing what has happened. A despondent hush settled upon Neteyam as he cradled your cold body, his fingers trembling as he traced the contours of your face, desperately clinging to your fading warmth.

'All energy is only borrowed, and one day you have to give it back.'

These were the words that had been etched into Neteyam's consciousness since his earliest memories, told to him when he was a mere babe. Through the years, those words had taken root in his heart, their significance growing with each passing day. They held a bittersweet reminder of the transient nature of a Na'vi's existence, an understanding that all things, no matter how great or powerful, would eventually fade away.

And now, as he stood amidst the darkest hour of his life, pushing a leaf which cradled your lifeless body along the gentle waves, the weight of his mother's words pressed upon him with a poignant intensity. They whispered to him the solemn truth of loss, the inevitable fate that even the brightest and most vibrant blooms would eventually wither away.

Far off by the shores, the Metkayina clan were gathered together to honor your death. Soft songs were sun by artisans in the distance while warriors surrounded the waters, ready to assist your grieving mate in anyway.

The ebb and flow of the waves embraced your body, as Neteyam delicately allowed you to be immersed in the water. Neytiri and Jake moved to swim towards him, their concern evident in their eyes, but he shook his head, a silent request for solitude as he embarked on the final journey with you alone.

Silently nodding, they swam away and watched from a distance, their hearts heavy with grief for their son as Neteyam held you close, whispering words of love onto your cold lips.

Taking you into his arms once more, Neteyam took a deep breath, and with a graceful dive, immersed himself into the depths of the ocean.

In this underwater sanctuary, time seemed to stand still as he held his breath, allowing the weight of his emotions to wash over him. The silence enveloped him, broken only by the gentle lullaby of the underwater currents. His tears, blending seamlessly with the surrounding currents, were carried away into the vast expanse of the sea.

With a heavy heart, Neteyam loosened his grip, letting you go and releasing you into the gentle caress of the water. As your curled up form sank slowly towards the ocean bed, soft hues of blue and green cradled you in their hold, painting the scene with a poignant melancholy, as if the ocean itself mourned your passing.

A soft glow of bioluminescent algae adorned the waters, casting a mesmerizing luminescence upon the solemn setting. Each flickering glow, like a delicate farewell kiss.

Neteyam watched on as the golden tendrils engulfed you in its shimmering embrace. Then, finally, glowing like a chorus of tiny stars, the algae weaved their radiant tendrils around you, a final act of nature as Eywa took you in.

Ngaru irayo seiyi ayo,

Srrìri tìreyä,

Ma Eywa, ma Eywa.

Neteyam swam before the tree of ancestors, his heart heavy with a mix of anticipation and sorrow. His hands grasped onto his queue tightly, feeling the sacred bond beneath his battle-hardened palms. Just beside him, Tsireya floated along the deep waves with a heaviness in her gaze, her eyes downcast as she shakily signed to him, her hands trembling with emotion, 'Are you ready?'

Both of them had embarked on this solemn journey together, a quest to connect with the Metkaniyan spirit tree, seeking solace from your spirit and Eywa herself.

Neteyam had requested Tsireya's presence, knowing the sisterly bond that had blossomed between the two of you over the months. He understood that she, too, carried the weight of grief for your loss.

He nodded, a bit more frantic than he'd like. Tsireya smiled at his eagerness, her eyes shimmering with shared anticipation, her hands signing once more, 'Is there a specific memory you'd like to see?'

Neteyam paused, his mind drifting through the vast ocean of memories that he held of you, each one precious and poignant.

A minute passes, and finally, with a gentle nod, he signed his answer.

Neteyam found himself standing amidst the lush foliage of the Hometree, bathed in the soft glow of the sun. The vibrant colors of the forest danced around him, creating a tranquil backdrop for his restless heart. With each purposeful step, he moved stealthily through the forest. And then, his eyes locked onto a familiar sight—a burrowed cave where you often retreated to immerse yourself in craftwork.

His heart quickened with anticipation as he approached, his hand reaching for the necklace that hung around his neck, feeling the smooth beads under his fingertips. Then, in a single, fluid motion, he unclasped it and dropped it to the ground.

The remnants of this memory came rushing back, the echoes of your shared past resurfacing with vivid clarity. As he drew nearer, your teenage form seemed to flicker and shift, transforming before his eyes into your adult self. The passage of time etched upon your face, mirroring the weight and wisdom you accumulated over the years.

Time seemed to stand still as your gazes locked, a magnetic force pulling Neteyam closer to you. Emotions swelled within him, a blend of joy, sorrow, and a deep yearning to bridge the gap that separated you both.

"Hey," he smiled tearfully, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and vulnerability, "What are you doing, syulang?"

Your face lit up, a radiant smile gracing your lips as you gestured for him to come closer.

"I just finished weaving something. It's for you," you exclaimed, your excitement palpable. "Come, let me put it on."

Neteyam eagerly obeyed, lowering himself before you, allowing you to clasp the necklace around his neck.

"My mighty warrior, it suits you," you remarked, your voice filled with warmth as you beheld the necklace settled atop his chest.

Neteyam huffed out a bittersweet laugh as tears streamed down his cheeks. "It does."

Concern then etched across your face.

"Ma'Teyam," you murmured softly, your touch soothing as you gently ran your hands through his braids. Neteyam's tears continued to flow, an outpouring of emotions that spoke volumes of his love and longing. You furrowed your brows, tilting your head to the side.

"Why do you cry, Nete?"

"I'm just…" Neteyam took a moment to steady his breath, his voice a tender reflection of his inner turmoil. A mixture of joy and sorrow lingered in his words. "I'm happy to see you."

Your laughter, a melodic and breathless symphony, filled the forest with its warmth. It wrapped around Neteyam's heart, offering a fleeting respite from the weight of your loss.

"Oh," you replied, your voice tinged with affection, "I am happy to see you too, Nete."

Tsireya stood from afar, allowing Neteyam to meet you in spirit alone. She watched over him as his form drifted, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

Her heart then swelled with warmth as she witnessed his lips curve into a genuine grin, seeing his once stern expression melt away into a state of serene contentment.

Lawnol a mì te’lan.

#💫—vampsywrites #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fic #neteyam fanfiction #avatar neteyam #avatar #avatar x you #avatar x reader #avatar x na'vi reader #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully x you #atwow neteyam #netyam sully #atwow #avatar the way of water

[ily-fictional-women]

The Monster I am

Summary: After an argument Wanda realizes she may be the monster everyone says she is. 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: Arguing and mentions of blood

Word count: 1112

a/n: Surprise! Not dead! The fanfiction writer curse is just very real. Anyways here’s some hurt comfort for y’all. (Reblogs are welcome and critiques/advice are heavily encouraged, but please no translating.)

As Y/n and Wanda rode the Quinjet with the rest of the team coming back from a mission the negative energy between the two was obvious. Trying to somewhat make amends Wanda began inching her hand towards Y/n’s since she was still sitting next to her. But as soon as her hand grazed Y/n’s Y/n quickly moved her hand away not in the mood for any type of contact. 

Landing at the compound Y/n was the first one to grab her duffle bag and quickly make her way back to the bedrooms with Wanda following her. It doesn’t take long before Wanda is knocking on the door pleading with Y/n her. 

“Y/n, sweetheart please open the door. I just want to talk.” With no response, Wanda could feel a lump grow in her throat. She manages to slip out a joke, “Uh, you know this is my room too right?” Y/n finally opens the door but Wanda is met with a serious expression. “How are we supposed to talk Wanda? You have been getting yourself needlessly hurt to do what? Protect me?”  

Wanda could feel her eyes start to brim with tears but she moved closer to Y/n anyways. “Yes Y/n! That’s all I’ve been trying to do! I love you!” Y/n presses her hands against her face in frustration, “Well then maybe you need to stop Wanda. It seems like you’re forgetting I signed up for this job too. And when you’re too focused on me you’re putting our teammates in danger!” 

Wanda inches closer to Y/n again, “I can’t lose anyone else!” Wanda’s voice softens, “I’ve lost my mother, father, and brother. If I lose one more person I love I don’t know what will happen to me.” Y/n bites the inside of her cheek trying to figure out the right thing to say. 

“I know that Wanda, and I understand that. But that’s also not an excuse to endanger the lives of people I care about.” Wanda lifts up a hand to caress Y/n’s cheek, but at the speed she did it Y/n flinches back. The one simple motion stopped any tears Wanda had in her and replaced them with a special mixture of hurt and anger. 

“Did- did you think I was going to hit you?” Y/n stammers holding back tears of her own, “I- I don’t know.” Wanda clenches her fists trying to hold in any type of intense feelings. 

“Answer. The. Question.” 

“Wanda…” Y/n looks down at something but Wanda can’t be concerned with it. She screams at the top of her lungs, “Just tell me!” She hears a loud thunk. Opening her eyes Wanda first sees blood on the dresser that Y/n was standing in front of. Looking down Y/n is lying on the floor blood begins to stain the grey carpet. 

Lastly looking down at her own hands Wanda notices remnant wisps of red energy circling her hands. She did this. Immediately kneeling over Y/n she pressed her hand against the wound on Y/n’s head trying to stop the bleeding. Tears started to pour from her eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” her voice began to crack. “I’m sorry, please. Please don’t go. Don’t leave me. Not yet.” Someone not too far away was calling Wanda but she couldn’t bear to turn around. She just looked down at her blood-stained hands. Whoever is calling her is getting closer, maybe the world is right. Maybe she is something that needs to be contained. 

The person calling her was right behind her now. “Wanda. Wanda?” As she turned around to see who it was she switched spots with Y/n. Except she wasn’t bleeding or on the floor. She was in bed, with Y/n sitting up staring at her concerned. She can feel Y/n resting a hand on her cheek wiping away a few tears. 

“What was it this time?” Compared to the dream Y/n’s tone was softer, warmer, and more comforting. Trying to ground Wanda a little more Y/n began to move her hand from Wanda’s cheek grazing her arm before slipping her hand under Wanda’s shirt drawing shapes into her back with her fingertips. 

Wanda sits up slightly running a hand through her hair. “We were arguing about me being overprotective of you.” Y/n looks down at Wanda’s hands as she begins playing with Y/n’s free hand avoiding any form of eye contact. 

“Is that it? You were crying a lot this time. You don’t have to tell me anything of course. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Wanda bites the inside of her cheek worried what Y/n may think. 

“When we were arguing you flinched probably thinking I was going to hit you. And I lashed out because of that. I lost control of my powers and hurt you.” Wanda’s eyes begin to well up with tears again as she lets go of Y/n’s hand examining her own in slight fear. “I think I killed you.” 

“Hey, look at me.” Y/n tilts Wanda’s head up meeting her eyes before gently grabbing her hands and kissing them a few times. “It was just a nightmare. Nothing else. I know you would never hurt me. You are amazing in so many ways I can’t explain.” 

“You don’t think I’m overprotective?” Y/n cracks a smile, “No. I think you’re protective of me the same way you are with anyone else on our team. Maybe just a little bit more than them if we’re in a really dangerous situation. But I don’t think you’re overprotective. And even if you were I would understand why. You’ve lost a lot of people you care about. I’d never argue with you over something you feel.” 

Wanda lets out a deep breath finally starting to relax. Giving her a quick forehead kiss Y/n smiles, “So, did you want to watch a few episodes of a show or something?” Wanda raises an eyebrow at her. “Isn’t it late?” Y/n shrugs, “A little but I figured you might not want to go back to sleep yet.” 

Wanda cracks a small grin looking at Y/n, “Well I don’t.” Y/n quickly gets out of bed brushing herself off, “Good. You start thinking of a show then while we raid the kitchen pantry.” As Wanda gets out of bed Y/n grabs onto her hand once more and she lets out a small, “I love you.” Y/n replies back in a soft whisper, “I love you too.”

#angst with a happy ending #wanda marvel #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda mcu #wanda x you #wanda maximommy #marvel imagine #marvel fancic #hurt/comfort #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff needs a hug

[seelestia]

— 𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐘.

❝𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥.❞

SUMMARY. refers to a behaviour or way of thought peculiar to an individual; but in this case, it's something that they do around you and only you.

CHARACTERS. tighnari, alhaitham, cyno.

GENRE. fluff, a moderate amount of crack, established relationship.

CW. mentions of cute aggression and affectionate bullying (in tighnari's part), the reader is down bad for alhaitham and he knows it, one dad joke about cryo slimes (in cyno's part).

THOUGHTS. finally managed to finish this draft while i was on my mini vacay >:) this is my first time writing sumeru men, so feel free to lmk what you think! <3

✰ masterlist.

TIGHNARI . . . likes to knock you on the head, very softly and lovingly.

No, no, don't you go around thinking that you can escape his long and stern lectures just because the two of you are an item. Others may think that you're the only one that has a privilege they don't, but they can't be more wrong.

Asking dumb questions? Flirting with him shamelessly? Want a kiss? You'd get a soft bonk to the head personally delivered by Tighnari himself first, if that even counts as a privilege.

Rest assured that Tighnari's intent is never to hurt you, nor does it actually hurt when he does so. To him, it's an effective way of hushing you nonverbally and it also, may or may not, be his extremely unique love language. Why?

Well, Tighnari kind of... and he stresses, just kind of likes how you scrunch your nose every time he flicks your forehead, how you would complain so adorably and how you would— ahem. Actually, he has some work to do right now, bye.

Sitting down beside Tighnari under the shade beneath the trees of Avidya Forest, you lean towards your partner who is busy scribbling away in his notebook. Curious, you raise an eyebrow at him, "Which plant are you writing about today?"

"Mmm," Tighnari only hums in response. Yet, that can barely be considered an answer to your question. "Nari," you huff, asking for a small dime of his attention.

His hand continues to glide over the pages in his book and his voice is firm as he tells you, "Hold on, I have to jot this down first."

There is no interrupting his focus for even a brief moment, is there?

"Yes, sir," you shake your head. A heavy sigh of resignation is the only thing you can afford to let out. While you do so, Tighnari's pen doesn't halt — well, until it actually does and your forehead suddenly becomes its new destination for no reason at all.

Thunk!

You immediately wince back, resting a hand over the slightly aching spot at the exact center of your forehead. Why is his aim so darn good!? It's an ironic thought since your boyfriend is an archer, but your brain has no time for that right now.

"Wait, what did I do?!" The way you express your confusion so hurriedly comes out in a high-pitched whisper. Hah, he can hear the sulkiness in your voice, how cute.

"Existing," Tighnari smiles.

He smiles and it is now your turn to give him the most incredulous look ever. So, you can't even exist peacefully now? Shouldn't this be considered as affectionate bullying?!

Little do you know how difficult it is for Tighnari to hold in the bark of laughter at the back of his throat upon seeing your reaction.

What? He has done nothing wrong.

Your sulky side is just so cute so of course, he'd have to retaliate with... some form of cute aggression, yeah. Quite funny for someone with fluffy ears and a tail to talk about that topic — but hey, he just calls you cute and that's a compliment, alright?

ALHAITHAM . . . willingly indulges in small talk with you, something he never does with other people.

Most people with a conscious mind don't approach Alhaitham unless they really, really have to. There is just something so piercing about his gaze that scares them to the bone, an electric jolt that instantly sends chills down their spines. He scrutinizes people as if he is breaking them down piece by piece inside his mysterious mind.

As a man who runs on pure rationality, he doesn't spend his time listening to useless information from people who don't matter to him. However, that is exactly it; he doesn't participate in small talk because those people don't matter to him, that's why you are different.

Even to you, it still feels so weird— no, oddly flustering, actually. To see a man so notoriously known for his disregard of others listening to you and something that is even more bizarre? The fact that he is yours.

"Ah, speaking of, I borrowed this particular book from House of Daena—"

It has always been this way; a routine where you'd speak and he'd listen.

The matters you talk about are nothing of utmost significance, nothing that would aid him in his research for knowledge, nothing that would've been useful for his gain.

Small talk is what people call it, yes? How trivial, that mindset of his stays. Yet, when you talk about your day, when you ask him about his day, when you show true interest in his research — Alhaitham doesn't mind, he has gradually learnt not to.

The man is used to being alone; he doesn't want to be involved in people's lives nor does he want them to be involved in his. But the moment he agrees to enter a relationship with you, small talk is a change that he approaches skeptically but he treads closer to it, nonetheless.

Alhaitham tries for you and you acknowledge that all too well.

The way he'd place his hand on his chin as he listens to you speak, the way his tone grows softer around you (whether he realizes or not), how he'd cross his arms against his chest when he is relaxed.

Those little things about him? They make your heart flutter.

He is doing it again today too — and all of a sudden, you find yourself getting distracted halfway through your speech, an abrupt halt that earns you a look of astonishment from the very man who lingers on your mind.

"Hm, what's wrong? Continue," he gestures to you with a raised eyebrow. Ah, you can see it; the gentlest sliver of concern behind that firm expression on his face and your heart does its silly flip once more.

"R-right," you stammer, a flustered croak that triggers the sudden need to bury your face in your hands.

This is so strange, it's not like you're stuck at the crushing phase. Archons, the both of you are officially together now — so, why are you still so easily flustered around him? It seems your feelings for him haven't lessened, even by a small margin.

With a clear of your throat, you try to gather pieces of composure you have left, "Ahem, as I was saying..." But in the corner of your eyes, you can see hints of a fond smile appearing on Alhaitham's lips.

He knows exactly what you're thinking about, doesn't he?

CYNO . . . searches your eyes eagerly for affirmation after he makes a joke.

The General Mahamatra isn't a man of many words. Whenever he speaks, it is concise and straightforward but that is just the way Cyno tries to exude his usual aura of coolness which, more often than not, actually works.

Yet, you know him better than that. As his lover, that intimidating exterior of his can't fool you — after all, you've been a witness to a certain special side to him that many people don't know.

That includes jokes and puns, and lots and lots of them. Who would've thought the oh-so scary General Mahamatra tells puns that makes you want to rethink life for fun?

Listening to his laughter filling the awkward silence after he drops a pun or when he tries to actually explain the point of his joke is truly an experience you wish you can showcase to those who are so afraid of him. (You won't, though since it'll hurt his pride.)

Did you sign up for this? No, but you're not complaining. You may not be a higher-up from the Akademiya, but for Cyno? You'd give his adorably terrible jokes and puns an A+ any day and anytime.

“Which creature has the worst personal hygiene in all of Teyvat?"

Ah, such an interesting grin does the General Mahamatra harbor on his face. An expectant one too, at that — recognizing when Cyno is about to say another joke that he likely grabs from the inventory in his brain is basically your job, at this point.

Mentally preparing for the worst, you eye him suspiciously, "...Which one?"

"Cryo Slimes, because they always bounce on top of the water and never go in for a bath.”

His grin totally widens by two centimetres as he says that, you swear. Now, that's sheer pride if you've ever seen it on someone's face before.

Cyno's enthusiasm doesn't even falter one bit; in fact, it seems like it may have just doubled more than anything. You stay silent for a moment, feeling more endeared with that look on his face than the joke.

When he tells jokes around other people, he does so as a little parade to showcase his witiness — but with you, he does it with the sole intentions to impress. So, when you reciprocate with a moment of silence in order to contemplate his joke, Cyno mistakes it for something else.

He mumbles with a hint of bashfulness in his voice, "...Was it bad?" His hand immediately shoots up to tug his headpiece lower as an attempt to hide his face from view.

Cyno's red-orange eyes begin to scan your expression almost sheepishly, "It can't be that bad, right?"

He's so adorable, you muse to yourself.

You tap your chin with an amused hum, "I'll give it an A+ for effort."

The way he hurriedly tugs his headpiece further down from burning embarrassment makes you realize that you do rejoice being the only one to witness this awkward side of the General Mahamatra.

You truly do.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @tsuk4sa-yug1 @hcikazu @catcze — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + fill this form to be a part of my taglist! ]

© SEELESTIA, sept 2022. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin hcs #genshin drabbles #tighnari x reader #tighnari x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #cyno x reader #cyno x you #seelestial.inks

[fourstarsoutofnine]

I was wondering if you could do something with reader yeeting a weighted blanket at the chain and their reactions? I got reminded of that weighted blanket trend and thought it’d be funny

A/N:HAHAHA ABSOLUTELY OMG this ask made me actually laugh out loud😭 I have a weighted blanket I use sometimes bc it helps with chronic pain(I have arthritis) and anxiety and such—also I’ve always wanted to do that trend w someone but I’ve been to scared bc I don’t wanna hurt anybody :( anyway enjoy!

The chain and a weighted blanket!

(For simplicity’s sake, we’ll say they have weighted blankets in Hyrule lol)

Time:

Is a bit confused with the initial throw(I’d be struggling if I tried tbh) like—why is a blanket being thrown on him, but once it hits him, he stumbles back with a groan and a laugh

“What’s wrong with this thing, great goddesses!”

Totally thinks it’s funny

Will be buying a weighted blanket as soon as possible to get Malon with it…also just cause it feels nice.

Twilight:

Catches it

“Hylia, this is heavy, why is this blanket heavy???”

When you(albeit shocked, cause how did he freaking catch it) explain to him that it has sand(?) in it, and what it can be used for, he’s pleasantly surprised.

“Oh wow! Who would’ve thought of such a thing!”

He accompanies you to go get Wild with it.

Wild:

Body folds like a lawn chair

“OGH-“ and a thunk on the ground 💀

But he’s laughing!

Pokes his head out and just kinda lays there. Twilight’s cackling his head off behind you.

“Why?” He asks with a laugh and you just

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Funny is funny, and it’s nice to have a few pranks here and there, both to keep you on your toes and have a laugh.

Sky:

Also folds like a lawn chair

Except he doesn’t like his head out like wild. When there’s no movement and you peek under, he’s asleep

Mans can fall asleep anywhere anytime in a short amount of time. Sleeping is like second nature to him.

“Sky???”

Nothing. Dead silence. You’re actually beginning to wonder if it knocked him out, but no. He’s snoring, and seems perfectly fine. It’s just comfy and he decided it was time to honk his shoos. Go night night for a bit.

Wars:

You throw it at him from behind and he stumbles forward into the stump he was using as a table for planning their next route.

“Agh! Hey!!!”

Was originally upset but when he saw how hard you were laughing, he can’t seem to make himself stay mad

You were too cute, and far too happy. He didn’t want to ruin that.. and it was a little funny

“Alright Alright, You’ve had your fun…. Now go get the vet.” He said with a soft smile. The effect you had on these boys was remarkable

Legend:

Get ready to run, and run fast

Yeah—he’s… pretty much the only one that didn’t take it well.

You threw it on him and he fell forward and cursed

“Y/n what gives?!”

Though when he saw how upset his yelling made you, he softened.

“It was just a joke, I didn’t mean—“

“No. It’s whatever.” He drops the blanket to the ground with a thud and crossed his arms. “It’s fine. Stop looking like that, though. All…sad. You look like a wet dog… or wet blanket, more appropriately..”

That made you crack a smile, and he huffed and rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth turning up as he turned away.

You can’t figure out if he said the pun with the intention of making you laugh or not, but it worked. (Spoiler alert, yes he did. He’s a softie whether he likes it or not and he has a particular soft spot for you.)

(Totally got the blanket to sleep under it for comfort, but if you told anyone or asked him about it he’d deny everything.)

Hyrule:

“AAH!” He yelled as he flew forward when you threw it on his back.

He’s laughing, which is good.

Like time, he just laughs and holds it out to you, only he’s doing it with a touch of struggle to keep his arms out until you take it.

“That’s so heavy! What the heck! How did it get like that???”

After a long winded explanation, he really likes it!

Definitely asks for it one night, especially after a particularly rough battle.

Four:

Like Wars, he’s a bit upset but laughs it off, because at the end of the day, it is funny

Just make sure to pay attention to when you’re throwing it on him. Make sure he’s not working on any weapons—that’s dangerous ground both in injury and messing the weapon up.

Then, he’d actually be upset(but not for too long. He can’t stay mad at you.)

“Oh cmon!” He laughs, shoving you once he’s out from under the blanket.

Once he gets over his small upset, he’s laughing louder. It starts being real funny to him.

“That’s so dumb, that’s so dumb.” He says through laughter.

Wind:

He goes FLYING

“Hey y/—WAH!”

When you pick it up he’s got the biggest mischievous grin

“THATS CRAZY! LETS GO GET THE OTHERS!”

Thinks it’s the funniest thing known to mankind

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #lu four #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu twilight #lu wind #lu sky #lu time #Lu wild #lu warriors #lu wars #lu four x reader #sky x reader #hyrule x reader #lu hyrule x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu legend x reader #lu warriors x reader #lu time x reader #lu wild x reader

[cavity-exe]

Kiss me Animal

This has been in my drafts way too long with me very slowly updating it. I haven't written in a long time and this is honestly super self indulgent. I just need more plus size readers with Brian in my life

Warnings- Reader is described to have tits and cunt and is called pretty girl. P in V, praise kink, Brian definitely being ooc and a simp for soft chubby girls, fight me. I think that's it, I tried to make it friendly for all the plus sized girlies to read so if I missed any warnings or unfriendlies just lemme know :3

---------------

It'd been a long day

A really long fucking day, anything that could have went wrong absolutely did. Brian sighed as he kicked off his boots, the soles making a heavy thunk as they hit the wooden floor. He flopped back onto their old couch, arms resting on top of it as his head leaned back. A hand wiped down over his face as he let out a groan recalling all the events that had occurred today.

It was supposed to be a simple mission really, take out two people and wipe up any evidence the two had gathered. This sort of thing shouldn't have even required all three of them, and yet it was the messiest job they'd done in a long while. Tim triggered the back door alarm which could have worked in their favor if they had known where in the house the victims were, they didn't. A chair got taken to the back of Tim's head collectively knocking him out for a bit. Of all things Toby had to be threatened with was a blow torch, the fire of course freaking him out and causing him to stumble into Brian.

Another groan left the man as he shook his head, cringing at just how clumsy all three of them had been. Of course they did what needed to be done, but the drive back was tense as fuck with the other two being royally pissed off about how everything had gone down.

Brian was over the whole thing, wanting to just let it roll off his back and move on with his day. The blonde lazily sat up, throwing his hoodie off and onto a chair as he walked into the cabins little kitchenette. It was almost a surprise to see someone else there, forgetting for a quick moment that it wasn't just him and the other two men in the cabin anymore. He eyed you as you didn't seem to notice his presence, which wouldn't be the first time for Brian anyways. You'd been here for a few months, the operator unfortunately having taken a liking to you and directing you to their cabin of all areas.

Brian's eyes washed over your plump form, it looked like you had just rolled out of bed, hair unkempt and a loose t-shirt falling off your shoulder. His eyes went lower, a tight lil pair of black shorts were hugging your ass and chubby thighs. He hated those tiny little shorts, though you obviously seemed to love them since you wore them so God damn often. Maybe if you hadn't Brian would have talked to you more, no excuses for his mind or eyes to start wandering, though even he knew that was a lie. The man still couldn't hold conversation with you even when out doing work, and you wore cargo pants for fucks sake.

Brian looked off to the side, not wanting to be a creep as he cleared his throat to get your attention. It seemed like that was always his goal though, not wanting to appear as some sort of creep to you. It annoyed him to no end, he was the smooth talker out of their group, if they had to talk to a victim he was the first to go without a problem.

"Hey, how'd it go?". You didn't turn to face him as he walked up to the counter, pouring himself a mug of coffee. Glancing at your face, you almost looked annoyed with the slight pout and furrowed eyebrows.

"It uh, definitely could've gone better, the other two went out to go cool off from it actually". You looked over to him amused, sipping at your own mug with a nod, eyes slipping down him for a brief second before quickly looking away.

"You alright? Look like you been sleeping all day, and doesn't look like it was a good sleep". He let out a soft chuckle, at the grimace that came over your face with a shake of your head.

"Yeah I'm alright, though sleeping would've been much more accomplishing honestly". You sighed out while setting your mug in the sink. Brian raised an eyebrow at that, more accomplishing?

Watching you walk out of the kitchen, his eyes trailed down once again, before letting out a cough to himself and looking away.

This was usually how it went since you started staying with the three of them. Sure the two of you had held a few conversations late at night on the couch, but you just seemed to hold much longer talks with Tim and Toby, Tim of all people? Brian felt like he was honestly losing his touch. With a sigh he rolled onto his back, thick comforter shifting underneath him as he stared at the ceiling. His body shifted as his mind easily wandered to past images of your body, his hand going over his face at how easily worked up he seemed to be lately. Maybe he just needed a good fuck?

Though, when even was the last time he got laid? Too long apparantly as he groaned trying to remember before slipping a hand down his sweats. He let out a huff as he wrapped a fist around his half hard cock, immediately an image of those tiny black shorts coming to mind.

He swallowed thickly as he slowly pumped up and down, wetting his bottom lip as he imagined your soft thighs spilling out of fabric. How they dug into your flesh when you sat on the couch across from him. He loved how when you sat down the soft skin of your tummy bunched up over your hip and spilled out of whatever bottoms you had on. He let out a low groan, imagining how soft you'd feel against him, thumb running over the head of his cock, smearing the drip of precum over his member.

His head tilts back against the pillow, a soft wet slap being heard around the room. He let's out a grunt, imagining the jiggle of your ass as you ran in front of him, fuck if only co-

Knock, knock knock

Eyes snapped open at the light rap on his door, an annoyed low grunt leaving him as he tucked himself back into his sweats. Trudging to the door and opening it, about to give whoever it was a fuck off.

"H-hey, um sorry I know it's late."

The annoyed look on Brian's face quickly fell, suddenly aware of how his sweats hugged around his crotch he leaned himself away from the door frame as best as he could.

"Oh no don't worry about it, I wasn't asleep anyways. Did you need something?" He smiled down at you as calmly as he could trying to appear as relaxed as he could. He scanned your body as quickly as he could, fuck you had another pair of those damn shorts? Another color but it didn't matter, you were at his door in those tight lil things with a snug tank top on. He gulped slightly as he watched your chest rise and fall, watching how your flesh threatened to spill out over the fabric. How it hugged your soft sides and hips and waist and holy fuck he could see your hard nipples clearly through it.

"You have a bad staring problem, yknow that Brian?."

Hazel eyes snapped back up to your face that held a small smile. Brian felt his face heat up as he coughed into his fist.

"Fuck sorry, could you repeat yourself? Maybe I'm more tired than I thought". Playing it off with a chuckle as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

You looked up at him with an eyebrow raised, stepping closer to him and into the door frame.

"I'm not that oblivious, you know that right?" Your hand came up to rest on his chest with a playful smile. Brian had to stare at you for a few seconds, feeling the warmth of your hand on his bare skin had his head reeling.

The next few moments were a blur of you getting tugged into the bedroom, big hands gripping at the soft flesh on your hips. Your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him into a kiss had Brian almost melting, pushing you against his door as he felt you up. Surprised as soft lips moved against his own excitedly.

It felt like Brian couldn't touch enough of you, wanting more of your soft flesh to squish between his fingers. A low groan left him as you tugged at his bottom lip, his hand pulling your thigh up to wrap around his hips. A shudder went through him as you ground yourself against his lap.

Lips trailed down your soft jaw and neck, his hands going lower to squeeze at your ass while he sucked just above your collar. The soft whimpers leaving your parted lips every time he sucked on your skin had him grinding himself back against you.

"Fuck pretty girl, don't know how long I've wanted to feel you like this." He pulled away from your marked neck. A hand was brought up to your face and he let out an amused hum at the warmth coming from your cheeks. You let out a little pant before smiling at him.

"I should've shown up at your door late at night a lot sooner then huh? I guess I just didn't ever wanna interrupt your lil one on one times with yourself." You had a sly smile as you scrunched your nose up at him. Brian dropped his head with a slight chuckle, quickly gripping your other thigh and hoisting you up. He let out a laugh at the the yelp that came out of you.

"What a fucking tease, you knew all this time and didn't even wanna help a guy out? Maybe I should just leave you high and dry tonight then." He gave you a serious stare but it was a fucking lie. There was no way Brian was gonna choose not to sink into your soft form and watch you come undone. Annoyingly you seemed to already know that as you smiled at him.

"Just take me to the bed already, we both know thats not happening".

Brian could have said something sarcastic but did as told anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed so you were perched on his lap all pretty. His hands couldn't help but find place on your soft hips, thick fingers sinking into the doughy skin. His fingers found the fabric of your shorts, tugging them down and off of you, a small smirk forming on his lips at the sight of the pretty little thong you had on underneath.

You rested your hands on his chest, gliding them up and down the bare skin before dragging down to the top of his sweatpants.

Brian had to hold back a groan as you shifted against him. A sigh leaving him as you held onto his shoulders, his own hands tugging you closer as you ground into him. Half lidded eyes glanced up to your face, lips parted and your eyes downcast as you watched yourself move against him.

He felt like he was a in a haze as he watched you, hands gripping onto you like they never wanted to let go. He brought a hand up to your jaw, tilting your head so he could kiss your lips. Brian guided your hand back to his sweats, letting you tug them down to let his cock out. A sigh left him through his nose as you got right back to grinding against him, his cock catching on your damp panties every so often. A low chuckle goes through his chest at the sound of your whines, reaching a finger down to tug your panties aside. Rough hands gripped tightly onto your hips, beginning to guide your movements as his cock slid back and forth between your wet folds, the tip of his cock bumping against your clit every so often.

You found yourself on your back suddenly, head sinking down into a pillow as you blinked up at the blonde. It almost seemed predatory how he hovered over you, flushed lips panting as his eyes raked over your form. His hand almost smacks down onto your thigh with how rough he grips it, watching the fat squeeze through his fingers before moving your thighs apart and moving himself inbetween them.

Brian gulped as he watched your chest rise and fall underneath him, the way you looked laying there had his head racing with too many scenarios of everything he wanted to do to you.

"Please?". Just one word had him almost losing it, he'd imagined himself teasing you until you couldn't take it anymore countless times, but right now he couldn't seem to find the patience. Brian has to almost hold back a groan as he grips his cock, pushing it against your wet hole a few times before finally sinking in. The whine that leaves you has him huffing out a laugh as he catches his breath, grip tight on your hips as he lets you adjust.

It's truly a sight to see for Brian, thighs spread open around him, tank top bunched up on top of your soft tummy, the fabric stretched to the side and letting your tits almost spill out. He watched as your hands came up to paw at his chest, a lopsided grin forming on his lips as you mouthed his name. He didn't need anymore than that to start quickly putting into you, a grunt and a pant leaving him every few thrusts.

"Feel so soft under me pretty girl, fuck, just like I imagined." Rough hands squeezed at your thighs and hips, trailing up to your tummy despite the whines leaving you.

"Really don't understand how many times I've thought about fucking this soft cunt, so fuckin warm and tight and so god damn wet. Do you hear the filthy sounds your little cunt is making for me?." One of his hands left your thighs, coming up to grip your jaw in his hand so you could look up at him, smiling down at you like the cocky fuck he is. It felt like words were stuck in the back of your throat as he fucked you, your mouth opening a few times but no more than a moan leaving you. He grins with a harsh pant, hand leaving your jaw as it reaches down to suddenly tug at your nipple, a yelp leaving you.

"Oh I knew you could still talk, come on pumpkin, wanna hear you. Gotta use your big girl words for me."

The way he was talking to you was certainly doing something to you, talking in that sweet loving tone, his words drawn out, and yet it felt like he was mocking you. A louder moan leaves you as he moves to grip one of your thighs, holding it up against his hip so he can fuck into you deeper.

"Come on, tell me how it feels won't you baby?."

Fast pants and whimpers are leaving you before you can finally get your words to work. "S'feels good! Feels good Brian!."

He can't help but almost laugh at how whiny it comes out, rutting into you faster as he leans down against you.

"Aw atta girl, I knew you could do it pumpkin." The whine that leaves you before hiding your face into his shoulder is enough to make him finally laugh. Still gripping onto your thigh he slows down his pace, feeling himself getting worked up just a little too fast. He leans down just a bit more next to your ear, breathy voice the only other thing you can focus on other than his cock.

"You like when I call you sweet lil names huh sweetheart? Can't hide it with the cute sounds you make everytime I call you something. Is that all I need to do to get you to listen and talk to me hm? Call you baby, pumpkin or tell you just how good you are for me?."

Brian was really just rambling at this point, the slow drag of his cock slipping in and out of your warm cunt had his head feeling hazy. He was barely registering the way your nails slowly dug into his shoulders the more he talked.

"Don't worry baby, you can be my good girl every night." Finally leaning back up, he holds your cheek in his hand, taking a deep breath as he picks his pace back up again. He watches tears well up in your eyes, how warm your cheek is against his hand from embarrassment was going straight to his cock. His lips were on yours suddenly, the kiss messy and wet with drool seeping down your lips. Eyes were half lidded, watching the other before Brian pulled away, thumb coming up to swipe the drool back into your mouth. A heavy pant left him as he sunk his thumb into your mouth, resting it on your tongue as he groaned. He kept it there as his thrusts became short and quick.

"Need to feel you cum around me pretty girl, wanna watch you make a complete mess of yourself." Fingers slipped down in-between the both of you, two fingers coming down to your clit and rubbing in slow small circles. The arch in your back had him speeding up his fingers, grin never leaving his face as he watched your eyes screw shut.

"Fu-fuck, I-."

"Go ahead sweetheart, lemme feel you." Just one more sweet little name was all you needed apparently as you let out a whiny moan, thighs shuddering in his grasp. Both hands came to grip your waist as he grunted, quick curses leaving him before he was spilling into you.

Your hand ran over your forehead and layed above you as you panted, staring up at the ceiling as you listened to the blonde pant beside you. You glanced over at him, arm laying over his chest as he seemed to also be in a daze. Watching his Adams apple bob as he swallowed before glancing over at you too. The boyish smile that formed on his lips was enough for you as you smiled back.

----------------------------------------------------

Comments super appreciated cause I really wanna get back into writing, especially for marble hornets. Also yes this is set in an AU where they work for the operator, I'm sorry but it's easy and I'm dumb for them

#hoodie x reader #brian thomas x reader #marble hornets x reader #x chubby reader #x plus size reader #x reader #proxies x reader #marble hornets smut #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x chubby reader #creepypasta x plus size reader #yes ik they arent creepypasta but dont lie you know you bunch them together sometimes too LMAO

[trulycertain]

I couldn't help wanting to write something ridiculous with spawn!Astarion learning to turn into a bat. And then I got thinking about how the tadpole nerfs spawn powers. AU, post-canon, Tav/Astarion. About 1.3k?

Lora's feeling out a new riff, trying to work out if there's enough of a solid foundation for it to become a song, when there's a thunk and tinkle from the kitchen.

Shit. 

She sneaks through, knowing that Astarion's probably doing the same, if he's all right. If he's not… best to take in the situation. 

A vase rolls past her through the doorway. There's a small flappy sound, like someone's just pulled a sheet of leather taut. What -? An undead, perhaps? She pokes her head round the corner. 

There, sprawled on the kitchen countertop where she normally chops vegetables she'll be the only one eating, next to a fallen jar of herbs, is a bat. Big, albeit not as gigantic as some she's fought who turned out to be vampires in disguise; still, it's got an impressive wingspan, one of them hanging off the counter like a curtain. Or, she thinks, absurdly, the way Astarion likes to dramatically hang an arm off a fainting couch, while he's reading a book. He'll not be impressed by that comparison.

Her unexpected visitor is albino, and… fluffy. Really fluffy, chest like the world's smallest thick fur rug, or like it's got a little proud collar. Small, clawed feet are sticking inelegantly in the air, not quite spread-eagled (spread-batted?), as if it's going to try and jump back onto them. But who's heard of bats standing?

…Unless it's a vampire lord. But there aren't any of those after them - well, not anymore. And they're usually better at the whole bat thing. Less of crashing into Astarion's favourite vase. 

How in the hells did it get in? It's not like she left a window open; both she and Astarion are a tad too paranoid for that. 

It's not dead, at least: its chest is moving furiously. Makes sense. Bats are smaller, probably with a faster heartbeat. If it's in pain - well, she hopes it's not in pain. 

She's got no idea how to escort it off the premises. It's not that she's got a problem with bats - more that she's certain neither she, nor the bat, signed up for this. An angry wild animal? She has visions of it hanging from her finger by its teeth. Though honestly, she had a similar vision with Astarion, and things turned out pretty well there. But they're only borrowing this place for a while - she called in a favour. That favour probably didn't include bat tenants. 

Edging closer, she notes that it doesn't seem to be moving. Knocked itself out? Oh, that's not ideal. Though maybe she can sneak it out before it wakes up… No, from what she can see - one red eye - it's just staring at the ceiling. Almost glumly, if a bat can be glum. 

And then it spots her, and… lifts its wings to hide its face. In embarrassment. 

White fur. Red eyes. The way he looks when he's caught between trying to brazen it out or stalking off to hide his cringing. 

“...Astarion?”

Its - his ears twitch, and he raises a wing, holds it there. The way he'll raise a hand in acknowledgement and Don't even say it. 

She blinks, and whistles a few notes, hits a high C - there. Speak with animals. That should do it. “Are you hurt?” she tries; it’s been a while since she’s done this spell without a lute.

“Only my pride,” he mutters, mulish and with the slightest nasality - makes sense, between a flat snout and fangs. “I think your basil came off worse than I did.”

She stares. Definitely strange, hearing that familiar wry voice come out of a bat.  “What happened?” He’s normally so pretty - the kind of pretty he endlessly preens about. The pinkness of his nose is oddly adorable against white fur, but she suspects he’s ended up as a vampire bat. Apparently, vampire bats look like they’ve crashed face-first into a wall. Which he most likely has, but she suspects that’s no explanation for the horseshoe-shaped nose and his little squinting eyes.  It's sort of cute. If you're very, very drunk. Or if you're overly fond of a grumpy vampire.

“Nothing we need talk about,” he says hastily. He rubs a thumb over his face. “I’m sure I’ll work out how to change back in a moment.”

“You’re not stuck like this, are you?”

He casts a narrow look at her with those blood-red eyes - different, and yet so very familiar. “Darling, are you saying you wouldn’t love me if I were a rodent?”

“Astarion.”

He stretches a wing experimentally: pale, thin skin and white fingers. “I don’t… think so. There’s already a sort of - itch under my skin, like I just have to yawn hard enough and, pop. But first, I need to brood.”

“I thought only Cazador could turn into a bat.”

“Into a cloud of bats, my dear.” He gestures at himself with a folded wing, more stiffly than his usual - difficult, when your arm doesn’t bend the same way. “Do I look like a cloud?”

She can’t help her grin at that. “I don’t know. You are all white and fluffy.”

He sighs, loudly. When she reaches out a slow, careful hand, however, he doesn’t move - even in this form, he’d dodge. Or she’d get an annoyed warning nip for her trouble, she’s sure of it. Fangs are second nature to him. As is how to be gentle with them, by now.

She says, “I love your ears.” She strokes a fingertip carefully over them; they twitch underneath it. “Look at the size of them!”

“Ugh. If you’re about to make an elf joke, I have one word of advice for you: don’t.”  It’s deeply surreal watching a bat roll its eyes.

“I wasn’t! Is your hearing better like this?”

“Much.” He makes an expression that’s probably meant to be a grimace, but on a slightly squashed bat-face, it’s not so different. “I can hear the tavern three doors away. Their bard isn’t nearly so good as you.”

She strokes between his ridiculous rabbity ears, just with a finger, lightly; big as he is for a bat, he’s so tiny. Even tinier than usual. She'd hate to hurt him. “Have I mentioned I love you?”

“Yes, yes, I know you’re weak to flattery.” But there’s warmth in his voice.

“Do you want to hop up? I feel like you won’t want to turn back into yourself on the counter.”

“Please. That test flight - flights, really - was exhausting. No-one warned me there would be so much flapping. I thought creatures of the night would be fonder of a smooth glide, but no.”

She holds out an arm - and then there’s a bat clinging to her woollen shirt with thumbs and little claws. Clinging being the operative word. He climbs up her a little uncertainly, holding tight while she stays as still as she can, until he arrives on her shoulder, flopping there with a dramatic sigh.

She heads through to the lounge, and beside her ear, a small voice says, “I’ve been able to do… more, since our wriggling little unwelcome passengers were removed. I don’t know if it’s that or simply not starving. Honestly, I thought the bat thing was a myth. For spawn, anyway - we get the rather inferior part of the ‘vampire powers’ arrangement. But the claws have come back, and the agility. I’ve never felt so strong. It’s… strange. And a little intoxicating.” She can’t quite raise a brow at him when he’s so close to her, but he clearly gets the idea, because he adds hastily, “As in, I’m rather happy. Not as in ‘I’m about to become a cackling vampire lord.’ We’ve... covered that one already. It’s more - is this what it’s meant to be like? Being a spawn? Not a starved slave?” His voice is soft, with a genuine, non-snarling curiosity to it. A little amazement. She feels him shuffle just a bit closer to her, wing curling a little around her back.

Sometimes he doesn’t like to be touched when he’s thinking about the bad old days, but this clearly isn’t one of those times. At that, she has to sit in an armchair, and reach up, offering a hand to her shoulder. He clambers onto it, with the kind of instant trust that makes her chest ache - though he does give her a puzzled look while he shuffles about to get comfortable and sits on her knuckles. He folds his wings neatly, primly, in a way that’s so him she’d laugh in any other circumstance. She sneaks over her other hand and strokes his pointy pale head, runs a soothing couple of fingers over his back. She feels sad for him, but also, Lathander, he’s so fluffy. She could happily do this for a while.

The flap of wings startles her. What - ?

Being hugged by a bat is more like having a very strange necklace. One that hooks its thumbs into the back of her shirt collar, accidentally tugging it wider, ears twitching against her neck in a way that’s almost ticklish, tiny heart fluttering against her collarbone. She holds him there with a hand, thumb stroking through his fur. He murmurs, “I just wished, and this time…”

The smallest cloud of mist blooms. She blinks, and the world is suddenly rather heavier. It could be the rogue sitting side-saddle in her lap, his arms around her neck, grinning at her. He blinks in a little surprise.

“...there I was. Hello, darling.” Leaning in, he brushes a swift, smiling kiss to her cheek.

She reaches up and runs a hand through his hair, the way she knows he likes even if it ruins his pomade. “You were very cute.”

“Of course I was. I was adorable.” He winces. “Aside from looking like I’d run face-first into a carriage.”

“You were cute!”

“Hm. Good for scouting tucked-away places that the owners don’t want us to be, however.” His happiness takes on a fiendish edge.

“You’re going to pick locks with your little thumbs?” 

The idea seems to delight him rather than offend. “Once I learn how? Absolutely.” He swoons dramatically, leaning back over the chair arm. “Now, darling, I find I’ve utterly run out of energy.” He darts her a look from under his hand. “It must have been the transformation. I don’t know if I can even find it in me to stagger to bed.”

She raises a brow. “Really?”

“Really. I’m just… utterly drained. It’s a mystery.” He holds his arms out. “Would you mind?”

While she’s carrying him through to her room, she says, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh?” he asks smugly, arms still wound around her neck. “And what’s that?”

“You’re going to pull me in with you.”

Pouting, he says, “How dare you. I’ll have you know I’m an honourable man. Well. I'm a man.”

“You’re going to pull me in with you and make me cuddle you to sleep.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds disgustingly juvenile. True, but juvenile.”

“This was easier when you were less than a kilogram of fur.” Not that she minds him being a bit heavier. It’s a relief, compared to how bird-boned he sometimes felt under all the muscle in the early, hungry days.

“I can fix that.” There’s a tiny poof! and then… a self-satisfied bat fluttering awkwardly to sit on top of her head.

She reminds him, “Watch the hair while you’re surveying your kingdom.”

“I could get used to this.”

“I’m never getting used to this.”

#batstarion #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #Astarion #BG3 spoilers #bg3 epilogue spoilers #My fic #lora mctavish #Stupid ridiculous fluff (and I don't just mean how fluffy he is) #baldur's gate 3

[kpopfanfictrash]

Love to Hate (Ch. 12)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Fuck Buddies / Enemies to Lovers

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Synopsis: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: multiple orgasms (male + female), fingering, breast play, dirty talk, somewhat rough sex, oversensitivity, oral (female), cum play, sex without a condom (with other forms of birth control), spanking 

Word Count: 20,122

Seven hours. Seven hours, or four hundred and twenty minutes until you can breathe freely.

Lips pursed, you survey yourself in the warped bathroom mirror. Tonight’s launch party will last several hours, ending whenever Seokjin rounds up the final group for karaoke. You have the aquarium booked until dawn, just in case.

Twisting around, you examine yourself from behind. Although its neckline is high, the dress exposes your back, its fabric dipping low to end just above your ass. Already, you worry it’ll be too much but before you can talk yourself out of it, your phone buzzes on the counter.

Whipping around, you’re disappointed to find it’s only an email. Exhaling, you drop your phone to your clutch and exit the bathroom – only to immediately trip over Dante, splayed out on the ground. He’s utterly exhausted after your walk, which is a good thing. Hopefully, he’ll wreak less chaos at Jimin’s.

Gathering Dante’s things, you pull his leash from its hook. Olya and Hoseok arrived over an hour ago and have been playing video games at Jimin’s while you got ready. Although you’re the last one again, this time isn’t your fault. Things kept going wrong at the venue, resulting in you being the last one to leave. This cut your hair and make-up time nearly in half.

“Here we go, Dante,” you sing-song, grabbing his collar to clip. “Let’s visit Jimin! Isn’t that exciting? You like Jimin.”

Dante gives you some side-eye which says that yes, he likes Jimin, but he also sees right through you. Clipping on his leash, you stand and tug Dante towards the door.

The moment you enter the hall, you hear your friends shouting. Not in an angry way, but in the way which ensues whenever they game together. (“I said, LEFT, Jimin! As in – not right!” “The only thing not right is your memory, Hoseok, since you definitely said go right!”)

No one answers your first knock, so you try again – louder. Olya yells something at the game and you snort, since her threats are more vicious than either of the men.

Finally, on the third knock, someone hears.

“COMING,” Hoseok calls, followed by the loud thunk of his controller hitting the table. “I hope that’s you, Y/N, since we’re leaving whether you’re dressed or – ah,” he says, pulling open the door. “Good. It is you.”

Dante bolts forward the second he fits through the door, bounding across the room towards the sleeping Peaches. When she doesn’t wake, Dante takes this in stride and flops down beside her.

“What if it hadn’t been me?” you ask Hoseok, brushing past. “Your threat would’ve been wasted.”

“Never wasted,” he says. “Merely misplaced.”

Glancing upward, Olya’s eyes widen when she sees your outfit. “Damn, Y/N!” she gasps. “That dress is amazing! You look perfect and – shit, you’re ready. Okay,” she says, jumping up from the couch. “Where’s your bathroom, Jimin? I need to go before we leave.”

“First door on the left,” he says without looking up.

Olya disappears down the hall, leaving you with the rest. Not returning to the game, Hoseok stoops by the couch to gather Olya’s things. Watching him do this, you smile. It’s nice for Hoseok to be with someone – he’s usually so focused on work, he barely thinks about himself. Like calls to like, you suppose.

Turning around, Hoseok sees you watching and pauses. “What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” you sigh. “It’s just nice seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like if Olya jumped off a bridge, you’d be right behind her,” Jimin says, pressing pause on his game. Glancing upward, he blinks. “Whoa, Y/N.”

“I know!” Olya squeals, exiting the bathroom. “That’s what I’m saying! Y/N is ready to break hearts tonight.”

“No – No!” Alarmed, you shoot Hoseok a look. “That’s not the vibe I’m giving off, is it?”

Hoseok shrugs, not seeming to care either way. Offering Olya an arm, he helps her put on her shoes. “I don’t know. You look nice, Y/N.”

“Nice.” Olya wobbles. “You look more than nice, Y/N, you look hot.”

Feeling your face start to burn, you turn around. “Okay, enough,” you groan. “Let’s head out. Jimin – are you good with Dante?”

Dante, who is currently snoozing beside Peaches, doesn’t stir at his name. Jimin looks down, and then nods. “I think we’re fine,” he says. “Have fun! See you all tomorrow?”

Hoseok and Olya nod, and you give a noncommittal shrug. You still haven’t decided if you’ll want social interaction after tonight – especially not in the form of two happy couples. Jimin seems to understand, and on your way out the door, you give Dante a wave. He completely ignores this, too busy pretending to sleep beside his (one-sided) best friend.

Your descent to the lobby is treacherous, made even worse by your high heels and dress. The shoes are fine on flat surfaces, but your building’s staircase is exactly the opposite. At least these are the only stairs to climb tonight.

When you reach the front doors, you sigh in relief. Seokjin is already waiting, idling at the curb in a different car than last time. The night at Yoongi's restaurant seems ages ago, even though it was less than two weeks.

A knot in your stomach tightens. You haven’t seen Jungkook since he came to Clean Ocean and asked to become a donor. He’s attending the launch party, though – both he and Namjoon confirmed this via email. The contract between you has also been signed, neatly expedited with no objections from legal.

Except – that first part isn’t quite true.

Although you haven’t seen Jungkook since Wednesday, you’ve talked to him. At first, it was just a question he texted, clarifying a point in the contract. Then Jungkook asked if you needed help with the launch party, to which your answer was a resounding no but then he mentioned a contractor and now – absently, you scroll through your texts.

Most are professional but every now and then, something slips past which makes you wonder.

“Y/N!” Seokjin rolls down the window. “What are you doing? Get in here before you’re late to your own party.”

Returning your phone to your clutch, you hurry in. Clambering after Hoseok, you buckle your seatbelt and smooth out your dress. Olya claims the passenger seat, being prone to motion sickness. Seokjin is in the driver’s seat, his moon roof open to let in the breeze.

As he pulls from the curb, Seokjin glances in the mirror. “Damn, Y/N.” He whistles. “Is that dress work appropriate?”

Worried, you glance down. “I don’t know – is it?”

“Ignore him, Y/N.” Yanking down the mirror, Olya starts to re-apply lipstick. “The amount of leg I’m showing is way worse than your back. Don’t let them bully you.”

“Yeah,” you say, lifting your chin. “Don’t bully me, Seokjin.”

Seokjin bats his eyelashes. “Who, me?” Before you can respond, his gaze moves to Hoseok. “Olya has a point, though. Hoseok – why aren’t you showing as much leg as your girlfriend?”

“Hers are far superior to mine.”

Still touching up her makeup, Olya reaches over the console and squeezes Hoseok’s thigh. Hiding a grin, you lean back in your seat as Seokjin turns up his music. A Top 40 pop song blares but after a while, you somehow find your phone returned to your lap.

Open to your texts.

Your finger hovering above a certain thread.

You know Jungkook hasn’t texted. You know this and yet, a tiny voice in your mind wonders what-if. What-if Jungkook has decided not to come, what if he reneges his RSVP, what-if –

You press on the thread.

Stomach dropping, you see you were right – Jungkook hasn’t texted. His last messages are displayed onscreen and, absent-minded, you scroll.

Jungkook: you know what concept has always eluded me? [Friday, 1:07 AM]

Y/N: sleep? [Friday, 7:02 AM]

Jungkook: always. But no – I was referring to the dress code. What, exactly, does ‘dressy casual’ mean? Isn’t that an oxymoron? [Friday, 7:31 AM]

Y/N: Google is free, Jeon [Friday, 8:10 AM]

Y/N: okay, so Olya says ‘dressy casual’ means a combination of relaxed and formal. Basically, no jeans but you can be more casual than black tie [Friday, 8:14 AM]

Jungkook: got it [Friday, 8:20 AM]

Jungkook: I lied. That doesn’t help at all [Friday, 9:05 AM]

Y/N: lol what do you mean? What are you stuck on? [Friday, 9:42 AM]

Jungkook: Is a suit too dressy? [Friday, 9:50 AM]

Y/N: depends on the suit. Send me a pic [Friday, 9:53 AM]

Jungkook: *jpeg* [Friday, 9:55 AM]

Paused on the photo, your breath catches again. Looking at it now is as devastating as the first time. Jungkook must have worked from home on Friday since you recognize the tile of his bathroom behind him.

The photo is only from the neck down, but the way Jungkook fills out his suit is exquisite. The color is black, but lace panels dress up the white shirt beneath it, and several buttons are undone. The overall effect is devastating.

In your ear, Hoseok whistles. “Who’s sending you pics, Y/N?”

Startled, you fumble and nearly drop your phone.

“No one,” you blurt, your face burning.

Seokjin’s ears perk up in the front. “Y/N is looking at nudes in a car full of people?” He sounds overly gleeful about the possibility. “I guess that’s one way to relax.”

“I’m not looking at nudes. Jungkook asked for my thoughts on his suit – that’s all.”

“Jungkook?” Olya turns, surprised. “Are you talking about our new donor, Jungkook?”

Frozen in the backseat, you realize your mistake. Although you’re friends with Olya, you were trying your best to keep the Jungkook mess separate from work. It’s bad enough you have to work with him going forward without all of your employees knowing you messed up.

“I – we, uh, know each other,” you say.

“Ah.” Olya adopts a sly grin. “Nice. He’s hot.”

Hoseok’s smile abruptly disappears. “Why don’t we change the topic? Y/N has enough to worry about without thinking of Jungkook.”

Thankful, you nod and Olya leans over the console to pat Hoseok’s knee.

“It’s cute when you’re jealous,” she says before she pulls back.

Hoseok stares, and then sputters, “I’m not… jealous! Objectively, Jungkook is hot.”

“Can we please stop talking about him?” you beg, a bit pained.

Olya winces, mouthing sorry before facing forward. Returning your phone to your clutch, you stare out the window as Seokjin turns up the volume. His playlist has lapsed into what sounds like pop-ified sea shanties, something you deem oddly fitting with the night ahead. You’ve nearly pushed the topic of Jungkook from mind when –

“So.” Seokjin sounds like he’s holding back laughter. “Jungkook sent you a suit pic?”

You slump low in your seat. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something,” Hoseok says. “I saw a bunch of your texts while you scrolled. You were talking all day to him on Friday.”

“Hey!” you huff. “Privacy, Hobi.”

“The man asked you what he should wear, though,” Seokjin says.

“And? He didn’t understand the dress code.”

“Didn’t understand the – okay.” Seokjin snorts. “Y/N, that man has been attending formal gatherings since he was old enough to sit up. Jungkook knows what to wear when the invite says dressy casual.”

These words give you pause, since Seokjin is right. You aren’t sure why you didn’t think of this before. Maybe part of you felt it was simply more believable than thinking Jungkook texted you to talk.

“Maybe it’s been a while,” Olya says, defending you. “I’m sure whatever Y/N thinks is correct. She knows him best, after all.”

You smile at Olya, grateful for the interjection. Mercifully, Seokjin allows the matter to drop, turning his head to stare at the road. You, on the other hand, turn the matter over in your mind. No matter what people do, you always tend to assume the worst.

It’s far easier to assume this and be surprised than assume something positive and be let down. Objectively, the fact that Jungkook texted you is a good sign. Much easier to believe it’s coincidental than he actually likes you.

Even if he does though, you can’t allow yourself to be drawn in. Not when so much is riding on tonight’s party. You need to be one hundred percent focused, and Jungkook is nothing but a distraction.

A ridiculously gorgeous distraction who might return your feelings.

Pushing this hopelessly from mind, the rest of the ride passes and soon enough, you pass beneath the aquarium’s arch. Seokjin drops you off at the front since no one is wearing the right shoes for cobblestones. Already, you run through an endless to-do list in your mind – but the moment you enter, all of it fades.

When you left earlier, the venue was a work in progress. The hanging trellis was only half-lifted, none of the lights were lit and packaging material cluttered the floor. Now, you step into paradise.

The tanks on the walls cast blueish green light, its effect softened by golden orbs hanging from the ceiling. Between the lights, greenery drapes to give the impression of algae, as though the dance floor itself has sunk underwater. To your right, double doors lead to a patio with a view of the ocean.

Staring in awe, you turn in a full circle.

Hoseok comes to a stop. “Whoa,” he breathes. “You really outdid yourself tonight, Olya.”

Beaming, she waves. “It was nothing.”

“It was something,” you argue. “This place is absolutely gorgeous, Olya. Our donors will love it.”

“Hopefully, they love it so much they cough up more money.” She laughs. “Okay, enough with the compliments. I need to check about a thousand things before guests start arriving – Hoseok, are you coming with?”

He nods and follows suit, glancing at you to ensure you’re alright. You wave him off with a nod, returning to your mental task list. Guests will start arriving in an hour, which is no time at all.

After speaking to catering – not Min Yoongi, unfortunately – checking the sound system, and running through a list of approved songs with the DJ, you stop by the bar to catch your breath. Pulling your phone from your clutch, you’re about to check texts when someone calls your name.

Glancing upward, you spot Olya rushing across the floor. She moves like a woman on a mission and slowly, you return your phone without looking.

 “Y/N,” Olya says, skidding to a stop. “Thank god I caught you.”

You stare at her, bewildered. “I’m here all night, Olya – is something wrong?”

“I -well.” She straightens. “Nothing is wrong, exactly. It’s just I was checking the guest list – searching for last-minute cancellations, that sort of thing.”

“Okay…”

Her lips tighten. “I wasn’t thinking earlier. I was so caught up in arriving, I didn’t think but now, when I saw the list again, it hit me.”

“What hit you?” you ask, dread unspooling like thread in your stomach.

“I gave Jungkook a plus one.”

“And?”

“And.” Olya sighs. “Jungkook said yes. He said yes for him plus a date. Which means he’s planning to bring someone this evening.”

Staring at Olya, every sound seems to fade. Reality steps forward to burst your bubble. Jungkook is bringing someone. Jungkook is bringing a date. After donating to Clean Ocean like a goddamn knight in shining armor, he’s decided to bring someone to the fundraiser he saved.

Self-blame instantly kicks into high gear. If you’d only been honest with him earlier, responded in a more expressive tone, maybe he would have – but no. Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to calm.  

The two of you go around and around, and no one ever wins. You didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt, he didn’t ask, and you both end up hurting each other. If Jungkook is here with a date, you’ll deal with it, just like you have with everything else. He’s not the most important part of tonight.

Either way, you need to make it through the party in one piece. You can figure out what to do about Jungkook tomorrow.

“I’m so sorry,” Olya says, wringing her hands. “I debated whether or not to tell you, but figured you finding out now was better than Jungkook showing up and –”

“No – no,” you interrupt. “You’re right. It’s better I know now. We gave him a plus one, right?” you add, injecting your words with false cheeriness. “He’s fully entitled to use it.”

Olya hesitates. “I mean, debatable. He didn’t have to bring someone. Whether you’re together or not, he’s been texting you all week. It’s rude to bring someone else!”

“Maybe,” you sigh. Your next words are more difficult. “But despite how I feel about him, we’re not dating. We haven’t been… anything for a long time. It was nice of Jungkook to donate, but it wasn’t romantic. I – I actually need to go check something,” you say, choking a little.

With a sympathetic glance, Olya nods and steps aside. Clearly, she understands your retreat for what it is – a hasty excuse for running away.

Entering the nearest bathroom, you pause at the mirror as you’re struck by an immediate sense of déjà vu. The last time this happened was at your parents’ party. That night, you vowed to forget about Jungkook and now, here you are. Stuck in the same situation.

Stiffening, you meet your own gaze. No – that’s not true. Back then, you were crushed by a situation of your own making. Tonight, you have the chance to make things right. Strengthened by the thought, you stay long enough to gather yourself and then leave – only to walk straight into Seokjin.

He seems to have come straight from Olya, and it takes nearly ten minutes to convince Seokjin you’re fine. (“You can kill him after the party, Seokjin, I swear.” “Why not now?” “Death will be equally satisfying at a location where I have plausible deniability.” “Don’t care.” “Think about Yoongi! Would he really go out with the guy suspected of murdering his best friend?”)

“First of all,” Seokjin declares. “I’m too good to be suspected of anything. But fine! If you really want, I’ll pull back. Just say the word, though.”

“I appreciate that, Seokjin,” you say. “But right now, I have to go host this event.”

“Ah – right.” He nods, slightly chastised. “Fair enough.”

Stepping aside, Seokjin sheepishly allows you to return to the list. Your remaining minutes are spent triple-checking the guests, stopping again to chat with security and adjusting the timing of the hors d’oeuvres. By the time you find Olya, your first guest is arriving, and you’ve barely had time to think about Jungkook.

Or – this is so until you’re confronted by a black, shiny town car pulling to the curb. Stomach sinking, you prepare for his appearance, only for Javier and his husband to step from the car.

Breaking into a smile, you wave, and they walk towards you.

“Well, I never.” Javier smiles, taking hold of your hand. “This place looks stunning, Y/N.”

Glancing around, you can’t help but agree. “Thank you,” you say, ushering them in. “And hello to you, too, Alex. I’m afraid I can’t take any credit for tonight, though,” you add as you enter the main room. “The theme is all Olya.”

“When I see her, I’ll sing her praises,” laughs Javier. “But don’t forget tonight is an accomplishment for you, too! Do you remember our first fundraiser?” he adds, turning to Alex.

Alex nods. “That little bar off the highway. How could I forget?”

Both laugh in remembrance.

“In the back of that gas station!” Javier tsks. “Shut down, I hear. But look at you now! Renting an entire aquarium – Clean Ocean has certainly come a long way.”

“It’s a shock to me, too,” you say, turning to face them.

Wryly, Javier shakes his head. “Your success will never surprise me, Y/N. If anyone has the ability to change the world, it would be you.”

Face heating, you find yourself unable to think of a response. One isn’t necessary though as, realizing other guests have arrived, Alex and Javier say goodbye and head for the bar. Nerves flood your stomach, anticipating Jungkook again but instead, Indra Gupta and his wife appear through the door.

“Y/N!” he calls, heading for you. “What a splendid night! Jaya and I are thrilled to be here – we can’t thank you enough for inviting us.”

“Of course,” you say, shaking their hands. “Thank you both for coming.”

When they pull back, there’s a pause until Jaya coughs. Hastily, Indra reaches inside his coat pocket to withdraw an envelope.

“I almost forgot,” he says, handing this over. “I felt bad attending a second Clean Ocean event without any sort of donation, so please find enclosed our contract. My office will contact you Monday to arrange the details – for next year,” he adds, noticing your expression. “I know you needed funds now, but we’re unfortunately all fiscally tied up.”

“No – no, that’s fine,” you say, taking the envelope. “I’m excited to have you as a future donor. And please, don’t worry about the funding right now – we found the money.”

“Oh, how wonderful,” Jaya exclaims.

Indra perks up. “Anyone I know?”

“Indra,” she laughs, swatting his arm. “We’re monopolizing the poor woman. Thank you again for inviting us,” she adds. “Now, let’s get you a drink. Lovely to see you again, Y/N!”

“Thank you,” you call as they leave. “Truly.”

They also disappear towards the bar, leaving you somewhat dazed. Eventually, you come to and stride across the floor in search of Olya. Guests are still arriving, and it wouldn’t do to lose Indra’s proposal before you can sign.

Finding her by the kitchen, you hand Olya the contract, and she promises to take good care of it. By the time you return, enough people have arrived to form a line at the bar. Setting to work, you put on your best host smile to greet your guests.

Nearly an hour passes before you have time for a break. Sagging against the nearest bar, you pull out your phone to double-check the guest list. Based on your internal count, nearly everyone has arrived.

Everyone – but one.

Pushing thoughts of Jungkook away, you accept the glass of champagne handed to you by the bartender. Taking a slow sip, you turn around to scan the party.

Most of your attendees have escaped to the patio, making this your next stop. Heading in this direction, you pause beneath the arch to take in the view. Far below you, waves crash against the sand in a muffled roar. Ahead of you, moonlight cuts through glittering ocean waves.

You aren’t the only one amazed by the view; most people stand about you in groups, chatting happily while the moon rises. At least no one will call your event boring, you think as you move – only to stop dead in your tracks, spotting a familiar profile.

Abruptly, you whirl and plunge into the crowd.

Heading in the opposite direction, you drain your champagne and set the empty glass down. Reaching the railing, your hands clutch at the metal, willing your heartbeat to slow.

Several moments pass before your breathing steadies. Exhaling lowly, you stare into the waves. Sure, you can hobnob with the rich and famous but throw one ex-whatever-Jungkook-is into the mix and you immediately flee. No matter how prepared you thought you were, a part of you can’t stand seeing him with someone else.

When someone enters your peripheral, you go still. After a long moment, you turn and are flooded with relief when you find Seokjin before you.

Taking a long sip of his whiskey, he stares at the waves. “Jungkook is here.”

“Ah.”

“Inside, I think.”

“Right.” Bolstering your nerves, you nod. “Is he here with his date?”

Seokjin glances your way, his hair whipped by the wind. “I didn’t see, but I heard someone mention he came with a woman.”

“I see.”

You stay there for a moment, debating what to do before realizing it’s now or never. If you wait any longer, you’ll convince yourself to go home. Besides, waiting for Jungkook to find you is passive. By seeking him out, you place yourself in the driver’s seat.

Seokjin watches you carefully. “Are you alright?”

“I will be,” you say. “After I go greet Jungkook and his guest.”

“You seem… oddly calm,” he observes.

“I am calm.”

“Not a good calm.” Seokjin pauses. “Serial killer calm.”

Subtle, you lift a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re suddenly concerned about Jungkook’s well-being?”

“I’m not,” he assures you. “But I like you, Y/N. It’d be a shame if you went to prison.”

“Thanks.”

“Because you wouldn’t survive.”

“Okay,” you say, turning around. “That’s enough of a pep talk. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye!” Seokjin calls, waving you off. “Good luck!”

Striding away, you leave Seokjin behind to enter the crowd. Externally, you hope you portray a façade of total calm because on the inside, you’re sweating. Each mental scenario is worse than the last, replacing each other in your mind like bad movie reels.

What-if Jungkook decided to bring Giselle, the woman from the fundraiser. What-if he brought someone from work – someone who’s strong, successful, and not afraid of commitment, unlike you.

Stomach dropping, you force yourself to continue. Each step you take is instantly forgotten, fading to past as you face your future. Inside, you scan the length of the aquarium. Every person you pass you half-expect to see Jungkook and when they’re not, you find yourself disappointed.

Wandering further in, you say hello to several guests and greet their plus ones. By the time you’ve made a full lap, you’re starting to wonder if Seokjin’s intel was right – which is the moment you see him.

Feet stuttering to a halt, you stare when Jungkook fully appears. A couple drifts past you, previously concealing him from your view. Greenish-blue light washes over his features, blurring his face when he looks away.

You wish you’d had foresight to refill your glass since Jungkook isn’t alone. Turned away, he responds to someone by his side – a petite, demure someone, by the looks of it since they barely reach Jungkook’s shoulder. Forcing yourself to keep walking, you take several steps forward.

At this point, there’s no other option. Either you run and they see you, which would be humiliating, or you continue, and they greet you, which will be devastating.

Stuck in a difficult situation, all you can do is walk. You’re close enough to hear then, when Jungkook throws his head back to laugh. The sound stops you again, staring at him in confusion. Out of anything that could have happened, him laughing is the worst. Laughter means his date knows Jungkook well enough to make him laugh.

Which means she’s important.

Stomach roiling, you consider whether to flee when Jungkook suddenly turns and locks eyes.

Surprise crosses his features, followed by something you don’t understand. You stare back at him, frozen until you realize you need to do something.

“Mr. Jeon,” you intone, closing the distance between you. “Thank you so much for coming. I want to personally thank you for–”

“Y/N,” Jungkook blurts, finding his voice.

You falter, thrown by his excitement.

“I’m so glad you found us,” he hastens, “because there’s someone here I want you to meet.”

“Oh?” you say, careful.

Although it’s been weeks since you and Jungkook were anything, this feels like a strange level of enthusiasm for having his current date meet his ex, well – whatever you are.

Stepping back, Jungkook reveals the woman standing by his side. “Y/N, this is my aunt – Jeanette Mason. Aunt Jeanette, this is Y/N, the owner of Clean Ocean.”

His aunt. This is Jeanette Mason, Jungkook’s aunt.

Time seems to slow. The woman standing before you is older than Jungkook by at least thirty years. Not that this means anything, but she’s holding his elbow in a maternal gesture and again, Jungkook introduced her as his aunt.

“Mrs. Mason,” you repeat, your words faint.

Jeanette gives her nephew a sly look. “I know who she is, Kookie,” she scolds, patting his hand. “Am I, or am I not, the one who set you up?”

Cheeks turning slightly red, Jungkook lowers his head. “You can’t just say things like that,” he mutters in her ear.

“And why not?” she demands, not bothering to lower her voice. “It’s lovely to meet you at last, Y/N. I hear such wonderful things about you from your mother.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “From my… mother?”

Seeing your expression, she can’t help but laugh. “Yes, well.” Jeanette shrugs. “What I deem to be wonderful, and what your mother deems to be wonderful are two rather different things, I suppose. Your mother is quite the opinionated woman, is she not?”

“She… yes, she is,” you manage to say.

“I’ve known your mother for a long time. She’s mentioned her daughter before – usually in exasperated tones, mind you, over your wonderful charity. And the very first person I thought of was my nephew.” Beaming, Jeanette turns to face Jungkook. “He always used to go on about the ocean and the environment when he was younger.”

“Oh?” you muse, glancing at Jungkook. “Is that so?”

Jungkook seems as though he wishes the earth would swallow him whole. He must not have anticipated how his aunt could embarrass him, which makes you smile.

Forlorn, his aunt sighs. “It’s a shame you two didn’t hit it off. I know so many people think Jungkook is like his father, but he has nothing in common with that cold man. He’s so much more like his mother. An absolute angel, that woman.”

“I’ve heard that,” you say softly. “And I agree, he is wonderful.”

Sharply, Jungkook looks at you and some of his color fades. Unable to hold his gaze, you force yourself to look elsewhere.

“Well.” Jeanette drains her glass. “It was very nice meeting you, Y/N. Jungkook has been talking my ear off about how wonderful you are.”

Loudly, he clears his throat. “You mean how wonderful Clean Ocean is – right, Aunt Jeanette?”

Jeanette shrugs, looking as though she couldn’t care either way. Stifling a laugh, you rather enjoy the rare sight of Jungkook flustered.

More than that though, you’re forced to rethink the situation. Jungkook didn’t bring a date tonight. Or – he brought a date but not a romantic one. Instead, he brought the single family member he still has a good relationship with and wanted you to meet her.

All night, you’ve imagined the two of you stuck in a loop, playing the same game over and over but now, you see you were wrong. This is different. Jungkook has been trying to tell you something all week and the moment you realize this, you make your decision.

“Actually,” you say abruptly. “Do you mind if I steal your nephew, Jeanette? There are a few donors I’d like him to meet.”

“Of course!” She waves you both away. “I was planning to head out soon, anyways. Always leave them wanting more, and all that. I’ll see you next weekend, Kookie.”

“Are you sure?” Leaning down, Jungkook kisses her cheek. “I can have my driver take you home.”

“Nonsense,” she says. “I have my own driver, darling. He’d be bored stiff without me. Have fun!” she calls, turning around to melt into the crowd.

Jungkook watches her leave, a faint look of amusement on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, turning towards you. “I didn’t ask her to –”

“Can we talk?” you blurt out.

Jungkook stops and blinks. “I – okay, sure. About what?”

“In private,” you say, shaking your head as you turn.

In the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook follow. Your heart is thudding so loudly, you’re certain he must hear it. You’re sure everyone must hear it, even over the music but somehow, no one notices. Every now and again, you look back to ensure Jungkook is following.

He is.

Your original intent was to bring Jungkook to the entrance, but when you find the space occupied, you continue. Entering the next hall, you search for some privacy. Both footsteps echo on marble, the noise thinning around you as you leave the party.

Around the next bend, the hall empties into an aquarium with a domed ceiling.

“Uh, Y/N?”

Turning, you find Jungkook beside a sign that reads closed. One hand in his pocket, he looks at you and smiles, and you nearly melt.

“Yes?” you whisper, not daring to move.

He glances at the sign. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.”

“We rented this entire place,” you say, turning around. “That includes this room. Olya put up those signs to discourage guests from roaming.”

“Oh. Okay, then.”

Leaving Jungkook at the entrance, you wander in. The dome above you is fully glass, surrounding you on all sides with water from the aquarium. Colorful fish dart past, twisting and turning before they disappear into coral. Feeling slightly silly for having brought Jungkook here, you force yourself to stop.

His footsteps continue until Jungkook stops alongside you. The shape of him is clear in your peripheral and it takes everything in you not to turn your head.

“They don’t bite,” you say, staring at the tank.

“I know.” Jungkook’s voice is rough. “They’re not the reason I’m nervous right now.”

Uncertain, you turn and meet his gaze. The moment you do, all the words you had planned somehow disappear.

Jungkook exhales. “I’m scared,” he admits, quiet. “Scared you brought me here to reject me. Scared you saw right through me out there and are trying to let me down easy where no one can see us.”

Hearing this, it’s all you can do to remain upright. Jungkook being afraid you might reject him means there’s something to reject.

“I’m scared I’m being an idiot,” he continues, stepping closer. “Scared I’m reading into signs that aren’t there, imagining you feel the same way about me when you obviously don’t.”

Jungkook stops mere inches away and you realize he’s waiting for a response. All you can think though, is what if you’re wrong.

“And…?” you ask him. “What is it you feel for me?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Jungkook looks at you, tortured. “It feels… like I can breathe. Like I’ve been trapped my whole life but with you, I can finally breathe. I’m not creative, but you make me want to be. To write songs – poetry, just to hear you laugh. You make me ramble,” he adds, his voice catching. “I’m scared of confessing this but the thought of losing you again scares me even more. I want everyone to know how I feel – especially you, Y/N.”

You stare back at him, speeches and wonder if there comes a point when joy is too much. When happiness is akin to pain since you know at one point, this feeling must end.

Stepping closer, Jungkook’s hands skim your elbows. “Please,” he adds, searching. “Please, Y/N. Say something and put me out of my misery.”

It’s the way he says please that breaks the dam inside you.

“You’re not imagining things,” you whisper, the words rushing out. “Everything you said… I feel it, too, Jungkook. I’ve been falling for you ever since the night we watched Ted Lasso.”

Incredulousness enters his gaze. “That long, huh?”

Scoffing, you move to swat his arm, but Jungkook catches your hand and tugs you closer. Smiling down at you, he wraps both arms around your waist.

“I’m kidding,” he says. “I’ve been falling for you since Chez Moi, Chez Toi. Although I didn’t realize it until later.”

“Our first date?” you ask him, amazed.

Jungkook nods. “I don’t have much experience with all this. It took me a while to understand what I was feeling.”

“Which was when?”

“When you stayed at my place.” His face softens. “I saw you in my t-shirt and just… knew something about this was different. I barely thought twice before sending my date home. Even then, I didn’t want to admit it. I don’t think I really understood until I woke up in your bed.”

“You were better than me,” you admit. “I didn’t realize until Aleve.”

Visible frustration crosses his features. “That night.” Jungkook shakes his head. “I was such an ass– I’m so sorry about it, Y/N. It’s just… when I saw you with him… it brought back all these memories, and I didn’t handle it very well.”

You stare at him a long moment, then exhale. “It’s okay. I understand. I – well, I spoke with Yoongi.”

Rather than seem surprised by this reveal, Jungkook merely nods. “I know,” he says softly.

“You… know?”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“Since when?” you demand.

His upper lip quirks. “Since Thursday. After seeing you, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, so I went to complain about it to Yoongi – and barely got your name out before he exploded.” Jungkook lets out a laugh. “He called me an idiot and said I should confess before I lost you completely. The truth came out after that,” he adds, a bit dry.

“I’m… so sorry,” you blurt, shaking your head. “I didn’t tell him to say that. I didn’t mean to go behind your back the way I did, it’s just –”

“You weren’t getting any answers from me,” Jungkook finishes.

Helpless, you nod.

“I get it, Y/N,” he says, his grip tightening. “I’m not mad, I promise. If anything, I’m glad you went to Yoongi because it gave me hope. It made me think…” Jungkook hesitates. “That maybe you cared for me, too.”

“God,” you mutter. “We’ve been such idiots.”

He sadly smiles. “Me, more than you.”

“We can call it a tie.”

Laughing, Jungkook moves closer, and everything else seems to fade. His presence overwhelms you in a way that makes your mind go quiet. Unthinking, your gaze drops to his mouth. Suddenly, you’re very aware of each part of your body pressed to his.

“We…” Jungkook licks his lips. “We should probably head back.”

Despite this, his voice roughens, and you suppress a shiver. Tentatively, you lift one hand to splay across his chest. Jungkook’s gaze dips to your palm on his fabric.

“Probably,” you agree.

“Except…” Subtle, Jungkook lowers his head. “We’ve waited a long time to get our shit together.”

“That’s also true.”

“Mm.” He stops. “There’s just one problem.”

“Problem?” you say, dazed by his proximity.

“Yeah.” Tilting his head, his lips nearly brush yours. “If I start kissing you, I won’t be able to stop.”

“And that’s a bad thing, because…?”

“We’re currently in public.”

“In public.”

“At an event that you’re hosting.”

“Hosting,” you repeat, reduced to a parrot.

Jungkook chuckles. “People will notice,” he murmurs, although his hand continues to caress your waist, “if you go missing. And I don’t want to be rushed. I plan to take my time with you tonight.”

His last word is a growl, said lowly in your ear and immediately, your breath catches. Hand fisting in his jacket, you attempt to move even closer, but Jungkook stays maddeningly separate.

Huffing, you look up. “I didn’t think you were the type to back down from a challenge, Jeon.”

“Are you giving me one, princess?”

Boldly, you close the distance between you. Jungkook’s reaction is instantaneous, his entire body stiffening but before you can move, his hand finds your chin.

“Careful,” he warns, tilting your face to his.

“Come on, Jeon.” Sweetly, you smile. “Be stronger.”

“Impossible,” he mutters. “Not with you around.”

Before you can react to this, his lips are on yours. Jungkook’s hand roughly slides from your jaw to your neck, pulling you closer as you melt against him. Heart hammering, your fingers curl tightly into the lapels of his jacket. Each place you touch him feels aflame and at the same time, you’re drowning, sinking into his presence.

When you finally pull back, Jungkook bites down on your lip. Gasping, you arch and he claims your mouth again. He swallows your whimper, walking the two of you backwards until your spine touches glass.

Keeping you upright, his muscular thigh wedges between yours. Trying to get closer, you knock your head against the glass – and Jungkook goes utterly still.

 “Y/N,” he groans, ripping himself away. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Still struggling to catch your breath, you stare back at him. Jungkook hasn’t stepped back, a fact which hasn’t escaped your notice. When you arch against him, Jungkook pushes his hips against yours.

“Careful,” he murmurs, pressing you to the tank. “Unless you want to be fucked right here and right now. I wouldn’t overestimate my self-control.”

Lips parted, you stare and Jungkook can’t help but grin. It’s hard not to melt because his smile is your favorite – and only now are you realizing that’s because it’s solely for you.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Nothing.” Slowly, you shake your head. “I’m just… happy.”

If you thought you loved Jungkook’s smile before, you were wrong. Eyes crinkled, his smile widens, and now, you fear for your life. For the life of everyone at this party because dear lord, Jungkook is perfect.

“I can’t imagine why,” he says. “I’m the lucky one.”

“Agree to disagree.”

His grip on you tightens and you expect him to kiss you again, but he doesn’t. Instead, Jungkook merely stands there, and you wonder if this is what people mean when they speak about happiness. When they mention perfect moments, understanding another without words – this must be what they speak of.

Eventually, you glance past him. “We should probably return.”

“Probably,” he agrees, although he still doesn’t move. “It’s not fair, though. Those people have had your attention all night.”

“And you’ll have the rest of it,” you tease him. “Right after I figure out a way to leave without telling the whole party, ‘Hey, my boyfriend is about to fuck me silly.’”

Jungkook releases you and you start to walk past, only to realize he still hasn’t moved. Puzzled, you turn.

“Jungkook?” you ask. “Did you… not want to do that tonight?”

“That’s not it.” Dazed, he turns his head. “It’s just … you called me your boyfriend.”

Your entire world stops.

“Oh.

Frantic, you backpedal and search for a way out. Obviously, that was too much, too soon – you aren’t sure why you said it, other than the fact that it’s true. You want Jungkook as more than just a fuck buddy, more than just a friend.

For the first time in a very long time, you want to say boyfriend, but Jungkook is new to all this, and you don’t want to scare him away.

“I didn’t mean that,” you hasten, stepping forward. “I was just talking out loud, and I didn’t –”

“No,” Jungkook interrupts. “Don’t take it back. I want that. I really want that. It’s just… it was nice to hear you say it.” An embarrassed smile spreads over his face. “Say it again?”

All the tension drains from your limbs. “Say what?” you tease. “Say you’re my boyfriend?”

Jungkook’s gaze darkens. “I thought you didn’t want me to fuck you right here and right now?”

Heat pools in your center and it’s all you can do not to crush his mouth to yours. An inkling of self-preservation prevents you from doing so, because Jungkook is right. People would notice if you suddenly disappeared.

Still, it doesn’t keep you from lifting to your toes. Lips hovering at his ear, you feel Jungkook’s entire body go taut when you whisper, “Your aunt will want to say goodbye.”

Roughly, he exhales, and you laugh when you pull back.

“Please,” Jungkook groans. His expression is half-amusement, half-pain. “Let’s not talk about my aunt right now.”

“Come on,” you say. “Let’s go and say goodbye.”

“Just – give me a moment.”

Patient, you wait while Jungkook screws his eyes shut. Several seconds pass until finally, he opens them and some of the heat has dissipated.

“Okay, I’m ready,” he declares.

Before you can respond, Jungkook takes your hand in his and pulls you away. You try and savor each, since you’ll soon need to part, but time seems to blur, buoyed by your happiness. All too soon, you’ve reached the entrance and Jungkook is turning to face you.

Continuing to hold your hand, he glances over your shoulder. In the aquarium, someone laughs, and you’re reminded again why you can’t leave just yet.

Jungkook exhales, somewhat mournful. “We timed this terribly.”

“Okay,” you announce. “Here’s the deal.”

Returning to you, his lips twitch. “Deal?”

“Yep.” You force yourself to sound stern. “I’ll go in now. Give me a five-minute head start, and then follow. I’ll talk to a few donors, chat with a few sponsors and then –”

“We meet back here for aquarium sex?”

“Stop that,” you laugh, swatting his arm. “No. And then, we meet out front at eleven. Okay?”

Jungkook adopts a look of mock-anguish. “Why so late?”

You can’t help but smile. “Wish it were sooner?”

“Don’t tease me,” he says, voice dropping. “I thought I was clear about my plans for you for tonight.”

“Plans?”

Jungkook takes a step closer. “Nice try,” he murmurs, lowering his head. “You’ll find out later tonight. Now, go – the sooner you leave, the sooner you come back.”

Reluctant, you turn. “I’ll be back soon,” you promise. “Five-minute head start. Don’t forget.”

Before you can leave, Jungkook’s hand catches your wrist, and he pulls you backwards. Kissing you deeply, he molds your body to his and by the time he lifts his head, you’re rendered speechless.

His gaze bores into yours. “Eleven. No later.”

Unable to think of a response, you nod. It takes every ounce of your self-possession to turn and walk away. When you finally enter the main room, you take a deep breath to focus.

Several new guests have arrived, and you’re only on your second when you realize your mistake. Now that you have Jungkook waiting, you’re finding it difficult to string sentences together. Nearly mixing up the names of two donors, you’re saved from embarrassment by Hoseok’s sudden appearance.

Grasping your wrist, he pulls you closer. “We need to talk,” Hoseok hisses, smiling balefully at the others. “Apologies, everyone, but I need to steal Y/N for a minute.”

Ignoring the ensuing chorus of no problem! and of course, Hoseok leads you away until you’re both concealed behind a potted plant. Turning, he drags a hand down his face, and you look on in alarm. Originally, you thought this might be about Jungkook, but no longer.

“Hoseok, what is it?” you demand.

Resigned, he meets your gaze. “Your parents are here.”

Hoseok might as well have said elephants have arrived. Neither sentence would make sense in the context of Clean Ocean.

“My… what?”

“Your parents,” Hoseok repeats. “They’re here. Olya wasn’t near the front, and the bouncer wasn’t sure what to do, so he let them in.”

“But…” You stare at him, flummoxed. “That makes no sense. Why are they here?”

“I don’t know. To offer congratulations?”

The laugh you give sounds like a wheeze. “These are my parents, we’re talking about.”

“Right, well.” He looks at you, helpless. “Only way to find out is to ask them, I guess.”

Staring at Hoseok, you wait for the rising wave of panic which always accompanies the presence of your family and feel – nothing.

For the first time, you’re confident that whatever mischief your parents have in mind won’t affect you. Clean Ocean is doing well. You and Jason are solid. You have great friends, a good life and – a boyfriend, waiting for you outside at eleven.

Insides warming, you can’t help but smile – something that swiftly disappears when you look at Hoseok. Based on his expression, he seems to be worried you’re having a nervous breakdown.

“Alright,” you say, straightening. “Where are they?”

“Patio. Last I saw, anyways. Want me to come with?”

“No thanks,” you exhale. “They’re my parents. I can handle them.”

Hoseok examines you carefully, then nods and steps aside. He’s long learned not to mess with your familial ties after attending several parties where your parents ignored him. Striding through the main room, you force your expression to neutrality and run through potential options.

Maybe your parents are here because of an important donor. Maybe they came to look good in the papers. Or maybe (most likely) it’s unknown option three which will leave you reeling and nauseous in a way only they can. Stepping onto the patio, you scan for the signs of impending doom.

A breeze rolls in from the ocean, prickling the hair on the back of your neck. Not seeing them, you walk forward – and Jason steps in your path.

“Y/N,” he blurts out. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Instantly, your eyes narrow and you grab his arm. “Why didn’t you warn me they were coming?” you hiss, leaning in.

“I didn’t know!” Jason protests. “Mom texted they were here when I stepped from my car. I’ve been searching all over for you but couldn’t find you. Hoseok didn’t know where you were, either,” he adds, giving you a questioning glance.

Careful to keep your expression blank, you fall into step alongside him. “Busy night. I’ve been running around.”

“Right. Sure.”

The look Jason gives you makes you sweat a little but before he can say anything, the sound of your mother cuts above the crowd.

“Y/N! Darling,” she cries, appearing from nowhere.

Grimacing, you lean in for the double-kiss, disentangling yourself before she can follow up with a hug. This is when your mother loves to whisper her disapproving comments in your ear. Smile in place, you step from her grasp and turn towards your father.

“Mom and dad,” you say brightly. “I didn’t realize you were coming. Did something change in your plans?”

Stepping backwards, your mother sips her champagne. “Nothing changed, Y/N. I’m positive I told Miranda to reply to your RSVP. And even if she forgot – which would be typical – is it so surprising we’d like to support our only daughter?”

Rather than offer an uncharitable response, you nod.

“It was nice of you to come,” Jason agrees. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

Your mother glances at the patio. “That DJ is too loud. He’s going to burst someone’s eardrum, and I’m sure their insurance won’t cover third parties. Did you take out an umbrella policy?” she asks, not waiting for an answer before she continues. “Other than that, the night has been tolerable. There’s an almost respectable crowd here. I know most of the guest list.”

Knowing your mother, she meant this as a compliment. Still, you find yourself wishing you’d at least had the foresight to grab another drink.

“And what about you, dad?” Jason asks, sounding strained. “Are you enjoying the evening?”

Your father blinks, as though startled by being addressed directly.

“Yes – oh, yes,” he says with a nod. “Very nice.”

A pause follows, so Jason continues.

“It is,” he says proudly. “Y/N worked so hard to pull this together. I mean, when she said Infinity Motors pulled out, even I was panicking. The fact that this launch party is happening is nothing short of a miracle.”

Hearing this, your mother looks at you sharply. “What did your brother say? Liam is no longer a donor of Clean Ocean?”

Wincing, Jason realizes his mistake but it’s too late. Seeing no easy way out, you adopt your most neutral expression.

“Yes,” you exhale, turning to face your mother. “Infinity Motors is no longer a donor for Clean Ocean.”

Finally, this gets through to your father. “What happened?” he demands. “Was it a matter of money? Was the offer too small? I’m playing golf with Liam on Sunday – I could talk to him then. We could work something out; this doesn’t have to be the end.”

“There’s no need for that, dad,” you hasten.

“Don’t be so proud,” your mother cuts in. “Listen to your father. He’s been doing this for much longer than you have, Y/N. Do the other donors know?” she asks, changing topics. “It really isn’t right to throw a launch party when the program is cancelled.”

“It’s not cancelled,” you say through clenched teeth.

“There’s no need for that tone, Y/N. I’m just thinking of you, here. I assume this means you’ve broken up with Liam?”

“We were never dating, mom.”

“Oh, right. Is that really what you want to go with?”

“Yes, it is,” you say. “And why does it matter, anyways? One minute, you’re pushing me to date Jungkook and now, you’re all about Liam.”

“I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong,” your mother says with a sniff. “You and Liam Jessen make more sense as a couple. And you were right about that Jeon boy,” she adds, a bit darker.

Hearing this, you pause, unsure how to respond. Your mother has never shied away from supporting the Jeons before. Sensing your hesitation, Jason jumps in.

“What do you mean?” he says, curious.

“W-ell.” Like the cat with the canary, your mother swirls her champagne. “I was speaking to Louise Trapp the other day and she said that apparently, Jungkook is running his father’s company into the ground.”

“Oh?” you ask, the word faint.

When Jason looks at you with confusion, you pretend not to notice.

“It’s true.” Your mother shakes her head. “He’s investing all their profits into renewable energy. Forgoing any sort of shareholder dividend! He fired all the old executives, the ones who’d devoted their lives to the company. Terrible – just terrible,” she sighs. “That company will go under soon, mark my words.”

For a moment, you stand speechless. Hearing your mother list all Jungkook’s accomplishments as faults is a level of surrealness Dalí wouldn’t expect.

“Hm.” Jason seems thoughtful. “Those don’t sound like bad ideas.”

Ignoring this, your mother shakes her head. “Such a pity, too. That boy had such potential. All the opportunity in the world, and this is what he chose.”

Hearing her clear disdain helps you regain your voice. “And what, exactly, did he choose?” you ask, your words full of soft venom.

Both mother and father blink at your tone.

“Well, he…”

Your mother falters.

“Now, Y/N,” your father says, cutting in. “You know your mother meant nothing by the comment.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you say sweetly. “So, what did you mean?”

Your mother’s gaze narrows, never one to back down from a fight. “I only meant,” she says stiffly, “that he’s turned a lot of former friends into enemies. And that it’s a pity to see his father’s tremendous work be undone.”

“Jungkook’s father,” you snap, barely aware of what you’re saying, “isn’t worthy of being mentioned in the same sentence as Jungkook.”

Your mother stares at you, aghast and in the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook appear.

He stands at the edge of the patio, searching for something – or someone, you realize, when your gazes meet. Briefly, he smiles before stepping from the dais to melt into the crowd. Suddenly, it seems foolish to have separated from him at all.

“Speaking of Jungkook,” you say, turning back. “I’ve been meaning to thank you, mom.”

Both your parents seem perplexed.

“Thank me for what?” your mother asks tightly.

Rather than answer, you turn around and wave. Your timing proves to be correct, as Jungkook appears as though called from the crowd. When he sees you waving, he stops and glances behind him. Realizing no one is there, Jungkook pivots, and you wave again. Puzzled, he tilts his head, and you nod.

Once you’re certain he’s coming, you return to your family.

“For encouraging me to go out on dates,” you say, answering your mother’s question. “You were right. I was going out with all the wrong men. I needed someone who can hold their own, and now I’ve found that – thanks to you.”

Your mother continues to look bewildered, but Jason breaks into laughter when Jungkook approaches. Your brother quickly disguises this as a cough, taking a large gulp of his whiskey. 

Jungkook appears by your side, holding a glass of red wine and looking fully at ease. Stepping closer, you slip your arm into the crook of his elbow and Jungkook glances at you, surprised. This only lasts a moment before he gives in.

“Darling,” Jungkook says, placing his other hand on your lower back. “Are you alright? Do you need a drink?”

“No, no – darling,” you add, just to watch his lips twitch. “I only wanted you to meet my parents. As my boyfriend.”

Something heated flares in his gaze, followed by understanding. Turning towards your family, Jungkook’s expression shifts to one you’ve only seen a few times before. A thrill runs down your spine at the detached look of Jeon Energy’s CEO.

“No fucking way,” Jason breathes.

Your mother instantly straightens. “Jason,” she hisses. “Language!”

“Sorry, mom.” He shakes his head. “So, does this mean you two are actually…”

“Dating?” you supply, your smile widening. “Yes. That’s what I wanted to thank you for, mom. For bringing us together.”

Placing his hand over yours on his elbow, Jungkook inclines his head. Expression unchanging, he keeps you firm by his side.

“I should be thanking you as well, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he adds, solemn. “If it weren’t for you, I never would have found someone as wonderful as your daughter.”

Your mother’s mouth opens, then shuts, clearly torn. On one hand, it’s rude to directly contradict an acquaintance. On the other hand, she doesn’t agree with Jungkook. You don’t think you’ve heard your mother ever use wonderful and daughter in the same sentence.

Luckily, your father steps in. “Well, isn’t this fantastic,” he booms. “How long has it been since I’ve seen your father, Jungkook? I’ll have to set up golf with him soon.”

The change is barely perceptible, but Jungkook’s smile dims. Squeezing his arm with your hand, you force him to look down and he softens.

“We were just talking about you,” you say, looking upward. “My mother was giving her thoughts about your performance as CEO, and I thought it’d be good for you to hear them in person.”

Jason nearly spits his whiskey back into his glass. Your mother is similarly stricken, although she composes herself quickly. Jungkook, on the other hand, seems mildly amused.

“Was she now?” he asks, turning to face her. “I must say, the reviews so far have been dismal. Most people seem to think I’m running the company into the ground.”

Your mother looks a bit sallow. Faced with two bad options – lying or saying something rude to Jungkook’s face – she chooses her next words carefully.

“Yes, well.” She nods. “It takes great… fortitude to make such large-scale changes.”

Jungkook lifts a brow. “Ah, yes. True. But enough about me,” he adds, glancing your way. “Shouldn’t you make the rounds? I’d hate to keep you from your guests.” His expression hardens slightly when he returns to your parents. “It was lovely to see you,” Jungkook adds in a tone which clearly says it was not. “We should do this again.”

Hearing his insult disguised by kind words, your mother stiffens. Your father doesn’t seem to notice and, with a nod, he scans the place for a bar.

Bending, Jungkook brushes his lips against your cheek. “Do you want me to stay?’ he murmurs. “I don’t like leaving you alone with them.”

If you felt any uncertainty before, it immediately vanishes.

“I’ll be fine,” you whisper back. “I’ll see you at eleven.”

Nodding, Jungkook pulls away to face your parents again. “Have a goodnight,” he says before leaving.

You watch him enter the crowd, your side feeling suddenly empty. Before you can offer up any type of explanation, Jason starts to chuckle.

“Wow,” he says. “Jeon Jungkook, Y/N.”

“What about it?” you ask, turning back.

“Nothing.” His grin widens. “I thought that you hated him.”

“Yeah, well.” Somewhat sheepish, you shrug. “Turns out, I don’t.”

Jason continues to smile, and you can’t help but return it – until your mother regains her voice.

“Y/N,” she huffs. “You could have warned us before calling him over like that.”

“I thought you’d be pleased,” you say blithely. “You were the one who introduced us.”

“You – we.” Coming to a stop, she takes a deep breath. “While admittedly, that Jeon boy comes from a good family, he’s hardly the type of man we’d encourage you to date.”

“Oh?” you ask, a dangerous note to your words.

Not for the first time, you understand your mother will find fault in whatever you do. Here’s a man she set you up with and now, because you chose him, she’s taking back her approval.

Oddly enough, the fact barely stings. Not long ago, it might have. Glancing around, you spot Jungkook by the bar and realize he’s watching. He pretends not to, but every now and again, he glances your way, and his expression tightens.

You smile reassuringly. Returning to your parents, you look them each in the eye.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m the one dating him and you’re not,” you say simply. “Thank you for coming. I hope you enjoy the event.”

With that, you turn around and leave. Behind you, Jason jumps in to save the conversation, and you feel a surge of gratitude. While you may not always agree, you can’t deny your brother has your back.

Now, keeping your distance from Jungkook until the end of the night seems pointless. Cutting through the crowd, you make your way to his side. Jungkook watches you navigate and, once you arrive, hands you a glass of champagne. Taking it, your heart flutters, since Jungkook has selected a brand you ordered before.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hi.”

Smiling back at him, you take a sip from the glass.

“No. Way.”

A third voice makes you start. Turning, you find Seokjin staring between you, open-mouthed. Before you can explain, Jungkook turns casually to face him.

“So,” he remarks. “I hear you like Yoongi.”

Gaze jerking to him, Seokjin shuts his mouth. Stifling a laugh, you lean into Jungkook, and he places a hand on your lower back.

Seeing this, Seokjin groans. “Are you two together now? Because if so, I’ll need at least a five-minute warning before you enter a room. New couples are the worst.”

“Yes, we’re together,” you say, smiling up at Jungkook.

He smiles down at you, and in the background, you hear Seokjin offer congratulations before disappearing. Jungkook’s fingers trail lower, realizing how much of your skin is exposed.

“This dress,” Jungkook murmurs, lowering his lips to your ear, “is indecent.”

“Are you trying to tell me what to wear, Mr. Jeon?” you ask in mock-outrage.

Withdrawing his hand, Jungkook turns you to face him. “I wouldn’t dare. Allow me to rephrase – seeing you in that dress is making me want to do indecent things.”

Heart hammering against your ribcage, you stare upward. Before you can respond though, your phone vibrates in your clutch. You determine to ignore it, but then a second vibration occurs – followed fast by another.

Jungkook’s lips tighten. “You should probably get that.”

As much as you hate to admit it, Jungkook is right. Pulling away, you reluctantly unzip your clutch. Spotting Hoseok’s name on the screen, you scowl and swipe.

Hoseok: you saw Jungkook?? Was that before or after we talked? [9:01 PM]

Hoseok: hang on – Seokjin says you’re with him now? [9:29 PM]

Hoseok: and you didn’t tell me?! [9:30 PM]

Hoseok: Y/N! [9:30 PM]

Reading over your shoulder, Jungkook chuckles. Handing him your glass of champagne, you respond.

Y/N: yes, I saw him and yes, we’re together. Additional questions will be answered at a later time [9:32 PM]

Belatedly, you realize this is your group chat when you see Seokjin’s ellipses.

Seokjin: they’re being nauseating out on the patio [9:33 PM]

Seokjin: steer clear [9:33 PM]

Y/N: we are not being nauseating [9:34 PM]

“We kind of are,” Jungkook murmurs. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lowers his chin to your shoulder. “Which reminds me – you should probably be in there, talking to people.”

You huff, knowing he’s right and your phone dings again.

Hoseok: Y/N, go home [9:36 PM]

Surprised, you stare at the screen. Hoseok continues typing, and another message follows.

Hoseok: Olya agrees – go home. You’ve been here for hours and said hello to everyone important. We can handle the rest. [9:37 PM]

Before you can counter, Jungkook’s hand closes around your phone and tugs it from your grasp.

“Thank god,” he sighs, kissing the nape of your neck. “Because it’s taking my last shred of willpower to keep from ripping this dress right off you.”

His free hand splays across your middle, tugging you backwards as you sharply inhale.

“Are you ready to leave?” he asks, low in your ear.

“Yes,” you blurt, making your decision. “Let’s go. Right now.”

Jungkook chuckles, following close behind when you take his hand. Not caring who sees, you drag him through the crowd and towards the main entrance.

Once you’re outside, you reach for your phone and Jungkook sets this in your palm. Coming to a stop alongside you, he slips both hands in his pockets.

“Where do you want to go?” He tilts his head. “Your place or mine?”

A million (not PG) possibilities run through your mind, rendering you speechless. Judging by his expression, Jungkook seems to be thinking the same.

“Your place,” you say, only to pause. “But… Dante is at my neighbor’s.”

“We can go to your place,” Jungkook offers. “Or we can pick up Dante and head to mine. I don’t care either way.”

You stare at him, speechless, too stunned by the absolute perfection standing before you.

Mistaking your silence for disapproval, Jungkook starts to backtrack. “Or not,” he says. “You could ask your neighbor to watch Dante? Or we just head to your place. I really don’t care, Y/N, I just want –”

“No – no,” you blurt. “It’s not that. None of what you just said is bad. It’s just – you’re wonderful,” you say, somewhat breathless. “Let’s get Dante and go to your place. If you don’t mind.”

Jungkook breaks into a smile. “I really don’t,” he says, turning around as headlights swing into the drive. “I hope you don’t care I had my driver waiting.”

“I don’t,” you respond, your giddiness only growing when Jungkook takes your hand.

Opening the door, he waits for you to sit before crossing to the other side. You’re nearly buckled in when he joins, leaning over the console to give his driver directions. When the car starts to move, Jungkook settles backwards – casually pushing the button to raise the partition.

Ensconced in darkness, every inch of your body goes taut.

Shifting on leather, you stare straight ahead and do your best to ignore the mounting tension between you. You have an entire car ride before you reach his place. This is easier said than done though, because the longer you sit, the more you remember the first night you met.

“So.”

Jungkook’s voice is low, seductive, and unthinking, you turn. You immediately regret this because now, you’re aware of how close Jungkook is. His right hand splays across the seat between you, taking up space in a way that’s distracting.

“So,” you exhale.

Your voice is breathy, even to your ears and his upper lip curls. Leaning forward, Jungkook gently drags his thumb along the curve of your jaw. Unbidden, you shiver.

“Did I tell you how gorgeous you look?” he murmur, not looking away.

“If I didn’t know better,” you say, “I’d think you were trying to get me naked.”

Jungkook lifts a brow. “Oh, I am. Not here, though. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Mistake?”

“Mm.” His voice drops. “You don’t deserve to be undressed in the backseat of a car. You deserve to be spread out like a feast – worshiped and eaten until I’m fully sated.”

You feel your heart quicken. “And… if I want the first option?”

“Well, then.” His hand slowly slides to the back of your neck. “We’ll just have to compromise.”

Bending, his teeth scrape your jaw as you tip your head back. Other hand finding your waist, Jungkook pulls you closer as you squeeze your eyes shut. Tilting your head, Jungkook lightly tugs the lobe of your ear between his teeth.

A whimper escapes you, thighs clenched tightly together.

“Slow,” Jungkook whispers. “We have all night.”

“But I want you now.”

His grip on you tightens. “Careful,” he warns. “Each time you’re a brat, your orgasm gets delayed.”

Chest rising and falling, you open your eyes. Jungkook stares back at you, his gaze lidded as a sudden wave of boldness overtakes you.

“So, what can I do, your highness?” you ask.

Absent, his thumb strokes the side of your throat. You aren’t sure Jungkook is even aware that he’s doing it, so focused is he on the shape of your mouth.

“I don’t think we have enough time for roleplay tonight, princess,” he muses. “What you can do is let me worship your body the way that I want.”

“The way that you want?”

His gaze flicks to yours. “What I want is for you to be so wholly undone, you forget your own name.”

Oh.

Sensing approval, Jungkook shifts even closer. His other hand spans your ribcage and when he brushes the underside of your breasts, you suck in a breath.

“Jungkook,” you groan.

Lightly, Jungkook swipes his thumb over your nipple. Due to the low back, you aren’t able to wear a bra with this dress. It means you feel every touch, each caress as Jungkook plays with your body.

Shifting even closer, he cups your breast with one hand. “Fuck,” Jungkook mutters. “I’ve missed being able to touch you like this.”

His thumb circles your nipple, other hand joining to find your other breast. You long to touch him back but are afraid if you start, you won’t be able to stop.

Pressing your legs tightly together, you rock against your seat in desperate search of friction. Hand rising to the back of your head, Jungkook crushes your mouth to his. Unable to take it, your arms twine around his neck to pull him even closer. His hand falls to the seat, covering your body with his as he–

The car beneath you slows.

Freezing above you, it takes several moments for Jungkook to speak. In the corner of your eye, you realize you’ve reached your apartment and slowly sit back.

“Fuck,” you exhale.

Shutting his eyes, Jungkook still doesn’t move. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Fuck.”

Eventually, he shifts to unbuckle his seatbelt. Hiding a smile at his clear distraction, you push open your door and step onto the curb. You’re halfway to the door when his arms wrap around you from behind.

“Come on,” he sighs, pulling you backwards. “Let’s go and find Dante before I let you convince me to fuck you in my car.”

“Jungkook!” you gasp, glancing around to ensure no one heard.

The street is thankfully empty and, stifling laughter, you pull him inside. The five stories to your apartment are less painful than usual, possibly because Jungkook refuses to let go of your waist. It makes for rather awkward travel, but you can’t bring yourself to complain as you reach your front door.

“Jungkook,” you laugh, fumbling in your clutch for the key. “I need Dante’s things.”

“Mm.”

“Which means I need my hands,” you point out.

Pouting, Jungkook drops his arms and reluctantly steps away. Unable to deal with his face, you turn around on tiptoe and kiss him. Accepting your touch as currency, Jungkook holds open the door while you step inside.

Dropping your clutch on the counter, you head straight for your bedroom. The faster you pack, the faster you reach Jungkook’s apartment, and the rest of your night can begin.

“Do you need any help?” Jungkook yells.

“No!” you call back, grabbing a duffel bag.

Tossing clothes in, you barely pay attention to what you grab. Scanning your bathroom, you throw in some face products and zip up the case. When you return to the kitchen, you come to a stop.

Jungkook has assembled a random assortment on your counter. Dog food, treats, bathroom bags, a few leashes – basically, everything you might need for Dante. Lifting a brow, you walk closer.

“Is this for Dante?” you ask, picking up a chew toy.

Jungkook nods, a bit sheepish. “I wanted to help, so I pulled some stuff together.”

Setting your bag on the floor, you reach up and pull his face down to yours. Your kiss is soft, sweet and Jungkook looks puzzled when you pull away.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “That was really cute.” You glance sideways. “He only needs like, a quarter of this but it was cute.”

Laughing, you help Jungkook pack what Dante actually needs in a second bag and finally, you’re ready to go. Switching off your lights, you head towards the door – only to walk straight into Jungkook’s chest.

Surprised, you look up. “What?”

He glances at your duffel bag. “What’s in there?”

Pulling the strap tighter across your chest, you shrug. “Things,” you say. “Clothes for tomorrow, face stuff, pajamas –”

“Pajamas?” Jungkook nearly smiles.

Determined, you lift your chin. “Yes, pajamas.”

Taking a step closer, Jungkook lets his arms fall. You take an unconscious step backwards, your hips hitting the counter as, slowly, he places one hand on either side of you.

He tilts his head. “Do you really think you’ll be needing clothing tonight?”

Before you can utter so much as a syllable, Jungkook turns around to pull open your door.

“Let’s go,” he announces.

Adopting a scowl, you stalk past. Laughing quietly to himself, Jungkook shuts the door as you cross the hall. You knock on Jimin’s door, and several barks follow (most of them Dante’s).

Stopping beside you, Jungkook holds out a hand. It takes you a moment to realize he’s asking for the duffel bag. Ignoring him, you knock a second time and Jungkook uses your momentary distraction to relieve you of the bag.

You’re just turning sideways to scold him when the door opens. Seeing the two of you, Jimin’s jaw drops as he freezes.

“Jimin, hi!” you blurt as a furry bolt of lightning enters the hall.

Dante runs straight for Jungkook, and you watch – utterly betrayed – while Dante rolls onto his back. Staring up at Jungkook with heart-eyes, Dante wags his tail. Obeying the obvious demand, Jungkook bends to give Dante belly rubs.

Regaining himself, Jimin leans against his door. “Wow, Y/N,” he says with a laugh. “Seems like you’ve been replaced.”

Glancing upward, Jungkook squints. “Hey, Jimin. Nice to meet you again.”

“Nice to see you.” Grin widening, Jimin glances your way. Over Jungkook’s head, he mouths, so, is this a thing? before he turns back. “Will we be seeing the two of you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Jungkook continues to rub Dante’s belly. “What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m having people over to play video games,” Jimin says. “My girlfriend will be there, along with Hoseok and Olya. You’re more than welcome to come.”

“Thanks for the offer.” Jungkook looks up. “If Y/N wants to, I’m in.”

“We’ll see,” you say. “It all depends on what we’re doing.”

Brow lifted, Jungkook slowly stands from the floor. Heat floods his gaze, understanding exactly what you mean. If you’re able to withdraw yourself from Jungkook’s bed before next week, you’d be surprised.

Glancing between you, Jimin pauses, then nods. “Cool.” Subtle, he raps on his door frame. “I’m heading back inside before you do each other in the hall, but text me if you’re coming, Y/N. Night!”

Stepping inside, Jimin shuts his door. Jungkook stares after him, startled before chuckling. Bending, he scoops both bags from the ground.

“That guy just says whatever’s on his mind, huh?” he muses, clipping on Dante’s leash. Dante actually lets Jungkook do this, which is in itself a rarity.

Trying not to let on how amazing this is, you shrug. “Jimin is blunt, but he’s also super nice. If you did want to go tomorrow, we can.”

“We’ll see.” Jungkook straightens. “Like you said, we may be… otherwise occupied.”

He gives an exaggerated wink and it’s a physical battle not to kiss him right now. Turning away, you head down the hall. You absolutely refuse to jump Jungkook in the hallway.

Outside, you take Dante to the bathroom while Jungkook sets your stuff in the trunk. You’re unsure if Dante will enter a car other than yours but needn’t have worried. As soon as Jungkook opens the door, he bounds right in and curls up on the backseat.

The entire drive to Jungkook’s place, Dante insists on sticking his head out the window. At first you try to pull him back in, but Jungkook doesn’t mind, even going as far as to join Dante at the end. You cringe beside them, unable to keep from laughing when they both bark at passersby.

Once parked, you take the special elevator from Jungkook’s garage to his place. His doors slide open, and Dante bounds forward, forcing you to drop the leash.

Allowing him to explore, you enter the hall at a slower pace. Jungkook is close behind, setting down the bags to remove his loafers. Stopping beside you, he places a hand on your back.

“Hey,” he says.

Exhaling lowly, you turn to face him.

“Hey,” you murmur.

Jungkook searches your face. “Are you okay with all of this?”

“Yeah. It’s just… this feels big. You know?”

“I know.” He pauses. “I haven’t been serious about much in my life, Y/N, but I’m serious about this. About you.”

“Good,” you say, and step closer. “I’m serious about you, too, Jungkook.”

He smiles down at you. “Good.”

Bending, Jungkook brushes his lips to yours – once, twice before he pulls back. He leaves a small space, enough room to say no. Instead, you grip his jacket and pull him closer. Jungkook breaks down, a low groan in his throat as his mouth opens yours.

Cupping the back of your neck, Jungkook pulls you to him. He molds your body with his and you inhale, feeling his arousal thicken between you. His hardness presses against your stomach and you bite down – hard – on his lower lip.

Abruptly, he pulls back. “Wait,” Jungkook pants.

Somewhat dazed, you stare up at him. Tearing his gaze from yours, Jungkook glances away and you spot the source of his concern splayed out on his sofa. Dante – now fast asleep, all paws in the air.

“He…” Jungkook gapes. “He was just running around.”

Reaching up, you return Jungkook’s stunned gaze to yours. “He’ll be like that until morning,” you say. “Dante only does things full-out.”

“Hm,” he muses. “Likewise.”

Slowly, Jungkook’s gaze drops to scan your curves. His hands follow, cupping and seeking each inch of bare skin. When he stops above your ass, Jungkook cups you roughly and pulls you against him. Lowering, he opens your mouth with his in a dizzying kiss.

Without looking up, Jungkook walks the two of you backwards and down his hall. At his room, Jungkook ignores the handle to press you to the wood.

“I’ve thought about this so many times,” he confesses, breaking away to kiss down your jaw. “Every night since you left.”

‘Since I left? Jungkook, you were the one who –”

“You said I shouldn’t have come.”

“Because you shouldn’t have,” you say, distracted by his tongue on your skin. “That didn’t mean I didn’t want you there.”

“Complicated woman,” Jungkook growls, lifting his head. “Let’s just say what we mean from now on, yeah?”

You can’t help but smile. “A lofty goal.”

His gaze sparks. “I like to be aspirational. For instance”– achingly slow, his hand travels down your thigh – “I want you to come three times tonight.”

“Three?”

Hitching your knee, Jungkook presses his hips to yours. You inhale when you feel his cock harden against your core. Without looking away, he thrusts upward, and you can’t help but whimper.

“Three,” Jungkook repeats.

Hand sliding higher, he regrips your ass. Holding tight, Jungkook thrusts again and you groan at the feel of him through his pants. You want less fabric, more clothing gone and Jungkook seems to echo your urgent desire.

Reaching behind you, he fumbles for the door. It opens abruptly and you nearly fall, but Jungkook catches you in time. Kicking the door shut behind you, he doesn’t bother with the light – not with the skyline so bright before you.

Turning you around, Jungkook drags both palms up your sides. You can’t help but shiver, moaning when his lips brush below your ear.

You’re surprised when he doesn’t remove your dress. Instead, Jungkook steps closer and entwines your hand with his. Pulling you backwards to his chest, he slowly lifts your arm to drape around his neck.

Slipping a hand beneath your dress from the side, he cups your breast. Inhaling, you arch when Jungkook flicks over a nipple. This is followed by a soft caress, turning your nipple rock hard while you squirm against him.

Pushing back with your ass, you grind his crotch until Jungkook grabs your hip.

“Be a good girl,” he murmurs, flicking your nipple again.

Exhaling roughly, you slip a hand in between you to palm over his pants. Rather than punish you for it, Jungkook pushes his cock forward, into your hand.

“That’s it, princess,” he breathes in your ear. “So fucking dirty, aren’t you? Couldn’t keep yourself from touching my cock. See how hard you make me?”

“So hard,” you whimper. “Want you inside me.”

“Not yet. Need you out of this dress.”

Barely do the words register before Jungkook tugs down your zipper. You’re forced to let go when Jungkook steps backwards. Undoing the clasp at your nape, he releases your dress to fall to the floor.

Staring at him in the window, you watch Jungkook step forward.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, gripping your waist. Pressing you to his front, he casually trails a hand up your naked body. “So fucking beautiful.” With his other hand, Jungkook plays with the line of your panties. “What do you want, Y/N?”

“More,” you pant, watching your reflection’s chest rise and fall.

“Hm.” Cupping your sex, Jungkook pulls you back. “I need you to be more specific,” he whispers in your ear. “My mouth? Hand? Want to come on my cock?”

“All of it,” you blurt, greedy.

Jungkook chuckles. “Need you out of those heels first, princess. No matter how fucking hot you look in them.”

You nod and, in the window, watch Jungkook bend to help you from the shoes. Tossing the heels aside, he sits back on his knees. You stare at his reflection; certain you’ve never seen someone so beautiful.

“Bed,” Jungkook rasps with a jerk of his chin. “I need you to walk to my bed, princess. Then turn around and place both hands on the mattress.”

Whatever snappy retort you had dies on your tongue. Instead, you merely nod and obey. Watching him in the window, you see Jungkook stand, palming himself as you walk. Reaching his bed, you lower your palms to spread on the sheets.

Silent, Jungkook watches, only heightening your anticipation.

His footsteps are soft, heavy while approaching the bed. Your breath quickens at the soft click and thud of his belt hitting the floor. Glancing over your shoulder, you almost wish you hadn’t. The ravenous look on his face, staring at your cunt nearly ruins you.

Gaze flicking upward, Jungkook catches you watching.

“Face forward,” he says, stepping closer to run his hand up your thigh. “Or I’ll go even slower.”

Swallowing hard, you face forward. True to his word, Jungkook is slow in his exploration. His fingers casually glide along the edge of your panties, teasing and dipping but never removing. Every now and then, he slips a single digit inside, barely grazing the mound of your swollen flesh. Biting down on your lip, you push your ass backwards.

Darkly, he chuckles. “Do you want these panties gone, princess?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please,” you grind out, glaring over your shoulder.

Smiling wickedly, Jungkook slips his hands under your panties and pulls towards the ground. He helps you step out, leaving you suddenly bare. Placing one hand on your lower back, Jungkook pushes you forward until you feel his weight over yours.

“All this,” he murmurs, sliding his hand up your leg. The tips of his fingers brush where you ache, and you suck in a breath. “For me.”

“For you,” you groan, head hung in anticipation.

The warmth of him is tangible, his waist aligned with yours but just out of reach. Jungkook’s hand wanders up the back of your thigh.

“Can I touch you here?” he murmurs, dragging his fingers in a v over your aching center.

“God, yes.”

Repeating the motion, Jungkook lightly strokes each side of your sex. On his way back down, his thumb swipes your center, and he lets out a groan.

“So fucking wet,” Jungkook says, sounding pained. “You’re so fucking wet, and I’ve barely touched you.”

“I can’t help it,” you whimper.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he says, his tone soft as he slips a finger inside. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Men should line up and kneel before a pussy like this.”

A spark ignites. Lifting your head, you meet his gaze in the window.

“Then, why don’t you?” you ask sweetly.

Jungkook’s pupils dilate. While you watch, he lifts his hand to slap the round curve of your ass. “Because,” he says lowly, “other men don’t know what to do with a cunt as gorgeous as yours. I do, though – don’t I, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you exhale, arching again. “You do.”

Even this – the slow anticipation – is driving you wild. You know Jungkook will make you orgasm and know he’ll do it in a way which makes you feel good; a level of trust you’ve extended to few others.

“That said.” Jungkook chuckles and drops to his knees.

Staring, your lips part when he spreads your folds. You’re sure you must be a sight, bent over and glistening while he stares at your opening. Suddenly, Jungkook spits and you sharply inhale. His spit trickles down your pussy, mixing with your slick and making you clench.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you groan when he circles your clit with his thumb. Before you can say any more, Jungkook spreads your folds and the next thing you feel is his tongue. “Oh my god,” you gasp, broken.

Bent over, the best you can do is stay upright while Jungkook eats you out. Nose brushing your clit, he follows this with his mouth, then tongue. At some point, his fingers join in, gently tracing your opening before slipping in one, and then two to slowly stretch you.

You whimper, hands fisting in the sheets while your legs start to tremble. Jungkook sucks on your clit, long and slow before flicking his tongue in staccato. Thighs spreading further, you sink down to allow better access.

Switching positions, Jungkook licks your clit while his fingers fuck you. “Goddamn, Y/N,” he breathes. “You’re so wet.” Pulling away, he stands from the floor to bend forward. One hand on the bed, Jungkook parts your legs with his other palm. “Clenching around me so nicely.”

Slipping two fingers back in, he spreads you wider before pulling out. Lips brushing your neck, Jungkook plays with your pussy as though he owns it.

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so good with just two of my fingers. Need to stretch you out before you can take my cock.”

“I can take it,” you pant.

“Not yet,” Jungkook says, curling his fingers. “Want you dripping and ready before I fill you with my cum.”

You clench at the thought, and Jungkook lets out a hiss. Lifting his hand from the bed, he cups your front to stroke your clit. The pleasure builds quickly, his fingers continuing to move while his other hand teases. Bent over and helpless, all you can do is take it.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, your thighs shaking. “I’m close.”

“Oh?” he murmurs, adding a third finger. You groan, feeling stuffed – and still not remotely close to how thick his cock is. “Take another – you’re doing so well for me, princess.”

Shifting, his fingers hit a spot deep inside you which makes you cry out. Pushed over the edge, your orgasm is fast – squeezing his fingers, you gasp as you ride out the wave. Jungkook helps you through it, coaxing you gently down from the high.

When the last of your tremors has subsided, he withdraws his hand. Pressing a kiss to your neck, Jungkook waits until you turn around.

“How was that?” he asks.

“How… was that?” you ask, amazed as you catch your breath.

Earth-shattering, and yet you barely feel sated. Most of Jungkook is clothed and, feeling the injustice, you take a step forward and press your naked body to his.

“I want more,” you tell him.

“That so?” Jungkook murmurs, cupping your ass with one hand.

“Yeah,” you say, your breath quickening when his fingers swipe through your slick. “Want you naked, Jungkook. Please.”

Wordless, he steps backwards to lower his hands to his pants. Jungkook undoes a button and, finding his efforts too slow, you move forward. Replacing his hands on the zipper, you tug them down as he laughs. Assisting your efforts, Jungkook steps free from his pants to reveal black boxer-briefs.

“Now, your shirt,” you demand.

Lifting a brow, Jungkook undoes the first button. “So greedy,” he says, unable to stop from smiling. “Someone might think you only want them for their body.”

There’s no bite to the words, but you soften regardless. Yoongi’s frankness about Jungkook using sex to keep people away surfaces in your mind. When Jungkook’s shirt hits the floor to reveal tan skin and ink, you barely even notice, stepping closer.

“Hey,” you say softly.

He pauses.

“Jungkook.” You hesitate. “As much as I love… this, between us… that’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I want more than that. I want you. In every way. I need you to know that.”

Uncertainty steals across his features, soon replaced by understanding. Bending his head, Jungkook kisses you – a gesture so light, you barely feel it.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “I do know.”

“Good.”

“Good.” He pulls back. “And as wonderful as that is to hear, I have every intention of making you come in my bed until you forget your damn name.”

Your breath catches, followed by a moan when his teeth scrape your jaw.

“Sit on the bed,” Jungkook says quietly in your ear.

Unthinking, you obey. When your knees hit the mattress, you sit and scoot backwards until your feet leave the floor.

Jungkook tilts his head. “Spread your legs. I want to see you.”

Slowly, you spread them and lean back on your elbows. Jungkook inhales, his eyes darkening as he takes a step forward.

“Wider,” he murmurs, lowering one knee to the mattress. “Good. That’s better, princess.”

Sliding one hand up your thigh, Jungkook brushes a kiss to your skin. Grasping your waist, he uses this as an anchor while leaning forward.

“How do you want me?” he asks and looks up.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how do you want me?” His lips curve. “From behind? Standing? Bent over? Spooning? You aren’t on your period, right?” Jungkook asks, as though the thought just occurred to him.

“N-no,” you assure. “Not yet.”

“So?” he asks, returning to the question at hand. “What position do you want to start in?”

“Uh, all of them?”

His lip twitches. Sitting back, Jungkook crosses both arms across his chest. This causes his biceps to flex which, honestly, is unfair. It seems Jungkook knows what he’s doing, as well – he lifts a brow with maddening arrogance.

“All in good time, princess,” he says. “But how do you want me to fuck you right now?”

“I want to see you,” you confess. “Please.”

Understanding, Jungkook nods and lowers himself to his elbows. Little by little, he releases his weight to press you to the bed. His kisses start slow, but soon, Jungkook’s hands are skimming your curves, losing himself in the feel of your body.

Grinding your hips, you feel the length of him harden. Sliding one hand down his side, you trace the band of his boxers to tug them lower.

Jungkook starts to laugh when you mostly succeed in freeing his ass. Scooting backwards, he removes his boxers and tosses them on the floor. When Jungkook returns to your legs, you exhale with satisfaction – which soon turns to a groan when he captures your nipple with teeth.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you arch against him. Jungkook’s cock slides against your sex, getting him wet in a way that drives you mad.

“Y/N,” Jungkook rasps. “Look at you. So fucking needy beneath me.”

“Need it,” you moan. “Need you.”

“You have me,” he says, intensity flooding his gaze.

“Do I?”

“All of me,” Jungkook promises. Reaching lower, he positions himself at your entrance. “I’m yours, Y/N.”

Almost reverently, Jungkook drags his cock through your arousal. Teasingly, he circles your clit before moving lower. He does this again – and again, and again – until you think you might burst.

“Jungkook,” you pant.

Gaze lifting, Jungkook presses his cock to your center – and freezes. You go still as well, certain something is wrong.

“Jungkook?” you ask, tentative. “Is everything alright?”

“Fuck.” Jerking back, his hand drops. “Shit – I forgot. Condom.”

Leaning across the bed, Jungkook starts to open a drawer when you grab his hand. Halting his movement, Jungkook glances your way.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, returning immediately. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I – no,” you breath, face suddenly hot. “It’s just… I’m on the pill. And I’m clean. I was tested last week, and I haven’t been with anyone else since the second time we, uh…”

Jungkook looks at you intently. “What exactly are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’m saying you don’t need to use a condom – if you’re also clean.”

“I am.” He pauses. “I went to the doctor this week. But Y/N…” Jungkook trails off. “I’ve actually never…”

He falters, unsure and you realize what he’s trying to say. Jungkook has never had sex without a condom. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised, given his lack of relationships but still – you didn’t think there’d be anything you’d done before him.

Gently, you touch the side of his face. “We don’t have to,” you tell him. “I know this is a big step. I just thought I’d ask.”

When you move to withdraw, Jungkook catches your hand in his. “It is a big step. But I want to take it with you. If you’re sure,” he adds, quiet.

“I’m sure.”

Jungkook stares at you a long moment, then releases your hand. Lowering himself, he opens your mouth with his. Fingers twisting into his hair, you raise your hips, and he lets out a groan. When you shift, feeling his cock press to your hip, the need is nearly unbearable.

Reaching down, Jungkook repositions himself at your entrance. There’s a moment of hesitation before he pushes in, stopping after only an inch. Both of you inhale, relishing the feel. The tip of his cock is swollen and thick, and when Jungkook pushes in a bit further you stifle a moan.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gasps, sounding raw. “You feel so fucking good.”

Lifting your hips, you make him slide an inch deeper.

Jungkook grunts. “Don’t do that,” he warns. “Unless you want me to come in the next twenty seconds.”

Smiling, you fall back and allow him to go at his pace – not that you mind. Jungkook stares intently at the point where he enters your body, unable to believe this is happening. Each inch he gains makes you feel a bit fuller and when he’s nearly halfway, you reach down to slowly rub your clit. Jungkook’s eyes glaze at the sight, muttering something beneath his breath about how hot you are.

With a final thrust, he sheathes himself fully and you gasp. Filled to the brim, you have the unbearable urge to move but Jungkook’s expression is nearly past his limit. Exhaling lowly, his gaze lifts to yours.

“God,” he mutters. “This is… the way you feel… is so unbelievable.”

Breath catching, you nod. Without a condom, you can feel every inch of Jungkook inside you. It makes him feel closer, as though you’ve let him in in more ways than one. Lifting your hips, you try to take him deeper.

Jungkook grits his teeth. “Not yet,” he warns. “Give me… a minute.”

Eventually, the tension leaves his jaw and Jungkook slowly pulls out. The loss of him makes you whimper, and with equal deliberation, Jungkook pushes back in. When he sees you bite down on your lower lip, he smirks.

Before you can huff, Jungkook repeats the motion – this time, harder. Both of you groan when your hips meet, feeling the way you easily stretch around him.

“Goddamn,” he murmurs, one hand on the bed. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock.”

Tightening your legs around his waist, you take him in deeper. Lifting himself onto his elbows, Jungkook thrusts a bit harder to hit a new angle.

“Ah,” you moan, arching your back. “There, Jungkook – right there.”

“There?” he murmurs. “That’s what you want, princess?”

Frantic, you nod and try to coax him faster. Jungkook merely chuckles, dragging the motion out so you feel his entire length inside you.

“Patience,” he coaxes. “You’re so good for me, Y/N. So fucking tight and perfect – made for me. This pussy was made for my cock.”

“Yeah, it was,” you breathe, your chest brushing his. “You’re so fucking hard. Fuck me so good.”

“Yeah, I do,” Jungkook growls, claiming your mouth with his own.

He doesn’t change speed, but each thrust is sharp, hard, driving you up on the bed. The motion causes your breasts to bounce, caught in between you. Breaking away, Jungkook lowers himself to suck a nipple between his teeth.

“Oh my god,” you whimper.

Pulling abruptly back out, Jungkook adopts a kneeling position. Yanking your thighs closer, he notches himself at your entrance and pushes – a groan escapes, the position allowing him to get even deeper.

“That’s it,” he breathes, bending forward. “Want to feel you come on my cock.”

Pressure building, your hands slide up your body to cup your breasts. Inhaling softly, Jungkook fixates on the sight as he thrusts even harder.

“Is this what you want, princess?” Jungkook grunts, the hard, heavy hit of his cock makes your eyes glaze. “Thought so.” His smile is smug. “All you want is a thick cock inside you.

“Yes,” you groan. “Don’t stop, Jungkook.”

“I’m not gonna stop, baby,” he says, leaning forward to hit a deeper angle. “Need my cock to make you come so good, right? How’s that?”

“Th-that’s it,” you gasp, choking on words. “Jungkook!”

Each thrust deepens the pleasure, your thighs starting to shake while you fight to hold on. Your perception narrows to his cock between your legs, his chest brushing yours until you come. Pleasure breaks over you, so strong it nearly pulls you under. Gasping his name, you hear Jungkook swear when you tighten around him. He continues to thrust, supporting your orgasm until you whimper.

Slowly, your eyes open to find him above you. Brushing a kiss to your cheek, Jungkook gently pulls out and sits back. Struggling to prop yourself up on both elbows, your gaze lowers. His cock stands in what must be a painful erection, but Jungkook pays this no notice.

Instead, his attention is fixated on you. “Are you alright?”

You nearly laugh. “Are you?”

A wry smile crosses his face. “Answer the question.”

“I’m… amazing,” you exhale, collapsing slightly. “Blissed out by the multiple orgasms.”

Jungkook’s brow sketches upward. “Just two, and you’re done?”

His tone is dark with promise and instantly, your body stirs. Not that it ever fully relaxed – the second orgasm did more than the first, but still, you crave more.

“Are you done, Jungkook?” you ask sweetly.

Boldly, his gaze lowers to your spread legs before him. Blistering heat enters his gaze, taking in your drenched cunt.

“No,” he admits, slowly fisting his cock. You watch while he drags his hand up and down. “I’m not done, but I can come on your chest. Or in my hand. Whatever you prefer.”

“Or,” you exhale, flipping onto your stomach, “you could fuck me like I know you want to.”

From behind, Jungkook inhales. Glancing at him over your shoulder, you nearly come on the spot. Jungkook stares at you, ravenous, as though you’ve gifted him heaven. There’s no need to ask twice.

“On your hands and knees, baby,” he demands, moving closer. “I need you hard and fast. Feeling you come around my cock was so fucking hot – I won’t last long.”

Nodding, you hastily position yourself, ass-up on the bed. Coming to a stop, Jungkook drags his fingers through the slick at your entrance. Grasping your hips, he pulls them higher and leans forward.

‘Such a good girl,” he murmurs, slipping two fingers inside you. “Can you come for me again?”

“Yes,” you pant, pushing back on his hand.

Withdrawing his fingers, Jungkook replaces them with his cock to fill you with one thrust. He pauses, adjusting to the feeling of you from behind. In the window’s reflection, you can see how good it looks to be fucked by his cock.

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. Smirking a little, he lifts his hand to bring it back down. You groan at the sound, arching your back to invite him further. Jungkook obliges, spanking you harder when he thrusts his hips deeper.

“You want it rough?” he murmurs, sliding one hand up your spine. “Can you take it, princess?”

“Please, Jungkook,” you beg him. “I need you to make me come again.”

“So greedy.” Dragging his fingers through your arousal, Jungkook rocks his hips forward. “I love a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Harder, Jungkook,” you pant.

His grip tightens. “As you command.”

Pulling back out, he pauses – and releases whatever hold he had on himself. Jungkook doesn’t ease you into it; as promised, he fucks you hard and fast. Fingers digging into the sides of your ass, Jungkook pounds into you. Each thrust has his balls slapping your clit, pleasure sparking inside you.

“Oh – fuck,” you gasp, head thrown back. “Jungkook!”

Shifting his hips, he hits a spot deep inside which makes your whole body tremble. A deep, throbbing need spirals through you, leaving you weightless.

“Jungkook.”

Sensing the shift, he manages to go even faster. “Right there?” Jungkook grunts, and you nearly sob. “That’s it, baby. Just relax. I’ll take care of it. I’ve got you.”

Turning your head, you lower your chest to the sheets and spread your thighs wider. Yanking your hips upwards, Jungkook takes control and drives into your body.

“Oh – oh,” you gasp, worrying you might split in half.

“Come for me, baby,” Jungkook urges. “Want to feel you around me. Want to paint this cunt white.”

Edged beyond belief, your hand slips higher to trace over your clit. Noticing this, Jungkook groans.

“That’s it, princess,” he pants. “Touch yourself. Feel how fucking hard you make me. How badly I need to come. Can’t wait to fill you up. Let everyone know whose pussy this is. Do you want that?” he grunts. “Want me to mark you like that?”

“Yes,” you hiccup. “Want your cum so bad inside me. Want to feel you for days.”

The thought of it overwhelms you so much, you can’t hold it in – your orgasm claims you. Jungkook’s hips stutter when your body releases, squeezing him tightly. Gasping, he follows, the heat of his cum pulsing into your body. Jungkook continues to thrust until there’s nothing left, staying inside you while your breathing steadies.

Slowly, he bends and lifts you from the bed. Limp in his arms, you can’t help but smile when he kisses your neck. Eventually, Jungkook pulls himself out – you move to cup yourself, but he’s already there, his hand slipped between you.

Lazily, Jungkook drags his fingers through the mess, mingling your slick with his in slow strokes. When he exhales in satisfaction, you can’t keep your nipples from hardening.

Noticing this, Jungkook chuckles. “You like that?” he murmurs, continuing to play with your pussy. “Like the feel of my cum inside you?”

Wordless, you move your hips against his hand. Other hand traveling up your torso, Jungkook tugs a nipple, and you suck in a breath.

“If you keep doing that,” you whisper, “you’ll make me come again.”

Jungkook pauses. “Want me to?” he asks lowly. “I’d love to eat you out like this.”

On instinct, your lips part and you meet his gaze in the window. Jungkook grins and, before you can respond, he’s guiding you onto your back.

“Is that a yes?” he teases.

“Yeah,” you breathe, staring up at him.

“Shit, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters, staring at your messy sex. “You’re unbelievable.”

Although cock has gone mostly soft, it twitches at the sight. When you spread your thighs wider, Jungkook groans and lowers himself to the sheets.

He starts off slow, trailing his fingers up and down your oversensitive sex. When his touch starts to feel good, Jungkook grips your thigh to open wider.

“Don’t move,” he murmurs, and bends forward.

The first sweep of his tongue makes you sigh. Jungkook eases you into it, avoiding sensitive places, working your body until you writhe beneath him. When he finally takes your clit into his mouth and sucks, you arch clean off the bed. Lowering your hands to his hair, you guide Jungkook with strands wrapped around your fingers.

Growling, Jungkook moves one hand to your thigh to keep you pinned in place. His dark hair is a halo across your skin while he eats his cum from your pussy. Pushing your hips higher, you move in a circle to get him where you want.

Panting, Jungkook looks up. “You taste so good,” he murmurs. “Next time, I’m keeping my cum inside you. Want to pull up your panties and let everyone know that you’re mine.”

You stare at him, shocked and aroused by the concept. It’s something that’s never really intrigued you but now, with him, the thought is appealing.

“And I’m yours,” Jungkook adds, softer.

Before you can melt too much at this statement, he lowers his head and sucks your clit. Groaning aloud, you grab his hair and barely hold on. Finger tracing your entrance, Jungkook strokes and teases while you grind on his face. When he pushes his finger inside, the glide is made even easier by his cum inside you.

“Oh – fuck,” you gasp. “That feels so fucking good, Jungkook.”

“Does it?” Lifting his head, he curls his finger. “You like being this filthy, baby? Like having me eat my own cum from this perfect pussy?”

“Y-es.”

“Good,” he pants. “Because same.”

When you glance down, you nearly come on the spot. Jungkook’s hips are lifted, allowing him access to palm his cock while he eats you out. Stunned, you watch his ass tense while he grinds into his hand. A brief flash of his fingers through legs shows him cupping his balls, giving them a soft tug, and you nearly combust.

“Jungkook,” you groan. “Are you hard yet?”

“Nearly there, princess.”

“Want you inside me,” you say. “Now.”

Immediately, Jungkook pulls back to sit on his heels. Staring intently at your body, he strokes his half-hardened cock.

“Alright,” he said, his voice rough. “Touch yourself. Play with my cum inside you – that’ll get me so fucking hard.”

Spreading your thighs, you trail your fingers up and down your sex. Spreading yourself further, you give Jungkook the view he craves. When you sink a finger inside, he groans in approval and thumbs over his cock.

“Want you,” you say, watching him harden. “Want to feel you so deep in this pussy. Want you to fill me up with your cum and keep it there. Flip me over and fuck me so hard, I can’t walk tomorrow.”

Jungkook grunts, giving himself a final stroke before gripping your thigh to push towards your chest. Thrusting forward, he fills you in one stroke and you both groan in tandem.

“Fuck.” Jungkook stares, watching the last of his cum drip from your pussy. “You’re so goddamn tight, Y/N. Even tighter than before.”

“Feel… feel so full,” you say, breathless.

Jungkook’s gaze sparks as he slowly pulls out. “That’s it,” he breathes, pushing back in. “Gonna fuck all my cum right out of you. Fill you up a second time – you want that?”

“Yes,” you manage. “Please.”

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” he says, fucking you in rough thrusts which drive you up on the bed. “Gotta treat this pussy right.”

“You do,” you groan, face buried in his neck.

Jungkook’s hips are relentless, thrusting into you hard and making you tremble. Clinging to his back, you feel his steady thrusts bring you fast to the edge. You’re so close to breaking when Jungkook abruptly pulls out.

“Jungkook?” you say, dazed. “What are you –”

“Like this,” he says, shifting you to lay on your side. Grasping your knee, Jungkook lifts your thigh, pressing his hips to yours from behind.

Repositioning himself, Jungkook pushes back in. You gasp at the loss of control, everything feeling so wet and tight in the position. Releasing your knee, Jungkook gently pushes you forward to fuck you from behind.

“Jungkook,” you groan, pushing backwards.

“Yeah, princess?”

Your heart skips a beat. “I need… more.”

Sliding his arm beneath your knee again, Jungkook lifts your leg to open your body. The position allows him to get even deeper and, a groan slipping past, your eyes flutter shut.

“Keep your knee up,” Jungkook demands, and releases.

Hand sliding higher, he cups your breast to stroke over a nipple. Teasing, he trails lower to stop above your sex. When you whimper, he gives in and strokes in slow circles. Watching him touch you in the window reflection is an added rush.

“That’s it,” Jungkook murmurs, thrusting harder. “So fucking gorgeous. Ready to come so easily on my cock.”

“For you,” you moan. “Always for you, Jungkook.”

He growls, teeth scraping your neck as he draws his hand away and regrasps your leg. Pulling this higher, he tugs you against him to fuck even harder. Your entire body shudders, on the verge of release.

“Touch yourself,” Jungkook gasps. “I’m about to come.”

You obey, fingers slipping over your clit, lost in the feeling of him deep inside you. Already close to the edge, it doesn’t take long before you tighten around him. Pleasure breaks through you in a hard, quick orgasm which leaves you shattered. Jungkook comes soon after, moving inside you until the last of his cum trickles out.

He stays as long as he can but eventually, Jungkook pulls out. Grabbing a tissue, he returns to clean you and, once done, drops back on the mattress.

“That was…” Jungkook stares at the ceiling. “Amazing.”

Turning over, you loosely drape your arm over his chest. For once in your life, you don’t feel the urge to dissect what just happened. Gently, Jungkook lowers his head to brush a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah,” you exhale.

“I should probably clean up,” he says after a pause. “Want to use my bathroom? I can use the one in the living room.”

“Okay.”

Reluctantly, you pull back to place your feet on the floor. Staring out at the skyline, a thought suddenly occurs to you.

“Am I sleeping in here?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder.

Jungkook hovers, one foot on the ground. “Uh… I assumed so, yeah? Unless you want to stay upstairs?”

“No, no,” you hasten. “I want to stay here.”

“Oh, okay.” His shoulders relax. “Good.”

Jungkook’s grin makes you smile and, after retrieving your bag, you rush to get ready. Rather aggressively, you scrub your face – each second apart feels like wasted time. Once finished, you stare at your pajamas and then shake your head.

Heading to the door, you push it open a crack. Jungkook stands beside his dresser, plugging in his phone to charge. Despite what he said, he’s dressed in a new pair of boxers and not in the nude.

Pointedly, you clear your throat, and he turns.

Seeing you half in, half out of his bathroom, Jungkook lifts a brow. “Yes?”

Innocently, you blink. “Can I borrow a t-shirt?”

Shifting his weight, Jungkook crosses both arms. Again, this makes his biceps pop, and you narrow your gaze. His hotness infuriates you, amongst other feelings.

“Are you going to return any of my other clothing?” Jungkook asks drily. “Because I seem to be missing several other items.”

Eyes wide, you ask, “Are you sure it was me? Maybe your dry cleaner misplaced things.”

“Or I’ve loaned you several things you’ve yet to give back.”

“What can I say?” Grin wide, you shrug. “You smell good. That t-shirt I borrowed is my new favorite nightdress.”

Hearing this, his eyes go hazy with want. Silent, Jungkook turns around to walk towards his dresser. Withdrawing a large, cotton t-shirt, he turns around.

“You can have this,” Jungkook says, “on the condition my other items be returned.”

“Well, sure,” you say, accepting his t-shirt through the door. “Your other clothes don’t smell like you anymore. We’ll need a rotation.”

Faux annoyance vanishing, Jungkook leans down to press a kiss to your lips. “I don’t care,” he murmurs, pulling back. “Keep it. Keep all my shirts. I’ll walk around naked.”

“That would cause some serious traffic problems,” you say, slightly dazed.

Jungkook just grins, gesturing with one finger for you to turn around. Retreating to his bathroom, you slip his t-shirt overhead as you shut the door. Adding a fresh pair of underwear, you zip your bag shut and exit.

Jungkook is already in bed, his covers pulled back and waiting.

“Does Dante always sleep like that?” he asks when you climb inside.

“Like what?”

“You know.” Pulling a face, he mimics your sleeping dog. “On his back, with his tongue out.”

You can’t help but laugh. “That’s his natural state, I’ll have you know. How rude of you to judge him.”

“No judgment! I was scared I broke him.”

Grinning, you slide beneath his sheets. Draping your arm over Jungkook’s waist, you turn your head to rest on his chest. Gently, your fingers trail through the smattering of hair which leads to his boxers.

Frowning, you think about the last time you slept in the same bed. While that night at your apartment was wonderful, the morning after was less so and unthinkingly, your arm tightens. Staring at the ink on his chest, you trace Jungkook’s tattoos with your gaze and remind yourself how different things are.

“That night meant something to me,” he says quietly.

Startled, you look up. “What night?”

Jungkook exhales. “When I stayed at your place. When we slept together, and I… well, it had been a long time since I stayed at someone else’s place. Actually, ever.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He pauses. “I panicked. I woke up and saw you and… I knew this was special.” Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, needing you to understand. “I’d been feeling things for a while, but that was the day I woke up and… I just knew. But you didn’t want more than sex, and there I was, breaking the rules. I was terrified you’d wake up, look at me, and know. So, I left.”

“Jungkook…” you murmur, putting the pieces together.

He exhales. “It was stupid, but there it is. I’m sorry.”

“So, that day… you left because you felt too much?”

“Yeah. I tried to be casual about it in my text, but I think I may have overcompensated.”

Your lips twitch. “I’ll say.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” His gaze softens. “I’m sorry if I did.”

“That makes two of us. But Jungkook… you already apologized for what happened before – so did I. This is a fresh start.”

“A fresh start, mm?” He fights back a yawn. “Sounds nice.”

“Mm.” You return your head to his chest. “Consider this a blank slate.”

Rather than relax, Jungkook tightens beneath you. Uncertain, you lift your head and find him staring at the ceiling. His brow furrows, deep in thought and you wait for him to speak whatever’s on his mind.

“I just… I should tell you more.” He swallows, and you watch his throat work. “About my childhood. About my family, and why I… why I am the way I am.”

“You don’t have to tell me right now,” you say, sensing how difficult this is. “I want to know more – I do. I want to know everything about you, Jungkook. It doesn’t have to be tonight, though. I’m not going anywhere.”

Grateful, Jungkook turns his head to look at you. Grasping your hand in his, he lifts them both to press a kiss to your fingers.

“Tomorrow,” he murmurs, lowering them to his chest. “I just… I want tonight to be about the two of us. No one else.”

You nod because you understand. It’s difficult to let people in; even the ones you want to know more about. Guilt steals through you though, knowing what you already do.

“You should know, though…” You hesitate. “Yoongi mentioned your childhood to me. He didn’t give specifics, but he gave a general idea.”

Jungkook merely chuckles. “I know,” he says softly. “And like I said, I’m not angry. Yoongi was right. I tend to let people think the worst of me – and rather than prove them right, I push them away. It’s something I’m working on in therapy.”

“Therapy, huh?” you murmur. “That’s great, Jungkook.”

“Been seeing them on and off. It’s a lot of change, taking over Jeon Energy. I thought it’d be good to talk through it all.”

“That’s really good,” you agree. “I’ve been thinking of doing the same.”

Jungkook simply nods and accepts this. After all, trauma never really disappears. It just becomes easier to deal with, something to live with and to know how to respond to.

“Anyways.” Jungkook swallows. “I wanted to tell you I’m trying. I want this. I want you. And I want to be better for me, too.”

Heart swelling against your ribcage, you press even closer.

“I want you, too, Jungkook,” you whisper. “It’s hard for me to trust, but I trust you. Completely.”

Cupping your chin in one hand, Jungkook lifts you to him for a kiss. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You know the room you stayed in?” he murmurs.

Brow furrowing, you nod. “Yeah?”

Releasing your chin, Jungkook’s gaze shifts towards the door.

“I made that room for my mom,” he admits. “It was the type of space she liked, a style she would have picked. When she died…” He hesitates. “I was scared I’d lose that warmth in my life. That I’d turn into my father, obsessed with the family business. I think I did for a while,” he confesses, glancing down. “But now…”

Trailing off, Jungkook doesn’t finish his sentence, and you don’t make him. Taking his hand, you lower your head to his chest again. Jungkook’s arm tightens, pulling you closer, and your thigh ends up draped over his.

“You could never be like your dad,” you murmur against his skin. “Granted, I don’t know him well, but I know you, Jungkook. You helped me without asking for anything in return. You changed Jeon Energy from the inside and maybe that took a while, but it’s the kind of change that lasts. You’re the best person I know,” you add, your voice dropping. “If I need to spend the rest of my life reminding you, I’ll do it.”

Gently, Jungkook tilts your chin upward with his thumb. Your gazes meet, and you’re struck by the sudden realization that this man is yours.

Just as you’re his.

“Likewise, princess,” he murmurs and kisses you.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) This is the last chapter in this series. I will be writing an epilogue, but it will take place after this story. I do not have a tag list, so please do not ask to be added or ask about updates. My writing progress can be found in my updates schedule, linked in both my header and FAQ!

[Series Master List]

© kpopfanfictrash, 2022. Do not copy or repost without permission.

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 10

Part 1 Part 9

Steve wakes up cuddling Eddie Munson’s calves to his chest. It barely registers over the sharp stab of pain that had jolted him awake. At some point in his sleep, he’d rolled onto his injured side, and his own weight pressing down into it makes him groan.

He rolls onto his back, letting go of his hold on Eddie’s calves. His other arm is pinned beneath his legs, already full of pins and needles, so he yanks it free. Eddie sits up, smacking his face into one of Steve’s hanging coats.

“What’s it?” he asks, nonsensically, batting the shirt out of his face.

Steve follows his lead, sitting up opposite him. Their knees knock together. Steve doesn’t pull his away.

Eddie’s hair is plastered to the side of his face on one side, lopsided and greasy, and yet his curls are still flyaway, wilder than Steve has ever seen them. His eyes are closed as he swipes his bangs out of his eyes.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Steve says.

Eddie’s eyes slit open, scowl already in place as he looks around, disoriented. Steve can see the exact moment the other boy remembers where they are. His eyes widen before he closes them, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head.

“I was hoping this whole thing was a dream,” he says, voice raspy. “No offense.”

Steve laughs. “Why would I be offended, dude?”

Eddie mutters under his breath. Steve doesn’t ask. If he’s over there talking shit, he’d frankly rather not know.

Eddie finally opens his eyes again. “What now?”

Steve looks at the closed closet door. His minds ticking away, but not going anywhere. “There’s no food,” he says, thinking aloud. “We’ve got water. We can’t kill that thing—”

“—can’t get out of here—”

“—so there’s not much to do, is there?”

He feels young and small, the way he always does when he’s hiding in his closet, knows he’s looking up at Eddie, eyes begging him to contradict what he’s saying. Eddie doesn’t.

His gaze looks just as hollowed out as Steve feels, eyes looking through Steve and into a world they’re no longer a part of. “We should stay here,” he says. “If someone comes looking, they’ll know to check here.”

Left unspoken is that no one is looking.

They crawl out of the closet together. Steve hits his face on that same varsity jacket that had meant so much to him only days before. Now, he’d sell it to the highest bidder for a bag of chips.

Eddie’s standing awkwardly in his bedroom, looking around at all the nothing on the walls, the nothing on the desk. The shell of Steve’s life. He thinks of the mugs and hats hanging in the Munson trailer, the signs of life visible in the dishes in the sink and the blanket folded at the bottom of the couch and aches.

“Can we go to your place instead?” He says it before he makes the decision to open his mouth.

Eddie snaps his gaze away from the blank walls, eyes meeting Steve’s own. “Why?”

Steve looks around at all the nothing again, feels his mouth twisting into a frown, feels his fingernails digging into his palms. “It’s cozier.” He doesn’t look back at Eddie, can’t make himself look away from the picture of the car on his wall. Steve doesn’t even like cars.

“Okay,” Eddie says, quiet. There’s an upward tick of a question at the end of the word that Steve chooses to ignore.

It’s an easy journey. They hear no sounds of pursuit, see no twisted monsters. But his lungs ache with panic until Eddie’s shut the front door of his trailer. Steve never realized they lived so close to one another.

It’s almost funny, when you think about the disparate sounds the shutting of their front door’s make. Steve’s close with a wooden thunk, and the quiet click of the metal bolt hitting home. Eddie’s sounds hollow – like styrofoam. It would be funny if it didn’t make his stomach squirm.

Like a repeat of the standoff in Steve’s own bedroom, they stand awkwardly in the Munson’s living room, the silence stilted. Eddie jiggles his feet, looking around the trailer with the same furrowed brow Steve’d had while eying his own empty bedroom.

Steve doesn’t get it. You can almost feel the people that live here by just stepping inside. It’s so full. What more could you need?

“Wanna get high?” Eddie asks, hands flapping at his sides like he can’t help moving.

“…you trust the drugs you find in this nightmare world?” Steve asks, trying to keep the judgment from his tone, sure he’s not successful.

Eddie smiles so wide his teeth show. He swings the backpack of his shoulders in one fluid motion before dropping it onto the couch and riffling through it. He holds up a metal lunchbox like it’s a prize. His face sags when he opens it.

Steve doesn’t know much about weed, but the jaunty angle both the joints Eddie pulls out don’t look quite right. Eddie straightens them futiley with his fingers before bringing them both up to his nose, sliding them both above his mouth with a showy sniff. His nose wrinkles.

“A little water-logged, but they should be okay, right?” He looks up imploringly at Steve. He shrugs. Eddie looks back down at the joints, lips in a pout. “Is chlorine poisonous?”

“Hasn’t killed me yet.”

Eddie laughs, waving Steve to follow him. “You’re not supposed to drink it, Harrington.”

“It just happens sometimes!” Steve says, following closely behind. “You gotta time your breathing right, or you get a mouthful.”

“And then you swallow it?”

“Fuck off, dude.”

Eddie’s bedroom is a marvel. There are so many posters pinned to the wall, he can barely see the color behind it. There are little trinkets everywhere – guitar picks, rings, little plastic guys that remind him of army men, paint supplies, books, cassettes. There are clothes hanging off his desk chair, guitars mounted on the wall, blankets and sheets balled onto the bed in what looks like a very comfortable nest. There are so many things Steve doesn’t even recognize enough to put a name to.

He walks up to the wall, analyzing what look like band posters. They’re predominantly red and black, angry and vibrant. Steve wants to know what that anger sounds like when plaid on the tape deck he sees on Eddie’s desk. He moves around the room, bringing his fingers up to touch the writing on the guitar – THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS – before thinking better of it and dropping his hand.

It's while he’s bent down, eyeing the little painted dragon on Eddie’s desk that he realizes the other boy has gone alarmingly quiet. When he turns, Eddie is fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, feet shuffling, biting his lip. Steve raises a brow.

“Sorry it’s so messy!” Eddie says, but he blurts it out so fast, it comes out more like, sorryit’ssomessy.

“It’s nice,” Steve says, surprised by how much he means it. “Looks like someone actually lives here.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn pink as he lifts up the ends of his hair to hide the smile Steve can see peeking through like the weirdo he is. He drops the hair to gesture grandly at his messy bed as if it was a limo. Or a chariot. “Well, sit down, my liege.”

Steve does, back against the wall where the headboard would be. Eddie settles down beside him, knees overlapping with the way they’re sitting crisscross.

Eddie holds up one of the joints, licking the edge almost on instinct before grimacing. Steve’s watching his tongue move along the paper, feels something in his gut tense before he looks away.

The first lighter he tries is just as waterlogged as the joints, not even making a spark. Eddie’s cursing up a storm as he leans across Steve to fumble for the lighter propped up on his desk. That one works.

Steve’s been to enough parties to be unsurprised by the skunky musk that quickly fills the room. He’s avoided smoking at all of those parties, though, so the way the smoke fills his lungs leaves him coughing until his throat burns. Eddie slaps his back, hard until he stops choking. It doesn’t help. Steve doesn’t ask him to stop.

“First time?” Eddie asks, clearly teasing. Steve averts his eyes. “Oh, no shit?”

“I play sports, man,” Steve says, reading the titles of the cassettes stacked up on Eddie’s desk to avoid seeing the look on the guy’s face. “Never really seemed worth the lung problems.”

Eddie nudges Steve’s knee with his own. It splays out on top of his and then stays there. “And now?”

He doesn’t want to say it, but it comes spilling out. “You really think we’re going to live long enough to develop lung problems?”

Eddie doesn’t reply, but the weight of his leg grows heavier. Steve revels in the warmth he can feel from his skin, even with the two layers of jeans separating them. It’s so cold here.

“Well,” Eddie starts, and Steve can hear the grin in his voice, so he turns back. His eyes are manic, smile shit-eating and wide. “This is one cherry of yours I don't mind popping."

This time, Steve chokes for a very different reason. He's not sure he minds.

Part 11

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my fic

[vampireapple]

In Memoriam

Humans remember their dead. They remember their loved ones. They remember historical figures. They remember strangers. Death does not mean a human is forgotten.

.  .  .

Gerkun perked up as he scented the mess hall. The human crewmates were back! The three of them had taken leave and gone to earth for a human holiday. He made his way over to the table to eat with them.

“Hello, how was your trip?” he asked cheerfully.

“It was great,” Sam replied smiling.

“Long,” was Ron’s reply.

"It was nice to be home," Ethan said.

Gerkun noticed a new mark on Ethan’s arm. “Oh no, are you injured?”

Ethan looked at his arm. “Oh, no. I got a tattoo on leave.”

Gerkun had heard of humans marking themselves in such ways. He had never seen it in person. It looked like an image of an earth plant, vibrant colors and earth marking underneath.

“Why did you get this tattoo?”

“For my grandma, to honor her.”

“Ah. She must be very important on earth.”

Ethan laughed. “In the grand scheme of things? No. Unless you count winning first place in the Newcount County Fair Pie Contest for 47 years in a row as ‘very important’. I just miss her.”

Gerkun did not understand the reason for the tattoo, but he did understand being separated from clan. “Ah, yes. Distance is a hardship.”

Ethan blinked. “Um, yeah, it is. Didn’t mean to mislead you though. My grandma passed about four years ago. I got this to honor her memory.”

“Passed? Where did she go?”

“She died.”

Gerkun paused, trying to understand this new information. “So why remember her?”

Ethan jerked back. The other humans stared at Gerkun.

“Excuse me?”

“She is dead, therefore no longer important. Why-”

Gerkun cut off as Ethan yelled, stood, and tried to strike Gerkun with his chair. The only reason he did not make contact was because Ron and Sam both stopped him. Ethan continued to yell, even as he was held back.

“Don’t you ever (censored) talk about my grandma again you (censored) piece of (censored)! I will (censored) end you!”

Gerkun rapidly backed up, wanting to get away from the angry human. Ron was able to pull Ethan away and out of the mess hall.

Sam glared at Gerkun. “You’ve heard about human pack bonding, right? That doesn’t end when someone dies. Never insult a dead human, especially a family member.” She took a deep breath. “For your own safety, I suggest you avoid Ethan until… forever.”

Gerkun watched her go, stiff with fear. Yes, he would avoid Ethan. And any other human for the rest of his life.

.  .  .

The humans of the ship had what Kersurth thought of as ‘Human Bonding Time’. The humans called it ‘Weekly Chillout.’ Kersurth would often attend simply to listen to their stories. Humans told a lot of stories. Most were horrifying. Kersurth was addicted.

This week the humans had gathered the comfortable chairs around a table filled with snacks. They were waiting for one more person. Shortly after the unofficial start time Jessica walked into the room. She thunked a large glass bottle on the table.

“This week is the one-year anniversary of my aunt’s passing. To honor her memory, I want to tell family stories or legends. To make it extra special I am sharing my family’s moonshine with you creations.”

The five other humans made awed noises, looking at the glass bottle appreciatively. Jessica pulled out six very small glass cups, filled each other with the clear liquid from the large glass bottle and dispersed them amongst the rest of the humans. Once each human had a glass they raised the hand holding the glass, knocked them together, yelled “Cheers!” and drank the liquid in one swallow. Each human made various noises of satisfaction.

Kersurth had no idea why the humans were doing this, or what the liquid was. Humans had such strange customs.

“Thanks Jess,” Michael said. “Is this the stuff you’ve been bragging on?”

Jessica nodded. “Yeah. Secret family recipe starting from the days of Prohibition in the Appalachian Mountains, and perfected in the next few generations.”

Alanna refilled her glass and then tipped it in Jessica’s direction. “I, for one, truly apricate the bounty you have gifted us with. I was going to share the story of when the pigs got loose on the farm when my prissy aunt and cousins were visiting. But, in honor of this fine ‘shine, I’ll share the story of my great, great, great….”

Alanna paused and stared at her fingers. She used them to count as she spoke “my great, great, great, great, great grandpa.” She looked up and smiled at the rest of the group. “He was a bootlegger during Prohibition.”

Adam raised his little glass. “Here, here!”

Alana tapped her glass against his before continuing her story.

“My grandpa didn’t actually make the booze. He lived in Michigan at the time, and he was part of the team that got booze from Canada and took it to Chicago. He was on the second run. The cops were in on it, too. The ‘leggers would pay them, and in return the ‘leggers would only spend six months in jail, on rotation. So, on paper it looked like the cops were doing good work, which kept the Feds off their backs.”

Alanna added a few more stories, including the time her ancestor used his 8-year-old daughter as distraction by putting her on top of the booze on a donkey lead cart. The group was laughing by the time Alanna was done with her stories.

Kersurth had rarely seen them laugh so much. It was a little disturbing. He also understood very little of the story. He assumed he was missing a lot of historical and cultural context.

Justin smacked his glass down on the table and refilled for the fourth time. “Okay, in continuation of the alcohol and ancestors, I have a story about a great, great, something uncle of mine. He’s the reason its illegal to drive a tractor drunk in the state of Kansas.”

The following story Justin told had Michael and Alanna laughing so hard they were wheezing. Erica fell out of her chair and it took her a moment to collect herself enough to get off the floor.

Again, Kersurth did not understand the humans. They seemed to find the stories entertaining, but why bother to remember them? The ones they spoke of were long dead. Why bother to remember them?

Humans were weird.

.  .  .

Veertomic was very pleased to have been selected to study human social behavior. They were complex, and seemingly half the rules changed depending on the region. It was fascinating.

Today was a special day. Her sponsor, Daniel, was taking her to a memorial. She had seen memorials before, for soldiers fallen in battle, for great heroes, of people of historical significance, even cemeteries filled with small memorials to the dead humans. The great pyramids in Egypt were just elaborate tombs. For a species brimming with life they had a weird obsession with death.

Which made today so interesting. They were going to a memorial site where a ceremony was going to be held. The location was a small garden. A new plague had been erected, with a lot of names on it. A man stood and gave a small speech. A fire had happened at this location, one hundred years ago to the day. 107 people had lost their lives and 54 people were injured. They were dedicating a new plague. The man read the names of all 161 victims of the fire. Then there were 11 minutes of silence, one minute for every hour the fire burned. All in all it was a touching ceremony.

Veertomic had so many questions. She needed to be very… delicate in how she approached Daniel. He was even tempered but she found humans could be volatile over the topic of death.

“I would ask a few clarifying questions about today’s ceremony.”

Daniel raised his eyebrows. “Shoot.”

“You were not related too any of the deceased?”

“No, I’m not.”

“And you didn’t know them?”

“No, this happened waaay before I was born.”

“And you don’t know anyone who was related to any of the victims?”

“No.”

“Then… why attend?” Why are they important Veertomic does not ask, but that’s what she really wants to know.

Daniel looked somber. “Because they deserve to be remembered.”

“Why?” bursts out of her, and she cringes, hoping she didn’t make him mad.

Daniel doesn’t get mad. Instead his facial expression, body language, and tone convey ‘this is a very important human thing’ as he explained further. “Those 107 people died in a horrific was that should not happen to anyone. It was a tragedy that should be remembered. They had family, friends, hopes, dreams, ambitions. They lived and they should be remembered.”

.  .  .

AN: My Grandma passed in January 2020, my favorite uncle passed very unexpectedly in March 2022, and a friend passed from cancer in June 2022. My other story, Grief, delt with that. This story is more about remembering and honoring those who have passed.

The uncle from Kansas comment is from Tumblr user @patternsinnoise. Just Shower Thoughts posted about people being forgotten within three generations, and patternsinnoise replied "Tell that to my great, great uncle, who is the reason that it’s illegal to drive a tractor while drunk in the state of Kansas”.

The story about the pigs, and the bootlegger grandfather are based on actual stories from my family. My great grandma really was used a few times to throw off suspicions.

#earth is space australia #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #aliens #humans are deathworlders #pack bonding

[magswrite]

prompt: devotion (april 8th). 1,369 words. @jegulus-microfic. cw: mentions of murder/blood

James shuffles side-to-side as he rehearses the words in his head, wondering whether the rumpled flowers in his hand will be enough for Regulus to forgive him. They’re his favorite, of course—dahlias, acquired earlier that morning, but James can still picture Regulus giving them one look and tossing them away.

“Regulus, I’m sorry,” he says. Or—

“—Regulus, I’m sorry. Regulus. I’m sorry.”

He keeps his voice low—low enough that James knows it won’t be audible through the front door of Regulus’ apartment. Under the sound of his muttered words, his heart is beating fast, thunk, thunk, thunk. Whether it’s quickened because of Regulus, or because he’s nervous, James isn’t quite sure.

But, when the door finally opens after a series of determined knocks, revealing a slightly-disheveled Regulus, his heart seems to stop for a second. Regulus has a determined sort-of look in his eyes, and a shiver runs up James’ spine.

“Reg—“

“James, I’m sorry,” Regulus says. “Now really isn’t the best time.”

At that, James’ stomach flips a little, thinking of the speech he’d prepared. Regulus, I’m sorry. The date with Frank—it was a mistake. You know how I feel about you. You know that, under any other circumstance, I’d hardly think about going out with someone else—

And it falls away at the tip of his tongue. Regulus Black apologizing?

“I just,” James starts. The flowers are still clutched in his hand. “Can we talk? Inside, for a moment?”

Something flashes in Regulus’ eyes, and he starts to shake his head, his curls bouncing slightly.

“—I know,” James cuts him off, before he can say anything else. “Bad time. But Reg, I’msosorry.”

It comes out far less elegant than James had pictured it. Still, Regulus hasn’t shut the door in his face, so James figures he’s doing something right.

“I never would have gone out with Frank if I hadn’t—if you weren’t—“

Regulus raises an eyebrow, as though he’s telling James to tread carefully. “—Iwantedtomakeyoujealous.”

Fuck me, James thinks. He’s really bad at all this confessing stuff. Still, it’s out, and that’s better than James has done in the past. He has a history of flirting terribly with crushes, only to never speak the unspoken. And the date with Frank had just been a bad idea, too. James could still see the expression on Regulus’ face after he’d caught him and Frank at the restaurant, going all pouty through the window.

Fortunately, a smile starts to spread across Regulus’ face. An actual smile. His eyes flicker from the dahlia’s in James’ hands, and up to his face, to the hand running nervously through his hair, and something seems to flip.

“Jealous?” He teases, leaning up against the doorframe. “What makes you think I’d be jealous of Frank Longbottom?

At Regulus’ expression, James resists the urge to roll his eyes. James might like to play aloof, but he isn’t, really. He’s terribly obsessive, actually, and has been with Regulus for the better part of a year.

Fortunately, Regulus hasn’t turned him away yet.

“Well,” James says. “Call it an instinct.”

“And you would say your instincts are good?”

“Yes. Generally speaking,” James answers.

The gears seem to be turning in Regulus’ head at the reply, the cool of the night air surely sweeping into the house.

After a few moments of silence, James asks, “Can I come in?”

The same expression remains upon Regulus’ face—what seems to be disbelief—before something seems to flip.

“Sure,” Regulus states, voice cold. “Yes, you can come in. Just—”

The door shuts. It’s probably a minute of silence on the other side before James hears him undo the chain on the other side, and open the door completely. 

“I’ll get some water for the flowers,” Regulus says, voice in that some stone-like tone. “Take a seat.”

It’s more a demand than a request, though James has no place to argue. He takes a seat at Regulus’ countertop—cool and marble—and holds the flowers dutifully.

Regulus comes back with a vase, black like the dahlias, and sets them upon their side. Then, he pulls out a pair of shears, and sets them next to the vase. For pruning, James thinks.

“Champagne?”

James nods instantly, thinking of the reprieve a bit of liquid courage might bring. He still feels as if every glance of Regulus’ eyes is burning his skin in judgement. Or in something else he can’t quite put his finger on.

Wandering away from the counter, Regulus takes his time pulling out a bottle of Moet and two flutes. The champagne opens with a pop (over the sink, of course, because Regulus is the tidiest person James knows) and Regulus pours two foaming glasses, setting one in front of James.

When James finally curls his fingertips around the glass, he drinks half the pour in one sip. Somehow, the two of them manage to operate in solitude without any awkwardness—part of the reason James is so in love with Regulus in the first place.

Regulus takes a sip of his own, and then begins to snip away the ends of the dahlias, setting each of them into the vase.

“Talk,” he says, and James does.

“I don’t know when it started, really, because I think I’ve always been in love with you…”

He recalls, first, with how they met. How he’d felt when he first saw Regulus walk into the room at Sirius’ birthday, some sort of angel touching down on earth. Regulus seems to think it’s funny, because a small smile graces the corners of his lips at the memory, and James continues.

While talking, he can’t quite bring himself to look at Regulus, and so his eyes search everywhere else. They search Regulus’ fingers as they unweave flowers from the bouquet, snipping away the bad bits with a snip. They search the dim light of the kitchen, lit almost-romantic, searching little details about Regulus’ life he hadn’t picked up on the few other times he’d been to the apartment.

There’s a painting, hanging in the living room, that James hadn’t noticed before. Or a stack of books, in the corner, of which James wishes desperately to know the contents. Or in the hall, chased almost entirely in shadow, where there’s a hint of red scattered over the floor, perhaps a carpet—

“James?” Regulus interrupts.

He’s stopped trimming the flowers. Instead, the black dahlias are pulled into a perfect arrangement. Perfectly planned.

James realises he’d stopped talking.

“Sorry,” he says. “Lost my train of thought.”

Suddenly, his throat seems rather—parched.

“Water?”

Regulus tilts his head to the side. “Please. Glasses are above the sink.”

James manages up out of the chair, his limbs feeling heavier than he’d been before his monologue. Love, he supposes, does that to you.

He manages to make it to the sink, everything feeling a bit hazier by the second, and turn on the tap for a glass of water. It’s only when he’s dipped the glass just under the faucet that things start to feel a bit—wrong.

There’s a bit too much red in the sink, isn’t there?

James’ eyes flicker back to the hall, back to where his gaze had lingered just a moment before. He can’t quite—can’t quite see it, but he thinks—

“James?” Regulus interrupts, again.

His eyes snap back down to the sink. Then, to the knife block. Back to the sink. A bit too much red, he thinks, again. 

And he realizes, then, that it hadn’t been a carpet at all.

“Are you okay?” Regulus continues.

It'd been Frank.

“Reg—what did you do?”

James hates how his voice seems to come out a bit pathetic.

The expression on Regulus’ face flickers, for a moment. The false kindness. Then, suddenly, it falls away, and James feels as though he’s looking at an entirely different person. He’s not sure he wants to look away.

“Thank you,” Regulus says. “For your platitudes of devotion.”

There’s a speck of blood, by his ear. James can see it now—now that he’s so close.

“I hope you’ll thank me for mine.”

Before the world goes black, James can feel Regulus’ hands wrap fast around him.

#this is vaguely inspired by you #i've never watched you #but i'd like to think it is? #jegulus #sunseeker #starchaser #james x regulus #regulus black #james potter #regulus x james #jegulus fanfiction #microfic #jegulus microfic #marauders #marauders era

[avocado-writing]

notes: this was so much fun!! thank you! people who ask for tltdatsib fics make my heart go 💞💓💗💕💖💘💝

pairing: aziraphale x reader x crowley

rating: T

You’re at the pub which is, secretly, one of your favourite places. There’s nothing like being surrounded by alcohol and a throng of people to make you feel just that little bit more human. To forget you’re an immortal being who death didn’t become and pretend you’re just like every other person here, enjoying a drink and the ambience.

It’s Crowley’s round so you and Aziraphale are sequestered away in your favourite booth, the one that just happened to be free when you walked in. The three of you went to go and see a play earlier so you and Aziraphale are discussing it in great detail, so totally wrapped up in your conversation that you don’t notice someone has begun to lurk.

A cleared throat jolts you both out of the moment and back to reality. A man is smiling down at you in that way English people do where it doesn’t quite reach their eyes. 

“Mr Fell!” he says, enthusiastic and condescending at once, “Just the man I wanted to see. I wanted to check that you’d be voting on Friday about the council’s proposed change to parking permits?”

Aziraphale blinks, blankly. You pick up your wineglass to drain the dregs of it, and as you do whisper: “Mr Brown” just loudly enough for the angel to hear.

“Oh! Right, yes. I’m sure I’ll find time to pop along,” he lies. Mr Brown doesn’t seem to have yet clocked that your husband can be a voracious fibber when he wants to be and seems placated with this, but as he goes to leave he clocks you a bit more thoroughly, especially the way Aziraphale’s hand is perched lovingly on your knee.

“You’re a little bit young for him, aren’t you?”

The absolute brazenness of this statement knocks you for six. Aziraphale’s eyes widen, flabbergasted. All the two of you can do is sit there utterly perplexed.

“I’m sorry?” you manage to choke out. It’s not just that you’re old enough to be his great-to the power of a hundred-grandparent, but that he'd have the gall to say that sentence out loud. Brown sniffs.

“All I’m saying is–”

“Hell-o.”

Crowley’s timing is immaculate. He’s got another two bottles of Zinfandel in his hands and puts them onto your table with a decisive thunk. 

“Can we help you?” If there’s one person who can make that sentence sound like fuck off, it’s Crowley. When Brown doesn’t answer Crowley raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“I was…”

“Because it seems like you’re bothering my spouses while we’re out for a drink, which wouldn’t be very neighbourly of you.”

It’s Mr Brown’s turn to look shocked now, his eyes darting between the three of you.

“Spouses?” 

Crowley wiggles his fingers in front of Brown’s face, his golden wedding band shining in the low light of the pub. 

“Yes, plural. Now, unless you have anything to add to our conversation – which I highly doubt – I think you ought to scuttle back to your little carpet store and remove your nose from other peoples’ business, don’t you?”

Sufficiently cowed, Brown quickly makes his exit with his tail between his legs. Crowley looks over to the pair of you.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just a bit taken aback,” you confess. Aziraphale squeezes your knee.

“Thank you, Crowley,” he says, before turning to you, “I’m so sorry love, I didn’t–”

“Aziraphale, love, there’s nothing to apologise for. I can’t believe that just happened.” You let Crowley top your glass up, take a drink, and then muse: “He is a bit right though.”

“What?”

“Well, I’m, what, two thousand years old? Ish? And you both must be at least six thousand. I suppose you are cradle snatchers.”

They choke on their wine, and you laugh.

-

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul  @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @night-affiliate @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe

#ineffable husbands x reader #good omens x reader #aziraphale x reader x crowley #Request #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

[beachylupin]

pls write something with eddie

this was made very quickly, so i'm sorry if it's bad :-( let me know if you'd like to see more eddie content/of this duo word count: 1.3k warnings: pretty cliche tbh, kinda fluffy, this is kinda tame for me lol

Freakin' Out || Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Cheer practice ran until six, and you had no problem with that, except for the fact that it was pitch dark thanks to daylight savings coming to an end.

With your backpack slung over your shoulders, you began your mile and a half walk home.

Usually, you loved the walk home, but as it got darker, colder, and windier, you were wishing you would’ve bucked up the courage and asked your friends for a ride home. However, the cool November air felt good on your warm face, cheeks reddened from running.

A win-lose situation.

Instead of listening to your walkman while you walked, you decided to listen to the sounds around you, noticing how there were still middle schoolers on the basketball courts, screaming and laughing. How quiet the birds got as the wind picked up.

How a stick broke in the woods ahead of you, followed by a rustle of leaves.

You zipped up your jacket, a chill shooting down your spine. You silently thanked yourself for changing into your cheer sweats before leaving the high school, and approached the woods, daring to look inside as you passed.

It was pitch black, the trees knocking together with soft thunks in the wind. You could’ve sworn you saw something dart between the trees. With a shiver down your back, you looked away, focusing on the road ahead of you.

Hawkins was fairly safe, except for the fact that the Byers’ boy went missing a few Novembers ago. Luckily he was safe now, but what if you weren’t going to be? What if tonight was the night of your demise?

Glancing back at the woods, you could hear another skitter amongst the leaves. You swallowed thickly, picking up your pace to slightly brisker.

You knew there was something that lived in the woods, whether it was a bear, or a coyote, or even the rumored monster. You didn’t want to know what exactly it was, but just the fact that something was most definitely in there scared you.

A stick broke behind you this time, causing you to bristle.

You threw a quick, inconspicuous look over your shoulder at the woods, catching the shadow of a man passing under the streetlamp on the sidewalk, his head up as he stared at it.

Your eyes were wide when you turned to look at your white tennis shoes.

Someone was definitely following you.

You began walking faster, your pace near that of an early-morning power walk group. Your heartbeat was seemingly faster than your walk, thumping loudly in your ears.

You didn’t know how to defend yourself. Honestly, you couldn’t even throw a punch. You could run, sure, but then they’d know where you lived. You felt your heart in your toes as you looked over your shoulder again.

This time he was looking at you.

Whining to yourself, you quickened your pace to a near jog.

Your mom refused to buy you a knife, so you didn’t even have protection. How on Earth were you-

“Hey!” The man called out from behind you, and your head felt heavy.

You ambled over the train tracks, desperately trying not to trip. You didn’t want to be one of those stupid girls in the movies that fall and get killed by the bad guy.

The footsteps quickened behind you.

His ringed hand met your shoulder as he sidled up next to you, blurting quickly, “I’m not a stalker, I promise.” Catching your terror-stricken glance was Eddie Munson, his brown eyes wide as he breathed your name. “I-I live down the block from- Are you okay?” His hand emphasized his words, squeezing lightly.

“I’m fine. I’m fine,” you huffed, contradicting the way you shook your head, staring at your feet in embarrassment. “I just-”

“I didn’t mean to startle ‘ya,” he said, patting your arm lightly. “I didn’t even notice you until you almost started running. I’m not a stalker.”

“I know that,” you said pointedly, lifting your head to glance into the woods again. “You’re just usually in that van.”

“She needed an…” Eddie petered off, following your gaze. “See something?”

You shook your head, mumbling and looking back to your feet, “No! No.”

“Oh-kay,” Eddie said slowly, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked to the side of your face. “As I was saying-” He now looked ahead, hands in his pockets. “My van needed an oil change so today, I walk.”

“I see,” you said quietly, turning off Cornwallis, the street lamps seemingly getting dimmer the closer to the trailer park the two of you got.

“Why are you walking? I know Debby has her license,” he said, most likely hearing the cheerleader’s constant speech about her cherry red coupe. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, smacking the box against his hand.

You looked at him, already finding him staring, an amused expression on his face. “I live in the trailer court, Eddie,” you stated, turning back to the road. “People would talk.”

“Your friends have never been to your house?” He asked, a cigarette between his lips, eyebrows disappearing in his bangs. 

You shook your head, the grip you had on the straps of your backpack tightening. “Mom drops me off when she isn’t working,” you said, feeling pathetic at your confession. “Or I meet them up on Cornwallis. I’m guessing they just assume I live in one of those houses.”

“Oh,” was all Eddie said, staring straight ahead. His eyebrows furrowed briefly, as if he was deep in thought before he lit his cigarette. “Mom can’t give you a ride home?”

You shook your head. “Works ‘til ten,” you mumbled, briefly glancing into the woods as a stick snapped. Eddie noticed, his gaze following yours again as he puffed his cigarette.

“It’s probably just a deer,” he mumbled, smiling slightly when you looked at him. “Or did you want to hear it was a bad guy?”

You almost rolled your eyes, narrowing them instead. “No,” you said defensively. “You’re right. It probably is just a deer, but ‘s dark. I’m just freakin’ out about nothing.”

“Only gonna get darker,” he chuckled, a smirk growing on his mouth. “What are you going to do in the winter?” Eddie asked, puffing his cigarette again and blowing it out of the side of his mouth. “Walk in the snow?”

“I walked home every day last year,” you said, turning into the trailer park, the road turning from tar to gravel. “It isn’t a big deal.”

Eddie sighed, the unserious smirk dropping from his lips as he flicked his cigarette to the ground, crunching the butt against the rocks. “I can’t let you walk,” he said, his hands in his pockets again. “I’ll give you a ride.” As you opened your mouth to argue, he laughed to himself, “I know, I know. People would talk if you got in the freak’s van,” he said, taking the words out of your mouth with a slight smile. “I’d park in the back so nobody would see you- us together.”

You looked at him, seeing if he was actually serious.

He was already staring, eyebrows raised hopefully. “Okay?” He asked, slowing down as he approached the Munson trailer. “We’re supposed to get a lot of snow this year.”

You sighed in response, looking down the road at your trailer. He was trying to convince you to let him take you home. He wanted to give you a ride, and it didn’t seem like it was just because he felt bad for you. You stood straighter.

“Is six okay?” You asked, glancing at him. “Same time as today?”

He nodded, his smile growing. “I’ll see you then.”

“Okay,” you said, rocking from the balls of your feet to your tiptoes, feeling awkward, like you were supposed to hug him or something and not just stand there. You cleared your throat. “Okay, bye.”

Without letting him respond, you turned on the ball of your foot, quickly walking away to your trailer, trying to decide if you made the right decision.

#answered ask #anon <3 #filled request #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic

[miamierre]

alonso+stroll. no.9. YOU GOTTA 😹 ( i mean you dont but i saw you saying sth so if u wanna practice i gotcha babe) 🩷

9: one night stand but the next morning you learn it's your CEO's kid

In hindsight, Fernando realizes it probably wasn't the best decision to take the kid home from the bar. Nothing good happens in Manhattan on a Thursday after 11pm, and especially not when the next day involves a quarterly presentation that his team has been scrambling to put together for months, now. If he were smarter, maybe he'd have called it a night after the last toast with his analysts. Hell, maybe he wouldn't have shown up at all.

The thing is, right after their row of chairs at the bar had cleared, Fernando had turned to look for one of the senior leadership teams and ended up with a face full of unidentifiable blazer--which had, of course, ended up being Lance. Lance, who'd apologized and introduced himself blandly but with a glint in his eye. Lance, who'd offered to buy Fernando a drink with a dark, raised brow that'd been urging him on.

Lance, who's now dragging him to the too-small bathroom at the back of the bar like his life depends on it. Fernando is far too many drinks in to protest such a blessing, this stranger and his big hands pawing at his belt like a desperate puppy: he'll just have to roll with it instead. "Easy," he chuckles, voice sounding distant to his own ears, "easy, princesa, this is my nicest suit." It's not, really, but Lance doesn't need to know that. They have to slow it down or he's going to make a mess of--well, of himself. It's been a long time since he hooked up with someone like this in a bathroom of all places. He's not 27 anymore.

"Really?" His companion's voice is breathy but clearly disbelieving, both brows now arched at his words. "It's not that nice." Fernando is too drunk to be immediately irritated, which works in his favor, because in a beat Lance's face breaks into a shit-eating grin, head thunking back against the stall carelessly, like he knows what he's doing. "I've wiped my ass with nicer."

Such an asshole. Fernando huffs a half-formed laugh, then thwacks his arm heavily into Lance's chest, knocking a little uff from him. "You talk too much," he counters, forcing his weight into Lance a little more. The low groan of approval he gets in return just makes him put a little more effort into it. "What, is playing with daddy's money not enough for you?" The younger man's eyes seem to glaze over at his tone. "You want to see what it is like to do real work, hm, is that it." Fernando's not going to bother trying to make this work here and now--he's going to drag this rich pretty boy back to his apartment on 57th Street, and he's going to fuck all this haughty, smug energy right out of him.

Lance goes easily, and the night passes all too quickly. The mess left behind when he scrabbles for his now-filthy blazer and all but disappears from Fernando's place before dawn is the only proof he'd ever been there in the first place. It's probably for the better, anyway: he's now working against the clock to put himself together and keep all of his Q4 talking points in relative order instead of think about the noises he'd ripped from that stranger sharing his bed all night.

He's going to secure that end-of-year bonus for his team the moment he walks through the conference room doors--

of course, that's before he sees Lance sitting in that same now-clean blazer at the end of the table, seated next to Fernando's CEO and picking at his nails uninterestedly.

Side by side, the resemblance is uncanny.

"Oh, fuck."

#EVERYONE BE NICE TO ME I DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE EITHER OF THESE MEN #thank you akira ily #strollonso #fic #romance prompt meme #ask reply #effervescentdragon #AU tag

[leiawritesstories]

A Memory of Your Love

Rowaelin Month, Day 19: Telling the kids about their tattoos

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: none, it's sappy melty fluffy goodness (i swear)

Enjoy!

@rowaelinscourt

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mama.” The small voice was accompanied by a series of rapid knocks on Aelin’s partially-open office door. “Are you very busy, Mama? Da said you’d be busy.” 

Aelin set down her quill and turned away from her desk, finding her second child, her son, poking his head through the crack in her door. “No, my boy, I’m not busy.” She stood, digging one hand into the small of her back–gods, sitting down for too long was terrible for her spine–walked over, and opened the door. “Come in, Bran. What do you need?” 

Bran–Prince Brannon Whitethorn Galathynius–shuffled into the office, uncharacteristically quiet and shy. Normally, he was the most vivacious of the royal children, always with a laugh on his lips and a prank brewing in his mischievous mind. He got that from his mother. “I want to practice with the knives,” he said slowly, haltingly. 

Aelin nodded. “And do you need someone to go with you?”

Sheepishly, he nodded. “Yeah. Da said I can’t be there alone, not yet.” 

“Not yet,” she agreed. “When you’re a little more comfortable with the blade work, or maybe when you’re a little older, then you can go alone. Just not yet.” 

He frowned. “Why not? All the other boys my age go out into the yard by themselves.” 

“Ah, but they’re with each other, no?” 

“Uh…yeeeeees?” 

“That’s right, my son.” Aelin cracked a grin at her son’s slight flush. “You’re welcome to train with them, you know.” 

“Don’t want to,” he mumbled. “I’m not good enough.” 

“Now that’s just horseshit,” she scoffed. 

In her mind, Rowan flinched. Fireheart!

What? she snarked. You know he’s heard worse from those hulking brutes you call friends. “Bran, you are good enough. They aren’t going to make fun of you.” She ruffled his hair affectionately. “Yes, I’ll go practice with you.” She winked. “Anything to sneak away from the boring paperwork.”

That made him snicker. “Are you going to make Da do the paperwork, then?” 

“Maybe.” She led him out of her office and down towards the training yard. “It’s good for him to pretend like he has responsibilities every once in a while.” 

I heard that.

I know. She blew her grumpy buzzard an invisible kiss. 

Bran was at the door to the training yard. “Come on, Mama!”

“Just a minute,” she laughed. “I can’t train in this dress, it’s too frilly.” She ducked into a side room and changed into a loose, comfortable tunic and pants. “All right, I’m ready.”

“Come on!” Bran pushed open the door and bounded out into the training yard, running for the fenced-off area used for knifeplay. “I beat you, Mama!” 

“You did,” she laughed, catching up with him. “I must be getting old.” 

~

For a good hour, she sparred against her son, working with him on his form and his technique, especially taking a chunk of time to show him how to throw a knife. Bran had been wanting to learn that skill for a while, and she decided he was ready, no matter what his overprotective father and uncles thought. 

Bran drew a deep breath, locked his turquoise eyes on the target, exhaled, and released the knife. It sliced through the air and embedded itself in the ring just outside the bulls-eye. “I did it!” he screeched, jumping up and down in thrilled excitement. “I did it, Mama!” 

“You certainly did,” she praised. “I don’t think I could have done any better.” 

He beamed. “Dare you, Mama!” 

“Oh do you, now?” Challenge sparked in her bright eyes. “Stand back, B. I don’t want to hurt you.” She took her mark on the chalked line, inhaled, locked her eyes on her target, tipped her arm back, and launched her blade. Her tunic slipped, partially exposing her shoulder–perils of wearing her mate’s clothing rather than her own–but her knife flew straight down its intended path and buried itself right next to Bran’s knife with a thunk. “How’s that, Your Highness?” she teased. 

Bran sprinted over to check the target and came back with the biggest, brightest smile plastered all over his face. “Mine was closer!” 

“No!” Aelin exclaimed in contrived shock. “I really am losing my touch!” She grinned down at her son. “Congratulations, Bran, you’ve just out-thrown your queen.” 

His attention flicked from the target to his mother and back again, a question creasing his forehead. 

She knelt and met his eye level. “What is it, my son?” 

“Your tattoo,” he said, unexpectedly. “I know you have one, I just…it looks like wings. Why is it wings, Mama? Shouldn’t it be fire?” 

Aelin was quiet, thinking through how much to say. I can’t just brush him off.

No. We knew we would have to tell them eventually.

Right. Just…how much?

As much as you want. Rowan sent reassurance pulsing down the bond. We can talk to him and Lana later tonight, both of us.

I’d like that. With Rowan’s strength at her back, she took Bran’s hands. “Da did it for me.” 

His childish face lit up with interest and wonder. “When?” 

“Before…” She trailed off, her gaze going distant for a moment. “Before we settled. Before you and Lana were even thoughts in our minds.” She noticed his furrowed brow, and she squeezed his hands in comfort. “Da and I are going to tell you and your sister about it later tonight, because you’re old enough and you deserve to know more of our story. I’m not dismissing you, I promise; you just need to wait for a little longer, okay?” 

Slowly, he nodded. “Okay,” he replied. “Can I ask you one more thing?” 

“Of course.” 

“Did it hurt?” 

“Some,” she said, honestly. “But your father was with me, and that made it easier.” 

~

Rowan wore a sleeveless shirt to dinner that night, the soft gray linen exposing the defined grooves of his muscles and the full breadth of the script inked down his arm. Aelin chose a dress that dipped low in the back, low enough to display the wings unfurled across her shoulder blades. She frowned as she laced the silken material up the side–it was almost at the point where she couldn’t wear it in public, else it would reveal too much. Just to be sure, she turned to the side and checked her profile, relieved when her reflection showed that the skirt still billowed out high enough to conceal the swelling of her abdomen. 

Stunning. Her husband padded up behind her on near-silent feet, slid his powerful arms tenderly around her waist. His tattooed hand splayed over her stomach. “How much longer?” 

“Another few weeks before we tell the children.” She laid her hand over his. “At least a month before anyone else even suspects.” Lest we…lose them.

“Of course.” Rowan dipped his head and brushed a whisper of a kiss across her pulse point. I love you, he murmured into her soul. 

Aelin melted into him. As I love you. 

Lana and Bran were full of anticipation and eager chatter at dinner, both children more than willing to ramble on about their days. Bran seemed to be back to his usual mischievous self, busily flicking tiny crumbs and a pea or two at his sister when he thought nobody was watching. Lana returned the favor by gradually increasing the heat of her brother’s chair, silverware, and even clothes, making him squirm in mild discomfort and drop his fork with a yelp when he picked it up and it nearly burned him. 

Unsurprisingly, though, when dinner was over and they moved into the small, cozy, private living room reserved exclusively for the family, both Lana and Bran went quiet, settling down onto the small sofa and watching their parents expectantly. 

Aelin settled into her chair and spoke first. “So you want to know about our tattoos.” 

“Mhmm.” Lana nodded. “Well, I know about Father’s. Mostly.” 

“Do you?” Rowan wore a half-grin. 

“Uncle Lorcan told me it’s a record of your life and a memory of your love.” 

“Uncle Lorcan talks too damn much.” 

Aelin snickered. “Admit it, buzzard, that was a very lovely description.” 

Rowan grumbled. “Fine. Lorcan can be civil once in a while.” He nodded. “Yes, that’s the most basic description of my tattoos.” 

“You did them yourself, right?” Bran asked. 

“Mostly. Gavriel helped, a little.” 

Bran tilted his head. “And you did Mama’s?” 

“He did,” Aelin confirmed. “Both times.” 

“Both times?” Lana and Bran chorused, wearing twin expressions of disbelief. 

“Both times.” Aelin shared a long, laden look with Rowan. “This set–” she turned around and let her children see the full expanse of the ink scripted across her back–“was done just before we kicked the shit out of the Valg once and for all.” 

“Language,” Rowan sighed, teasingly. 

Aelin huffed a laugh. “Says you. Like your father’s, my tattoos are my story. All of it–who I once was, who I became, who I am now.” She whispered under her breath, and two of the symbols glowed blue for a few seconds. “Those are your names, my loves, in the Old Language.” 

“That’s us?” Lana breathed, both awe and tears clogging her words. 

“That’s you,” Aelin murmured. “Your idiot father also wrote a whole entire spell into my tattoo–didn’t even think to tell me, oh no–in yet another language.” 

“It was a protective measure!” Rowan protested. “And it worked, didn’t it?” 

“Oh, all right, it did.” She laced her fingers with his. “Your father is boring; all his tattoos are just Old Language.” 

“Can you read them?” Bran asked. 

“I can.” A yearning smile curved Rowan’s lips. “It’s been a very long time since I spoke the Old Language, but I can read it, yes.” 

“What’s this one?” Lana pointed to a sequence of characters on Rowan’s bicep. “It repeats a lot. There, and on your forearm, and on your neck, too.” The firstborn Whitethorn Galathynius always had been perceptive. 

“It says Fireheart,” Rowan murmured. 

A crooked little smile lit Lana’s face. “That’s…extremely sappy of you, Father. Aren’t you supposed to be the hardened old warrior?” 

Aelin burst into laughter. “Oh, my daughter,” she wheezed. “Never change, Lana love.” 

“I’m trying very hard to be unimpressed,” Rowan intoned, his lips twitching with the effort of holding back his merriment. 

Lana giggled. “We’re all thinking it.” 

Rowan laughed. “I suppose we all are.” 

Bran’s smaller hands touched the ink spiraling up his father’s arm. “When I grow up, I want tattoos too!” he declared. 

Aelin and Rowan shared a very long look. 

“Maybe you will have tattoos,” Aelin told her son, running her thumb over his knuckles. “If you do, know that you carry the weight of every name and event written into your skin.”

“Even the ones that hurt?” 

“Especially those ones.” Aelin gathered her children close. “It is the weight of the people we have loved and lost that guide us through life. They are always with us, even when they fade.”

#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #rowaelinmonth #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin and kiddos #rowaelin family fic #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #canonverse #surprise surprise it's canonverse lol

[olsenmyolsen]

Vigilante

master list

dark master list

Post Hawkeye Series - (Female Reader X Kate Bishop)

Summary: You get saved by Clint Barton... or so you thought.

Word Count: 3.3K

TW: Guns, Men

You don't know why you moved to New York.

Okay, that's a lie. Yes, you do. You got a nice fancy job in the old Stark tower that paid you slightly more than you were qualified for.

Plus, you were determined to make it on your own. To prove to everyone back home, including your mother, that you could make it. Be someone. Look adversity in the eye and say fuck you!

But fucking adversity left you drained. Tired every day after working way longer than should be legally allowed. No time to socialize or find people with your interest. Not that you had much besides keeping up with the Avengers and binge-watching your three favorite sitcoms. You thought about getting a cat. One named Liho you saw on an adoption website, but a day later, the cat was snatched up.

Regardless, you wanted more from your life.

So here you were, walking home alone late on a Friday night after your numerous train stops.

Now, the part of the borough you lived in wasn't bad; it just had too many things going on with insufficient outlets. Speaking of that, there was another item on your list: find a new place.

As the late winter air nipped the sidewalk, you started making your way to your place when you turned the corner, finding yourself at the sight of a half dozen men in tracksuits.

You crossed your arms over the front of your cream-colored sweater and put your head down. Maybe if eye contact was lost, they would miss you.

If only.

"Hey, where are you going?" You didn't dare to look up as your Doc Martens hit the ground a little faster and harder. "Hey! Lady! We're talking to you." A second voice called out from behind you before a third one stopped you. Physically. With your head down so well, you didn't see the man until you fell on your butt on the dirty sidewalk.

"Now, now. We're not here to hurt you. We want to get to know you." He spoke, sending chills down your body. You began fumbling with your bag while doing your best to keep an eye on the ugly man with the funny voice. "Hey!" A fourth guy reached down and snatched your brown leather bag. "You won't be needing this!" The man laughed as he held up your pink can of pepper spray.

You were probably about to do something dumb when it happened.

THUNK

You watched as an arrow came and shot the can of pepper spray the guy was holding up. It sent the contents of the can directly into his eyes. Blinding him and leaving him a burning mess as the guys around you ducked in shock. You kept her head low, too. Not wanting to get sprayed or accidentally hit with an arrow.

But wait. Why would you get hit? That's when you smiled. An Avenger!

You crawled away from the crying man and lifted your head to look in the direction the arrow was fired but saw nothing on the rooftops.

The man behind you still screamed in pain as another one decided he was done and started to take off. But that's when you saw another arrow being fired from the laundry mat rooftop. You couldn't make out the shape of the person, but a bow and arrow gave away the identity. Clint Barton.

You watched as the arrow flew in front of the guy before it broke apart and formed a giant net. Wrapping the guy up and taking him down into a store window, knocking him out.

2 down. 4 to go. You thought.

But the tracksuit guys must've thought the same thing as one of them ran up to you and grabbed you. Pinning your right arm behind you. You tried your best to fight him off, but your slaps and swings didn't do anything, especially when he started to bend your arm.

You silently cursed yourself. You really should've taken those self-defense classes Collen Wing told you about.

"Show yourself, and we won't hurt her!" The man spoke in a heavy, accented voice. You winced as he tightened the tight grip he had on you. "Ow!" The man told you to shut up as the three other guys started forming a circle around you.

Safety in numbers and whatnot.

"Come out!" One of them yelled, making you smile. You knew an Avenger wouldn't give themselves away. Right now, they have the upper hand. The element of surprise they lose that and they-

"Alright! Here I am!"

Huh? You widened your eyes as a female voice loudly spoke from that same rooftop. Shit. You thought. This wasn't Clint Barton. This wasn't an Avenger. It was some girl playing vigilante...

But then the voice stepped into the glow of the moon.

You took back what you said.

This wasn't some dumb girl playing vigilante while risking both of your lives. This was some beautiful dumb girl playing vigilante, risking your lives.

Her pretty black hair and sharp jawline had you hooked.

Just wait till later when you got close enough to look into her eyes and take in her figure.

"Don't hurt her!" The voice called out as they took more steps on the rooftop before she was at the edge. What was she doing?

"Shoot that one!" The guy with his hold on you yelled to the other three guys. But as the three readied their guns, it was already too late because when you looked back to the rooftop, she was gone. "Fuck!" The guy to your left yelled. "Where did she go?!"

They were now growing more panicked, and you were loving it from being scared to amused in a couple of minutes. Don't get it twisted. You were still greatly concerned for your safety and well-being, but watching the guys who appeared to be tough now start freaking out over a girl with a string and two sticks was a little funny.

"Wait, I think I see-" Before the guy to your right could finish, an arrow was fired from an unknown direction, hitting him in the right arm. Like the guy before him, he was out like a light. When you squinted your eyes at the arrow, you could see it had a label on it. A label!

'Zzzzz,' you internally laughed and slowly couldn't wait to see who was saving your life.

3 down. 3 to go.

"Shit!" The guy behind you yelled. "Bro, where did that come from?! Where did it come from!"

"Over here!" She gleefully cheered!

The guy with his hold on you swung you around to the right as he tried to find her. "Fire!" He commanded the last two guys. "But-" "Do it!" You attempted to shout no, but it was too late. The two guys took some steps forward and started firing their guns. Silenced, of course. But as their bullets were fired in the direction they thought the girl was, from the corner of your eye, you saw her run across the street to your side of the road.

You tried your best to get a better look at her but failed. The last thing you saw was purple and a ponytail bouncing back and forth.

"Stop!" The one behind you, who you were now calling Dudley (Even though this was certainly not his name.), yelled. "Go check it out, bro." "You go." "I'm holding the hostage, bro!" You rolled your eyes and sighed. One of the three gave you a look but scoffed. "Fine! I'll check it out."

He began to walk forward and cross the street. "Anything?" Dudley asked. The one near the shot-out car was about to respond when he bent down. "Hey! Bro, it looks like she left an arrow-" As he grabbed it, it shocked him, sending him to the ground convulsing.

4 down. 2 to go.

"Fuck this!" The other grunt said as he took off running. Unknowingly to right where she was. So, as he was too busy yelling back at Dudley, the girl dressed in a purple superhero suit with her bow and arrow stepped out from behind a parked car and tripped him with it. He crashed into the sidewalk, and as if she had done it a thousand times before, she twirled her body around and pulled out an arrow, sending it right towards you.

Wait towards you?

Towards you?!

You tried your best to move out of the way! But the last tracksuit guy kept his hold on you; besides, it was too late. The arrow made contact!

Your eyes closed when it happened, but a second later, they were open. You weren't shot! Right? "Oh shit!" The girl from down the block yelled before she took off running towards you. "Don't move! Don't move!"

You were held hostage and witnessed a single woman take out six guys like an Avenger. You most certainly were not leaving.

When she finally made it in front of you. Your breath hitched. She was even more gorgeous up close. Now you could make put the details of her face. Her jaw still sharp, but her lips looked soft like pillows. She had a scratch on her chin and a bandaid on her left eyebrow. Her eyes were a mix of grey and blue. They briefly darted at you before she passed right by you. Wait...

You turned your body as she stopped two feet behind you. "Oh no, no, no!" She put a hand to her head and looked down to the ground. You looked down as well and couldn't believe your eyes.

"I didn't mean to pick that arrow, I promise! I don't even know why I carry it! I mean, what's the point of labeling these arrows if I'm not looking at which one I pick!" She rambled as you couldn't fathom what you were looking at. Sure, you heard the stories of Scott Lang. You went to see Rogers: The Musical. But in front of you on the sidewalk, you were looking at a couple-inch-tall Dudley, and you couldn't believe it.

You pushed your finger into him, knocking Dudley over.

"Hey, don't do that." The girl scolded you, making you look up at her. "He just held me hostage. Are you serious?" She dropped her mouth and closed it again. "I mean, you're not wrong, but now he's.. well.. that.." She looked back down to the ground. "What should we do?" She asked aloud. "We?!" You lifted your eyebrows to her, making her snap her head back to you. "Yeah. I was saving your life!"

"Well, I didn't ask you to use the shrinking arrow!"

"I didn't mean to!" She whined and looked back down at Dudley. "Wait, where is he?!" You looked back down and squatted, but you didn't see him either. "Quick check your shoes." She frantically looked at you. "I didn't step on him!"

"Check them!" She responded, checking hers. You rolled your eyes and checked.

"He's not here." You replied as you looked down the street. "Ummm.." The ponytail-wearing girl looked where you looked. Running under street lights was a rat that looked like it might be a little too big for its size. "You don't think-"

"No!" She quickly replied and turned her head. "I saved you. End of story." She waited for you to agree. "Okay. You saved me." You said as Kate pulled out her phone. "I'm reporting this. The police should be here soon." You didn't really hear here as your eyes traveled back to the rat. Further away. It's not smiling.. is it?

"Are you hurt?" You looked back at her. "Huh?" She smiled and took a step closer. "I asked if you were hurt. It looks like they didn't rough you up, but it's always nice to check." She smiled at you again, this time showing off her pearly whites. Fuck she's cute. Like really cute. Oh wait, it's now your turn to talk... "Fine, think, I am." You closed your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, missing the lifesaver scrunching her nose as she laughed. "Sorry. I meant to say I think I am fine." You opened your eyes just in time to see her nod as her eyes looked you over.

Was she checking you out?

"Good." She replied with a nod, and she was about to say something else when: "You have pretty eyes." Excuse me?! Why did you say that?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?

The archer seemed to be surprised by your statement and blushed. Hard! "Well, thank you. I must say, usually, people thank me or offer to buy me pizza, but this is nice, too." She laughed, breaking the nervous air you made happen. "I'm so sorry!" You groaned "Yes. Thank you for saving me, and I'm sorry for saying what I said. Not that it's not true. You do have pretty eyes. And your smile is great! Plus, I'm in love with your hair- But I didn't mean to say it aloud. It was just for me. But that doesn't mean-"

"Kate Bishop." She stopped you with two words while smiling. Holding out her hand. "What?" You questioned.

"Hi. I'm Kate Bishop. 23. I just saved your life, and this is our first time talking." She made a gesture to her extended hand. You sighed, relieved, and shook her slightly rough but still soft hand. "Thank you for saving my life, Kate Bishop. I'm Y/N Y/L/N. 25." Kate smiled as she felt your hand in hers. Soft. She thought.

"It was an honor to save such a beautiful lady with even prettier eyes," Kate said, making you blush, and a butterfly get pregnant in your stomach. "Do you flirt with all the people you save?" You questioned, still shaking her hand. Kate responded with a shake of the head. "First time."

"Then I am honored." You couldn't stop the smile that crawled onto your face as she dropped your hand. And neither could Kate watching you. "So, are you sure you're all good? No scratches or anything?" Kate asked, looking only into your eyes. "I'm all good. Now." You said.

"Do you live around here?" She asked. "Bold of you." Kate rolled her eyes. "I'm asking because I want to ensure you get home safely."

"Sureee." You said but lifted your hand and pointed to your building. "Right there." Kate looked at it and didn't like it, but not everyone could live in their mom's penthouse apartment after their own apartment was set on fire. "I'll walk you." Kate put a hand on your backside and started moving the two of you along. Passing the knocked-out guy on the sidewalk.

"Police should be here soon." She said when she saw you look at the guy.

"Okay." You replied as her hand rested now fully against you. This was nice, and your body couldn't help but remind you. Having someone care for you and touch you...

"Kate?" You asked as you were now getting closer to your place. "Do you do this often? The Vigilante thing?" Kate nodded immediately. "Practically all the time." She beamed. "I'm still new, but I was trained by Clint! You know Hawkeye!?" She enthusiastically proclaimed.

"Clint Barton trained you?!" You couldn't believe it. "Yep! Check it out!" She dropped your hand and pulled out her phone. On her Lock Screen was a picture of her and Clint with a golden retriever. "Oh my God! Holy shit! That's amazing!" A part of you wanted to say this was fake and that there's no way, but she did take out six guys and make it seem like fun, so you'd believe her regardless. Plus, she flirted with you. And checked you out!

"So, do you have a cool nickname? Wait, are you an Avenger?!" You stopped in front of your building and turned to Kate with all seriousness. "Are you?!" Kate did one of those yes/no faces. "Kind of. It's a grey area considering the Avengers aren't like a proper thing anymore, but yeah, I guess I am." She nodded and smiled. You smiled back. "That's so cool." You said.

Kate looked from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. You both noticed. "You know..." She cleared her throat. "I could send you some pics of Clint and me if you want?" She asked, knowing what the answer would be.

"Oh yeah?" You caught on. "Yeah.. and maybe then I'd have your number." Kate bit her bottom lip before you agreed. "Having the number of the person who saved my life would be important. You know, in case anything like this were to happen again." You spoke as Kate put her number into your phone before sending herself a text. "Well, I hope nothing like this happens again," Kate said, handing you your phone before she continued. "I mean, I would save you, of course, but I wouldn't want you to get hurt."

That warmed your heart in more ways than one.

So, with pink cheeks, you turned to look at your building. You were about to walk up the steps when you stopped yourself. "You know.." Kate looked at you with peaked interest. "The police haven't come by yet, and we both know how dangerous this area can be.." Kate lightly nodded. "Plus, I'm enjoying getting to know the archer who saved me. So maybe we should keep walking.. together."

Kate smiled at you and took your hand in hers. "I know a safer place we can walk to."

"Lead the way."

Kate smiled and started pulling you further away from your place just as cop cars went speeding by the two of you.

"Thank you." You spoke as the flashing blue and red lights became a dot. "For saving me and all that." You flustered. "It's no problem. I would've done it anyways, but it helps that you're pretty and..." Kate trails off in thought before her eyes widen. "Maybe tonight you'll get lucky."

That made you laugh in a mixture of shock and nervousness.

"What!?" You exclaimed as your cheeks went from pink to red. "What?" Kate looked at you as if she said nothing wrong. "What did you say?" You asked.

"I said maybe tonight you'll get to meet Lucky."

She most certainly did not.

Right?

"Lucky?!" You asked. Kate released your hand and pulled out her phone again, showing you the Lock Screen. She pointed with her thumb at the golden retriever. "Lucky." You nodded and retook her hand once the phone was put away.

"So we're going to your place?"

That made Kate blush and realize she would have to say something sooner rather than later.

"Well... yeah. It's way safer, and I figured we wouldn't want to stop talking anytime soon, so why not.." Kate sheepishly looked at you, but all she saw were joy-filled eyes. "I'd like that if I can make one request."

"Okay?" That made Kate nervous. "I want a kiss. Like in the movies. Cliche."

Kate squeezed your hand and stopped. Now that made you nervous. "I mean, unless I'm totally reading the signs wrong." You sputtered. "In which case. I'm joking. This was an attempt to wanting more from life, and it was a joke at the same time somehow, so please igno-"

Kate kissed you to shut you up and because the signs were right.

From the moment Kate ran up to you after shrinking that guy, she had never seen a girl more beautiful. And let's remember she fought the Black Widow's sister. Her not-so-subtle flirting, along with your flustering, had made Kate's stomach do flips.

So kissing you was the easiest decision she made all night. Well, that and saving your life.

When Kate's pink lips left yours, you knew you were never leaving New York.

dividers by @/benkeibear

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