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owliellder · 8 months

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Final Word Count: 22.6k

Author's Note: Ta-da! I put a lot of work into this last chapter, like actually becoming the president for a couple hours, but I really wanted to make it worth everyone's time for sticking around and reading all the way through.

Thank you so much for following along! All the sweet comments from you guys never fails to make my day!

^//v//^

Cross posted on AO3

The Reveal

Almost three months.

It took almost three months for Leon's portrait to fully dry after it had been varnished. You'd checked it almost daily after the two month mark due to Leon's constant pestering. He was understandably antsy, and admittedly, you were too.

There was a lot of convincing involved, but you managed to keep the man at home while you transported the painting to the White House. He worried it would be damaged en-route. Such a little worry wart.

Setting up the painting's respective spot a column away from Chris and Claire's seemed very appropriate; tall, fake bushes sitting on either side of where it would be placed, a warm yellow bulb lighting up the inside of the decorative archway, and the patterned golden frame where the canvas would forever be now hung empty in that portrait hallway, waiting to be pieced together and completed.

The shiny gold placard had already been screwed onto the frame, words zapped on it via laser:

Leon S. Kennedy

USSTRATCOM Agent from 1998 - 2011

D.S.O. Agent from 2011 - 2017

You knew how long he'd been working as an agent, but it was still baffling nonetheless. Nearly 20 years of non-stop intense and usually very traumatizing work, what a feat.

Moving on, you'd worked out the plans for Leon's farewell party with the President and a few coordinators over the span of a few days, making sure to store the painting in a secure room for the time being. It was to stay covered with a violet piece of velvet cloth up until the reveal at the party, no one was allowed to see it besides you, the President, and the various security guards working the grounds.

After another two extra months of waiting, the farewell party was drawing near. There had to be enough time given for invitations to be sent out to people, wait for said people to RSVP, and allow travel time. And at this point, Leon was busting at the seams; extremely nervous, excited, and even a little scared at the prospect of it all.

Your words from that second painting session all those months ago never left his mind: "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

The man clung to that, doing his best to internalize it and mentally prepare himself for what was to come. He was hoping you were exaggerating, but from what Chris, Claire, and even Jill have told him about their experience after the fact, he knew deep down that you'd seen it all too well before.

What Leon failed to realize was that he wasn't alone anymore. Sure he had his friends to help, but he'd never had someone to come home to everyday.

During the last few sessions, he had asked to stay with you at your apartment, citing the potential aftermath of the party as reasoning. However, you really didn't need him to explain his reasoning, you would've let him. Even if he just felt like it, you would've welcomed him with opened arms.

Besides, he'd already been staying at your place for longer periods of time over the months. You'd visited his house a few times, but he made sure to whine and complain about how bare and boring it was. If you remember correctly, Leon had said, word for word, that your apartment "felt like a warm hug". With that, he shelled up with you in only a couple weeks before the painting had dried. He made special effort to learn your routine, wanting to give you the space that you needed while also maximizing his time spent with you.

Leon was an actual angel, you were wholeheartedly convinced. Some days you would come home after working on another painting to the man cooking dinner, having bought an expensive wine to share with you. When your hands would start to ache and your back and shoulders were sore from the long hours spent holding a paintbrush in an awkward hunched position, he would set aside anything he had going on just to give you all the massages, kisses, and love that you could ever want.

Nothing was ignored when it came to you and your wants and needs. Leon admitted awhile back that he felt guilty for intruding on your space, though you were very quick to shut that down. He was far from a burden, actually lining up more with a dream come true.

And just like he did with you, you spared nothing while getting to know the in's and out's of the man that occupied your mind, heart, and home. You learned his favorite meals, watched his favorite shows and movies with him, returning the massages when he would return from the gym, and paid extra attention to how he liked to be held at night. Who would've guessed that the Leon Kennedy loved to be the little spoon?

What you spent the most time on was making sure to listen when he suddenly went on tangents about his past. They really did haunt him. You would wake up in the middle of the night to him huddled at the top of the bed, arms wrapped around his legs and head between his knees as he did his best to cry quietly. All you could do for him in those moments was pull him against your chest, gently rocking him back and forth while whispering sweet nothings, just until he felt either ready to talk or ready to fall back asleep. If he just wanted more comfort, then that's what he got, obviously.

He was only recently put on a couple medications to help him better manage his PTSD and anxiety since he really had to cut back on the alcohol in order to take them the way he needed. Definitely worth it to both you and him seeing as his nightmares lessened in intensity and frequency.

Now here you were, straightening out Leon's tie for him since his hands were failing him, nerves getting the better of him. He had taken his meds a few minutes ago, wanting to have the full effect during the party to combat any destructive behaviors during it, so it was no wonder his hands were still trembling.

"You're going to do so well, Leon." You smiled, giving him a gentle pat between his pecs after tucking his tie into his suit jacket. He was staring straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he stared at himself in the mirror. "You've made so much progress and I couldn't be any prouder."

He licked his dry lips before slowly looking down at you, giving you the best smile he could, which was really just him pulling his lips back tight. If it weren't for you constantly being around to encourage him and push him to get better, he would not be able to attend his own farewell party.

How had he managed to get so far without this level of love and care? Where would he even be without you? Hopefully later when his mind isn't racing a million miles per minute, Leon will be able to tell you just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

Leon watched you in the mirror as you walked around to stand behind him, straightening out his suit jacket in random spots until deciding to just wrap your arms around his midriff, pressing the side of your face against his back with a content sigh. He brought his still-trembling hands up to hold onto your arms, rubbing his thumbs up and down across your soft skin.

His eyes settled back on his own face after staring at your arms linked around him, letting out a shaky sigh of his own as he attempted to just focus on this moment. You were perfect, ethereal, a true work of art. He wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

It took some time, about an hour, before Leon's medication was starting to kick in. You were definitely a big help, he couldn't give all the credit to his meds.

His relaxed demeanor wasn't easy to spot, the man was just naturally rigid, but you waited until he let you know that he was ready; ready to go to his farewell party, ready to see the portrait you painted for him, ready to put in the effort into accepting the next chapter in his life.

The drive to the White House was seamless, having been picked up in a blacked out SUV that held four personal guards, courtesy of the President. Leon wasn't going to complain, he actually kind of liked the pampering effect that came with being driven around by a dedicated entourage.

Almost all good feelings were drained from Leon when the car finally pulled up to the front of the White House where more guards stood waiting to escort the two of you inside. It was still early in the night, but the sun had set long ago, making for quite the beautiful atmosphere.

He could see numerous party attendees walking up the stairs, dressed up in their fanciest outfits for him. He held your hand the entire way up the stairs and into the entrance hall with a grip that was sure to leave your hand hurting. No matter, you could tell he needed you. That vice grip he had was well worth it for his comfort.

There were quite a few more people than either you or Leon expected. It seems as if all available agents, young, old, and retired, had been sent an invitation for tonight, along with quite a few high-ranking government workers. Luckily, this was a private event; no reporters, no news, only those who had been fortunate enough to be invited.

The first to spot you two was Chris who quickly made his way over to pull Leon into a bone-crushing hug, giving him a few solid pats on the back before letting go. Leon only reciprocated the hug with one hand, the other refusing to let go of yours, though his grip had loosened by now.

"Where's Claire?" Leon muttered, leaning to the side to scan over the sizeable crowd. "She's.." Chris turned around to also scan the crowd, squinting a bit as he looked. "She's somewhere. My wife is with her, her family, and Jill."

Leon pursed his lips with a curt nod, humming quietly in acknowledgement before standing straight again. He glanced down at where his hand held yours, squeezing it again for just a second as if to remind himself that you haven't gone anywhere.

Chris had turned back around to see the small gesture Leon gave to you, a coy smirk on his face. "What uhh... what's all this, huh?" He subtly pointed between you and the other man, voice lowered.

Leon cleared his throat and looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear despite the volume in the hall. "... M'gonna save that for the-.. the speech." Chris just nodded, crossing his arms before slowly turning to look through the crowd again. "Alright, well, let me go find the family and bring them over before you're swarmed." And with that, Chris made his way back into the crowd.

Unfortunately, Leon had been spotted by the rest of the partygoers before Chris could return with everyone. Many pleasantries were repeated while also returning small talk with the people he recognized, which was a lot. You managed to avoid most of it, only being questioned a few times due to the rather obvious hold the man had on you. Despite having attended the last few parties like this, most people unable to recognize you as the artist. A blessing and a curse.

The next couple hours were spent eating finger foods, conversing with whoever, and enjoying the way Leon started to flow with the event. He soon found his way to Chris, Claire, their partners and kids, and Jill which really helped him loosen up. He needed the more familiar faces, having now let go of your hand fully to talk more animatedly with them. You made sure to stick by his side as long as you could, letting out a soft laugh every time you noticed his quick glances over to you to check if you're still there.

The time eventually did come for you to part with Leon, signaling a couple guards to follow you down a few hallways until reaching the room where the portrait sat, still covered with the violet cloth. The decision to keep it back here for so long was made by the President, wanting less of a sudden reveal and more of a build up.

Normally it would already be hanging in the entrance hall, covered and ready to be revealed, but not wanting to risk any potential damage, you were asked to hold off bringing it in until the President was ready to give the speech leading up to Leon's.

It'd been set in the golden frame rather quickly with the help from one of the guards that walked down with you. You had the guard to hold it up for you so you could give it one final good look before he was instructed to lead you back. After recovering, you took the portrait in both hands, holding it close as you were escorted back through the halls and into the main entrance hall.

By now everyone had directed their focus closer to the center of the back wall. Next to where the President stood, your own art easel was now set up. That was mostly as homage to you and it wasn't like anyone besides you would understand that it's yours, though Leon did pick up on that little feature. He'd been staring at the back of that thing for months, counted the various old streaks of paint on the pale wood over and over.

It made his farewell all the more personal, struggling to mask the feeling of the ever-growing pit in his stomach from the friends he was still standing next to.

The sound of a mic being tapped drew everyone's attention in to the President, the volume in the hall quieting to a whisper, soon completely silent as he began to speak into the mic;

"Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you to honor and pay tribute to a true hero, a dedicated public servant, and a loyal friend who has served our nation with unwavering dedication for the past 19 years. It is with great respect and admiration that I address you on this occasion, as we bid farewell to a remarkable agent who has exemplified the very best qualities of service and sacrifice." As the President spoke, Leon held his breath, hands gripping onto his suit jacket to keep from trembling again.

At this point, you'd silently walked along the side with the guards from before, bringing the covered portrait up to the front before carefully placing it on your easel. "Throughout this nation's history, these agents have played an essential role in ensuring the safety and security of our nation's people and have consistently placed their lives on the line to protect the sanctity of our democracy. And today, we acknowledge one agent who has done so with unparalleled devotion."

"This retiring agent has been a silent sentinel, ensuring the continuity of our democratic ideals. Through countless hours of training, vigilance, and selflessness, they have demonstrated a level of commitment that is nothing short of extraordinary. But beyond their exceptional professional duties, this agent has been a friend and a confidant to those of us privileged to work alongside them. They have been a source of strength, a steady hand in turbulent times, and a symbol of the unbreakable bond that can form within the ranks of those who dedicate their lives to service."

You positioned yourself opposite of the President, placing your hands behind your back to keep your posture tall as you now smiled at the crowd, subtly scanning for Leon. His eyes were already on you when you found him, and your smile only widened further.

It prompted his own nervous smile, toying with the buttons on his jacket while turning his attention back to the President, wanting to remain respectful to his, honestly, very flattering speech so far. You followed Leon's eyes, seemingly having the same idea to just watch and listen.

"The sacrifices made by our agents often go unnoticed by the public, and that is by design. Their commitment to duty is matched only by their humility. But today, we pause to recognize and celebrate this retiring agent's dedication, valor, and sacrifice." The President continued to address the attendees in the room, giving you a quick nod before returning his focus to everyone in the entrance hall.

The President outstretched his hand towards Leon standing in the crowd, now staring at him with a prideful yet relaxed look. "To Mr. Leon S. Kennedy, our retiring agent and loyal friend, thank you for your 19 years of dedicated service to our nation. May your retirement be filled with the peace and contentment that you so richly deserve. You leave behind a legacy of honor and courage that will never be forgotten." The crowd of attendees clapped and cheered briefly, causing Leon to reach his hand up to wipe across his face. A poor way to hide his red face. He's done that before, hasn't he?

Once the crowd quieted back down, the President finished his speech with a classic, "May God bless you, your family, and may God continue to bless the United States of America. Thank you" before the crowd picked back up cheering and clapping. You clapped along with them, laughing at Leon's flustered expression. He could barely hold back his smile, not really have expecting to be so well recognized for his service.

Leon's queue to make his way to the front was when the President walked over to stand next to you, making sure not to block the covered portrait from anyone's view. He'd recited this speech to you countless times, even more to himself when he was alone, but all those eyes staring at him were causing him to fumble. He messed around with the mic once he was standing in front of it, and that was your queue to walk over and stand next to him, placing a loving hand on his forearm.

That's all he needed, just a little extra encouragement from the person he relied on the most. His speech was short and straight to the point, never having been a man of professional word, yet he still managed to slip in some words of praise for you and all the help you provided him during his rough patch earlier in the year.

Neither you or Leon had outright said it to each other, let alone to anyone else, but hearing him announce to the entire hall of people that you were his girlfriend made your heart soar. Speaking about you calmed his nerves, and he wanted everyone to know just how lucky he felt, like he'd hoped for earlier.

He bent over slightly to whisper in your ear, covering the mic with his hand to make sure it didn't pick up his voice. "Now, why don't you go ahead and show us all that masterpiece you spent months working on?" Oh, now you were the flustered one, giggling nervously as you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before walking over to where the painting sat on the easel.

"Ladies and gentleman," Leon's eyes followed you as he straightened his posture out, speaking into the mic once more with a wide smile gracing his features, "I'm honored to have the wonderful artist herself present my very own portrait to you." As he spoke, you carefully lifted the cloth from where it was draped over the painting, finally revealing the ever-awaited portrait to everyone.

Just like with Chris and Claire's, Leon was sat in that soft maroon chair, slightly off center, but his position was different with his right ankle rested atop his left knee, elbows on the arms of the chair while his hands rested in his lap, fingers interlaced. His smile was soft and partially crooked while he looked forward with relaxed eyes, a few strands of hair painted to sit in front of his brow. And to tie it all together, it had a lovely green background, a dark forest green as the base while a sage green was used to add texture. The vintage look had always been your favorite, and Leon fit it so perfectly. He was nearly timeless.

Many "ooo's" and "ahh's" were heard amongst the clapping from the crowd, along with a handshake from the President. Before you could turn to face Leon, you felt his arms slowly slink around you from underneath your arms, the weight of his head now pressing down on your shoulder. You could feel his grin when he tilted his head to kiss your jawline, beginning to gently rock you side to side. Getting to show off your work was always so rewarding, but just knowing Leon was handling everything so well was a feeling you'll truly never forget.

He was happy. That's all you ever wanted for him. The man has truly earned his portrait in that agent hall of fame.

The portrait was soon brought down to the aforementioned hall to be hung up and displayed for good, a few small groups trailing down to get a better look at it. Chris was the noisiest about it, telling Leon it looked like it belonged above a grand fireplace, to which said man agreed with.

Chris, Claire, Jill, and their respective families stared at it for quite some time alongside Leon and you. They all chatted while Leon stared quietly, taking in every little fine detail you'd added. You changed his position some, and did he really smile at you like that? He really did look lovestruck. Of course only he could tell that. Hopefully.

He surprised himself with how okay he felt after seeing the painting. You warned him multiple times that it would most likely be overwhelming and emotional, and while it was, it wasn't in a bad way. The most compelling thought he had right now was to just sweep you off your feet and smother you with love.

Leon asked one of the guards to take a picture of him with everyone, including you, in front of his portrait. Then, just a picture of you and him standing in front of it, easily becoming the background on his phone.

The party went on for only an hour or so more before people started to trickle out. You and Leon were some of the first to leave, saying all your thanks and goodbye's with hugs and handshakes.

The moment the two of you walked into your apartment he practically pounced on you before the door had shut, large hands gripping tight on your hips as he sloppily made out with you. He just had to show his gratitude for all your hard work.

Your lips tasted so sweet and your soft little moans were driving him wild, he couldn't help the groan that rumbled from his chest. Full blown sex had been held off by you, not wanting to rush him into anything while you helped him manage his problems. Honestly, he was glad you'd held off on him, because now that he was feeling like his own person again, it made waiting all the more fulfilling.

Leon hoisted you up into his arms after you'd kicked your heels off, holding onto the back of your thighs as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling against his lips as he carefully navigated around the short hallway and into the bedroom.

You looked so good splayed out on the bed for him, that beautiful dress you chose was insanely flattering on you. It had to go though, so after yanking off his jacket he made quick work of your dress, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before pulling it up and over your head. Your bra and panties didn't last either. He'd only gotten to see you naked a couple times before, but god, he'll never get tired of seeing you this way, acting all shy like you weren't his favorite view.

Leon was so eager to get his hands on you that he neglected to take off his suit, opting instead to hover over you and bury his face into your neck. He wasn't a good artist, but he loved to cover your neck in shades of red and purple like you were his own little painting, akin to leaving his signature all over you.

He only pulled away once you tugged on his hair, listening to your begs and pleas for him to get his clothes off. As much as he wanted to prolong this night and tease you, he couldn't hold himself back. He needed to feel your soft skin against his.

"So perfect." Leon mumbled against your skin, licking and kissing his way up your stomach and to your breasts after practically ripping off his clothes. His hands found their way back to your hips, pressing them firm against the bed to keep you from squirming away as he nipped at one of your nipples, pulling it into his mouth.

He moaned as he sucked and circled his tongue around your nipple, his eyes falling closed. The other couldn't stay neglected, so he brought one hand up to pinch and tug at your other nipple, sighing when he felt your body press against his as you arched at the sensation. He loved when your moans would pitch, so cute.

His cock was pressed against the inside of your thigh, rutting against it when you would tug at his hair. Once he decided your nipples had enough attention, he sat up and grabbed the backs of your knees to place around his waist. The new position offered Leon the perfect opportunity to drag his leaking cock through your folds, pressing it down with his thumb so the tip would nudge your clit with every slow thrust forward.

You were so wet, so delicate. He could've fucked you right then, slid right into that juicy little pussy, but he needed to take care of you first. He would never forgive himself if he hurt you.

Reluctantly, the man pulled his dick away from you, letting out a poorly concealed whine at the loss. He ran his hands up your thighs before moving one hand so he could circle your clit with his thumb, the other hand back on your hip to keep you steady.

"L-eon~!" You brokenly moaned out, pleading to him with your watery eyes. You needed more; his fingers, his cock, anything. He couldn't say no to that, stopping his assault on your clit to drag his middle and ring finger through your drenched folds to wet them properly. He brought your right leg to sit over his shoulder, hand gripping the top of your thigh as he leaned forward, studying your face closely as he gently teased the outside of your slit with his middle finger.

He moaned with you as he slid his finger in, keeping his eyes trained on you as he started to tentatively thrust his finger in and out. "Yeah?" Leon whispered, licking his lips as you barely managed to nod. "Yeeeaah, there's my girl..." The rumble in his voice was music to your ears.

His ring finger was soon slid in next to his middle finger, switching between scissoring you and making a partial 'come here' motion with them. After only a couple minutes you were leaking all over his hand and the bed, the wet sounds of your pussy mixed with your moans making his cock jerk and drip with precum. Leon clenched his teeth as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, immediately bringing them to his mouth to suck off your juices. He let out an audible sigh after swallowing, repositioning his dick to slide through your folds a couple more times before nudging your hole with the tip.

"Look at me, baby..." Leon's hushed demand brought you to open your eyes, if only half way. He made eye contact with you before leaning forward further to kiss you, all the while finally pushing into you. He soaked in your gasp, his eyebrows furrowing as you tensed up. "Relax.. let me in~..."

"It's only me.." He panted, tilting his head to kiss the corner of your mouth as your eyes shut again. "It's only me, baby..." he repeated this a few more times as he eased his cock inside of you, the stretch only stinging for a moment before it turned to pleasure. He filled you perfectly, you could feel every bit of him, especially with his right hand adding a bit of pressure to your stomach.

Leon sat still for a minute to give you time to adjust, taking the way you moved your hips as a sign to move. He pulled out, all the way to the tip, before slowly thrusting back in. He managed to choke out a quiet "Fuck-.." when you clenched around him. "Taking me so well.. such a big girl~.."

He always knew just how to talk to you, making sure to take his time buttering you up. You were putty in his hands, and between his words and the feeling of him reaching so deep inside of you, you could barely think.

It didn't take long for him to start to lose his composure, the sound of wet skin slapping together filling the room as his thrusts intensified. "All mine. All for me." The grip he had on your thigh was sure to leave a bruise, but that was the last thing on your mind.

The hand he had pressing on your stomach moved further down so he could circle your clit with his thumb again, jaw tight as he looked from your blissed out expression to where his hand was playing with you. "Oh fuck! That's it!" Leon growled, eyes glued to your cunt as he plunged in and out of it. "Cream this dick, mamas~... Cum on my cock so I can fill this pretty pussy up.."

The way you gasped and moaned when you came was enough to warrant a noise complaint, but screw your neighbors. You needed this just as much Leon did.

"Oohhh fuck yeah.. Milk me, baby~... shit-" Leon's thrusts stuttered to a stop while pressed flush against you, abs flexing as he pumped ropes of cum into you. Once you managed to open your eyes, all you could do was stare at the man, flushed pink and sweaty, sitting between your legs. Both of you moaned in tandem as he pulled out, Leon groaning to himself as he watched his cum drip from your pussy. Truly a work of art meant for his eyes only.

He leaned over you again to plant a quick kiss on your lips, chuckling when he felt you smile. "Let me go grab something to clean you up, okay?" You could only nod in response, reaching your hand up to caress the side of his face before he stood up from the bed. He walked across the hall into the bathroom, wetting a soft rag with warm water before making his way back over to you.

Leon made sure to be gentle when cleaning you, the warmth from the rag soothing your tender skin. You were able to sit up on your elbows and watch him, using his gentle touches as a way to calm your still racing heart.

After wiping himself off with the rag, he tossed it over in the general direction of your laundry basket. It was a problem for later. Right now, he wanted lay back on the bed and pull you up so you could lay on top of him. Along with just how nice it felt to hold you, he loved the weight of you on him. So that's what he did, pulling you onto him after laying on the bed, running his fingers though your hair on the back of your head.

"Leon." You muttered against his collarbone. His eyebrows raised, yet his eyes were closed. "Mm?" His right eye peaked open when he felt you giggle. "What?"

"I love you." His fingers paused their ministrations at your words. You lifted your head up to look at him, growing worried with his shocked expression. "Sorry, is that too-" you choked on your words, stopped mid-sentence by Leon's arms suddenly squeezing the breath out of you with a very tight hug. He pulled you up just a little further so he could smush his lips against yours.

"I love you too!" He breathed out excitedly. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to tell you!" You tapped his arm and he immediately relaxed his grip, mumbling a small, "Sorry, my bad.." when you took in a deep breath.

"You're adorable, Leon." You shook your head with a smile, brushing the hair from his face to give him a much gentler kiss before settling you head back against his chest with a quiet sigh.

Leon was still a tough man, but you made him soft. Only ever soft for you.

Side note: I totally forgot to add in the pussy eating i am so sorry. i thought i did but it was literally just a thought that never manifested 😭

tags!: @greywardensaywhat @xkittiecatx @httpsuguru @httpsuguru @k-fallingstar @lysa1201 @bobastayhigh @pocketstoriesstore @agent-dessis-posts @klee-iii @missjoenowhere @mi-zer-y @bigtiddiesimp @finsternisle @sweets3rial @sodacolablast (there's a few of you that tumblr wouldn't let me tag for some reason)

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bonny-kookoo · 9 months

Text

Yoongi

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮. | Homesick

He's not sure what's worse- the fact that he now knows what's wrong, or the fact that he now knows he can't do anything to help you.

Tags/Warnings: Spin off, Doctor!Yoongi, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of hospitals, Mentions of a coma, major angst, slight fluff?, a lot of hurt, it's your daily dose of angst you masochists

Length: Drabble

There is no taglist for this fic

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There's not much Yoongi truly regrets. After all, he's a firm believer that even the bad things in life happen for a reason- it's all somewhat connected. It all leads you to the next step in life.

But if that's the case, then why did the world gift him you, just to have you taken away like this?

He knows it's only a matter of time until your body gives up. It's already happening, after all- your breathing has become less regulated, blood pressure steadily declining. He knows it's unrealistic to think that you'll forever stay in this state. You won't.

Even if you wake up now, you won't be the same. You'll probably have to fight the aftereffects and impact on your brain for months if not years. And that's a very optimistic prognosis.

The more realistic one would be to assume that you'll be a case of permanent full on care. If you ever wake up.

He dreads the question soon to be asked. What does he want to do?

Can he let you go?

In times like these, when being at home makes him homesick to the point of nausea, he tends to visit you, no matter how late. It's how he finds himself at your bedside again, steady tune of your bpm monitor reassuring him that for now, you're still here.

No matter how much of you.

Watching you sleep like this makes it hard to really comprehend that there's not much to do here at all. There's nothing he can do to help you recover because, at the end of the day, the diagnosis is still being studied.

He can't help. He can only hope.

Holding your hand has begun to feel odd now. Like a tune not played quite right, it feels off to just cling to your body like this, when your soul might've very well already left you long ago. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do.." he mumbles to himself, mostly.

Or maybe he's just at the end of his hope.

Maybe he's the one losing this battle now.

"I know I have to let you go, but I don't want to." He shakes his head. "I didn't even get to experience anything with you." He sighs to himself. "Fuck.." the doctor wipes his face with his free hand.

He sighs again, and gets up to leave-

But your fingers cling to his own, holding a lot more tightly than usual. Maybe a simple muscle memory response- nothing to be excited about. He's learned to keep those feelings in check by now, after having been disappointed time and time again.

So he gently pulls your fingers away from his hand.

And you.. whine?

Your bpm is rising a little, machine complaining with a chime about the change in tempo, and he looks at you a bit more focused, noticing the way your breathing doesn't seem as calm as it usually is.

"No, you're not-!" He curses, turning the lights of the room back on. "You're not fucking taking her from me yet-!" He argues to no one.

When your fingers wrap around his wrist where his hand is pushing down on the hospital bed to gain better leverage to look at your monitor.

"No way.." he breathes out, leaning closer to you as he watches the tears run down your cheeks. It's not new that you're able to cry- you've randomly done that in the past, but during post comatose wakefulness, that's not unusual.

But he hopes. He wants to hope.

"Do you want me to stay?" He asks. "Is that it? Come on, you know how it works, give me an answer-" he begs in a whispered tone,

But nothing happens.

"God dammit what am I supposed to do?!" He breaks down, falling back into the chair next to your bed, finally breaking as he cries into the sheets.

And your hand is suddenly moving around again, as if searching for something, before it settles in his hair, on his head.

And as he lifts it to look at you, your eyes are open. But not just open- because that's what they've done for weeks now, time and time again, hurting him with every empty gaze.

Because this time, albeit a bit tearful-

They're not just open.

They're looking at him.

You're looking at him.

You're back.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #bts yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagines #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x oc

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moononastring · 2 years

Text

Spirit Meets the Bones XVIII

Find it all here.

Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama Author's Note: I sincerely appreciate every single one of you and you keep me truly wanting to continue! Feedback is always welcome and very encouraging :) I love knowing what you think so thank you for reading!

Lucien stood across from his brother in the open field behind his house, Elain’s garden a beautiful backdrop behind them as he waved his hands towards Eris.

“Care to explain what the hell that was about?” Lucien asked, bewildered.

Eris only snarled and paced past his brother. He needed an outlet, not questions. He needed a moment because he was making a downright fool of himself.

“What is the matter with you?” Lucien demanded brows raised high as Eris paused and glared at him.

“I need to hit something.” he spat and resumed his pacing as Lucien eyed him in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

Eris paused his frantic pacing then squinted at his brother. “You. Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes. I am your older brother, you are obligated to listen to me.”

“The only thing I am obligated to do is mildly tolerate you.” Lucien replied with a snort. “Which I’m barely doing as it is. I am not going to be your punching bag because you won’t deal with whatever it is you’re feeling.”

Eris narrowed his eyes, hands twitching at his sides. Never mind there was dried blood on one. The hand that Iris had wanted — he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Fucking ridiculous.

“Fine.” Eris said and squared his shoulders. “I will allow you to punch me first so then I can hit you after.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “No. Elain said no fighting before you came. I know you’re used to your wife being mad at you but I can’t sleep if Elain’s upset with me.”

Eris immediately tensed. “Don’t talk about my wife.”

Lucien blinked then slowly grinned. “Oh.” he said. “I see.”

“See what?” Eris snapped.

Lucien’s grin widened and he rubbed his hands together. “Gods, I’ve been waiting for this moment.” he cackled. “You’re being such a little bitch right now, I knew this would happen.”

Eris growled then slid a hand down his face, before his hands clenched into fists. “Oh fuck right off, alright?” he snarled. “Don’t say a word.”

“A word about what? Your wife?”

“Lucien.” he snarled in warning.

“All I said were the words ‘your wife’. I haven’t actually said anything about Iris.” Lucien said calmly, watching his brother and mustering the most innocent of expressions.

“Lucien.”

Lucien’s lips twitched and he held up his hands as he waited silently.

After a few tense moments, Eris finally mumbled, “We had a moment.”

“Didyou now?” Lucien asked in an amused tone that Eris did not appreciate.

“We had a moment and —,” he grumbled quietly then sighed and ran a hand through his hair once more. “We would’ve had another moment if you hadn’t interrupted — we had a moment and — and things happened.”

Lucien blinked and slowly put a hand on Eris’s shoulder with a look that had Eris immediately regretting ever opening his mouth.

“Brother dearest,” Lucien began in a sympathetic tone that was as fake as it gets. “Has it been that long since you’ve had an erection that you forgot what it feels like?”

Eris snarled and finally swung at his brother but Lucien ducked with a laugh.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry.” he said and Eris settled for shoving him with a glare then resumed his pacing. “This is serious then.”

“This is very serious.”

“I see.” Lucien said and held out his hands again. “I’m sorry. I won’t make fun. Just talk to me.”

Eris scowled, warily watching his brother then resumed his silent pacing.

After a few moments, Lucien sighed. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what the issue is, Eris.”

It took Eris a few more moments of silent pacing before he finally ran his fingers through his hair again, took a deep breath then sighed. “Aside from my erection,” he said with a glare at his brother. “It — something — it has never felt like that before.”

Lucien nodded knowingly. “That’s because you like her.”

“I have liked other females!”

“Yes, but as we’ve said before, you like her and she’s your wife. It’s different.”

Eris rolled his eyes up to the sky then huffed, pacing once more. Lucien had no idea just how different this was.

But did he tell Lucien? He hadn’t discussed it with Iris yet — he wasn’t even sure if she knew. Had she picked up on it or was this another thing he was shoving at her? She’d already been forced to marry him. How would she take it if she knew he was her mate? Knowing how he was. Who he was. He had told her once that he wouldn’t shackle her with him if she wanted out but…would he still be able to let her go if that was what she truly wanted? When she was his and he was hers in a way that trumped everything else?

He glanced at Lucien who stood with his arms crossed, calmly watching him. Though Eris was annoyed by the mild amusement on his brother’s face, it gave him pause. If there was anyone who had been hit on the head with a mate, it had been his brother. Lucien would understand.

Eris grimaced, letting it fall silent for a few minutes as Lucien watched him. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, the sound of laughter stopped him and the brothers turned to glance at their wives strolling towards the garden. He watched as Iris walked with Elain, smiling, and he had a very strong urge to stab himself.

“In all honesty, I never thought this would happen.” he finally said, turning back to Lucien with a frown. “I never thought anyone would be…enough to be what she is to me right now.”

Lucien shook his head with a snort. “You are so fucken full of yourself.” he replied and pointed. “Iris is a much nicer person than you are.”

Eris snorted. “You say that but you haven’t heard the way she threatens me.”

“Do you deserve those threats?”

Eris pursed his lips, trying not to think of the strangest sense of delight he felt whenever she did point a blade at him. “Not always.”

Lucien gave him a knowing look. “You definitely deserved them,” he confirmed then shook his head. “Despite this arrogant and very stupid belief of yours, you aren’t above everyone else, Eris.”

“That’s not — I meant that I would be enough to have something like this happen.” he seethed and Lucien quirked a brow.

“Marriage was bound to happen,” Lucien replied mildly. “You knew this was coming at some point.”

“Okay, but I didn’t ask for this.” Eris hissed, pointing towards the gardens where his — his whatever walked. “Do you know how much harder this will make everything? How much worse?”

This seemed to finally get Lucien to sober up, his expression turning serious. “What do you mean?”

And it was as Eris stared at Lucien, the weight of his discovery today fell on him like a ton of bricks and his expression fell.

If his father found out…she lived inside the court with him. In very close proximity to the High Lord. Eris swallowed. Their situation was far from ideal and it was taking everything in him to make it work. To keep it easy. To keep Iris safe. His father would wield the mating bond against him in ways Eris couldn’t even begin to imagine. It could go very badly.

“Eris?”

Eris glanced at his brother and slowly moved, until he stood directly in front of him, his expression lethally calm.

“I need to know what I tell you will not be told to a soul. Elain is the only exception and only when I give you permission.” he commanded and Lucien’s brows furrowed.

“Okay.”

“No one, Lucien.”

“You have my word.”

Eris swallowed and assessed his brother. He never would’ve dreamed of this moment.

“If I ever need to send Iris to you, tell me she will be safe here.” he said quietly. “Promise me that she will not be in harm's way.”

Lucien tilted his head, turning to briefly glance towards the gardens once more, where Elain and Iris were whispering together, giggling at something they couldn’t hear. “Your wife will always have a place here, Eris. Why?” he asked and Eris licked his lips, bracing himself to say the words that hadn’t left his mouth yet.

His head turned, finding Iris seated among the flowers. It took him a moment but finally, after a breath, he whispered, “She’s my mate.”

Eris felt Lucien stiffen and turned to find his brother blinking rapidly. A beat of silence passed then his brother spoke.

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

“Holy shit.”

“I know.”

“That...shit.”

“You’re only verbalizing what’s been going on in my head since I found out.” Eris said and watched Lucien’s expression shift from shock to amusement.

“When did you find out?”

“Five minutes before you ungraciously interrupted us.”

Lucien went silent for a few moments as Eris stood tensely across from him, then shook his head and huffed out a laugh. “Wait — wait. I’m sorry.” he began then let out another laugh. “You.”

Eris immediately scowled. “Yes?”

“You — you, who had refused to marry for so long.” Lucien started and Eris’s scowl deepened.

“And?”

“You literally threw a tantrum when fa — your father told you to get married.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “I didn’t throw a tantrum.” he grumbled and Lucien let out another laugh.

“You sat in my kitchen and blacked out from drinking.”

Eris waved a hand with a growl. “Your point?”

“Mister ‘I don’t want a wife, no female is good enough for me’,” Lucien continued with a grin. “You, who won’t even admit to liking his dogs enough —”

“— I don’t see the point of what you’re saying —”

Lucien gave his brother an incredulous look that Eris did not appreciate. “Do you realize how emotionally constipated you are? How emotionally constipated you’ve always been?” Lucien said and finally, let out a loud laugh. “Oh gods. This is amazing.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Eris snarled. “This is serious.”

“Oh my gods. You have so many feelings you don’t even know what to do with yourself.” Lucien went on with a cackle. “You barely had it together when she was just your wife!”

“I know!” Eris snapped and waved a hand. “Do you see my problem now?!”

“Oh…oh I see.” Lucien said and at the murderous look in Eris’s eyes, said nothing else, his lips only twitching.

Eris said nothing as well, seething at Lucien’s reaction.

“This is not funny.” he said forcefully. “I am constantly thinking about throwing myself off the highest building. Now I definitely want to.”

“Oh, I bet.” Lucien replied with a wide grin. “This is fucken hilarious. She touched your thigh and you broke a glass. It’s all over my floor.”

“Lucien.” Eris snarled and Lucien finally held his hands up, clearing his throat.

“Right. I’m sorry.” his brother said. “I had to get that out of my system.”

Eris only glared at him and watched Lucien’s lips twitch.

“You’re the fucken worst.” Eris finally mumbled and Lucien let out a low chuckle.

“Yet, you told me first.” he replied smugly and Eris rolled his eyes. “Besides, this calmed you down without resorting to violence.”

Eris blinked. This asshole.

“Violence is still very much on the table.” Eris grumbled and hated to admit that maybe, just maybe, Lucien was right. He was somewhat…less on edge. Maybe. Slightly.

The corner of Lucien’s mouth ticked up. “Overwhelming, isn’t it?”

“I want to kill myself.”

“You’re so dramatic, dear gods.” his brother said and Eris scowled when Lucien shoved his shoulder gently. “Listen closely — pay attention to what I’m going to say to you.”

Eris grimaced as Lucien placed both hands on his shoulders and met his gaze. “I’m uncomfortable.”

“I said listen and shut the fuck up.”

“That is rude.”

“You love the sound of your own voice and I personally hate it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Thank you.” Lucien said and patted Eris’s shoulder aggressively. “Now listen. This is a good thing.”

“No, it’s not.” Eris said immediately. “This is terrible. I already care too much. This is so much worse.”

“It is not. Iris is good for you and you are good for her.” Lucien said calmly. “I’ve watched how you’ve changed since she came into your life. You had no joy until she showed up and it’s made a difference in you.”

“I also have a lot more stress.” he muttered and Lucien chuckled.

“That’s because you’re an idiot.” Lucien said and Eris resisted the urge to flip him off as he continued. “You’ve needed something real like this for as long as I’ve known you and this is as real as it gets.”

“But —”

“She challenges you and settles you all at once.” his brother said and Eris swallowed. “She is your person and she is real. This is real.”

Eris grimaced again and looked away from his brother towards the garden again, where his wife — his mate was. “My father will make this so much worse.”

Lucien stepped back and gave Eris a look. “Are you going to let him?” he asked and Eris snapped his gaze to his brother, hot anger flaring in his chest and before he could control himself, his fire erupted around him, every part of him aflame. “I will kill him if he so much as looks at her wrong.” his words were guttural, so angry he could barely get the words out. “I will skin him alive. I will make up for everything he has ever done to me and mother if he so much as —”

Lucien held up a hand with a small smile. “Exactly. So calm down.” he said gently. “She’s safe with you.”

Eris blinked, the fire around him dampening and he let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as flame licked his skin. He shook his head and began his pacing once more. “Is that enough? I don’t — I won’t put anything past him if he finds out. I’ve seen what he does to people. I know what he does.”

“Then he doesn’t find out.” Lucien said firmly. “I assume your other brothers have had zero interaction with her?”

Eris waved a hand. “They have asked but I haven’t allowed it. You know how they are. They stay out of my way until needed.” he said. “But father…”

Lucien nodded then shrugged. “What is going to give it away? Your scents? You’re married, no one will think twice.”

“He already knows I like her too much.”

“You’re good at pretending. So is Iris from what you’ve told me.” Lucien said and gave him a pointed look. “Keep pretending until you don’t have to.”

Eris nodded slowly even though this type of pretending would be excruciatingly different to anything else he had to do before. He ran his tongue over his teeth and took a deep breath, his fire disappearing. He hesitated for a heartbeat then said, “She doesn’t know.”

Lucien froze, his eyes widening. “What?”

Eris swallowed then shook his head. “I don’t think she knows. I — we — I haven’t asked her yet.”

Lucien shook his head, shoving Eris away from him, and pointed sternly. “You shouldn’t have told me until you told her.”

“You pulled me aside and asked me what was wrong.” Eris snarled. “This — this is what’s wrong.”

Lucien’s lips thinned. “Eris —”

“I don’t know what to do or — or how to behave.” he swore. “I didn’t ask for this and she sure as shit didn’t either.”

“That’s the funny thing about mates…neither of you really ask for it.” Lucien said gently and Eris groaned.

“And what if she doesn’t want this?” Eris asked, trying and failing to hide the hint of desperation in his tone. What if she doesn’t want me that way? “What then?”

Lucien’s expression softened and he nudged Eris. “I think you’ll find that being married helps ease that concern.” he said calmly. “You’ve managed to figure things out so far. You just need to tell her and go from there.”

Eris grunted and shook his head. “This is more than she bargained for. She’s barely begun to like me.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “From my perspective, a person who has only seen you two interact with each other for a few hours, I don’t think you should be as concerned as you are right now.” he said. “Just talk to her. And tell her you told me.”

Telling her would be fine. He would tell her. Of course he would. But…they couldn’t — shouldn’t tell anyone else.

It would be fine. This was just an overwhelming moment. It would be fine.

He sighed and for once, just this once, let his true feelings spill from his lips. “I’m so fucken tired of pretending.” He rubbed his face and said through gritted teeth. “I can’t — I can’t even be happy about this. All I am is stressed. I’m exhausted.”

Lucien’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “I know.” he said quietly.

He shook his head and let it fall back, his gaze at the open sky. “I’ve been on the edge for so long.” he said quietly. “Her father came for a visit today and I beat the living shit out of him. I would’ve killed him had Iris not stopped me.”

“Did he deserve it?” Lucien asked and Eris glanced at his brother, at the hard gaze full of understanding. Eris didn’t have to explain what kind of creature Iris’s father was.

“More than.” he replied. “But I haven’t lost control in so long…I suppose it makes sense given what I know now.”

“Do you think your father will have a problem with it?”

Eris shrugged. “We’ll have to see when I get back, won’t we.”

“Eris…” Lucien started but Eris shook his head and it fell silent between them.

He closed his eyes and thought of anything but his father. He thought of his mother finding her spark again. He thought of his hounds. He thought of the brother standing next to him and his sister-in-law who cared for him. Most importantly, he thought of his wife and the way she trusted him. How she smiled for him and what that smile did to him.

Even if he didn’t deserve an ounce of happiness, he was allowed a moment. A day to be happy with his wife. To guard his little secret as close to his shredded heart as much as he could.

“I won’t let him find out.” He swore quietly, straightening.

“No, you won’t.”

Eris licked his lips, his gaze falling back to the house. “And if he does?”

“Then maybe it’s time the Autumn Court finally gets a new high lord.” Lucien said simply, his gaze hardening. “It’s been long overdue.”

Eris gazed at his brother carefully. “That is easier said than done.” he said then looked away, with a shake of his head. “Besides, you know that move is not mine.”

Lucien shrugged. “When the time comes, it doesn’t matter who makes the move. It matters that it’s done. You owe him a taste.”

Eris closed his eyes, trying not to let the image of his sword lodged in his father’s throat linger for too long. After a quiet moment, he asked, “Until then?”

“My home will always be a safe space for Iris and you.” Lucien said gently. “You know Beron would never dare come here.”

Eris swallowed and nodded again. It would be fine. It wouldn’t need to come to this but a plan never hurt.

Lucien gave Eris one more look then turned to face his home, his eyes on the distant figures of his wife and sister-in-law. “Things will be fine.” his brother said calmly. “You have me. I’m here.”

“Albeit unwillingly?” Eris said, the corner of his mouth lifting, and Lucien chuckled.

“Obviously. I can’t stand you.”

Eris rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to where Lucien looked. They were too far to see clearly but Eris…he felt Iris. He felt a tug of joy at his ribcage. That would certainly take getting used to.

Then again he had always felt that pull towards her. Now, he knew what it meant.

Lucien slid his hands in his pockets with a small smile and said, “Elain says your wife is amazing and she’ll rip your throat out if you upset her.”

Eris snorted. “She’ll rip my throat out herself, no worries.”

“She also said we should come back.” Lucien added and spared Eris one more knowing glance. “Will you be able to handle yourself or should I expect more shattered glass on my floor?”

Eris shot his brother a dirty look and refused to feel embarrassed. He would not flush. “Fuck off.”

Lucien only chuckled.

Iris looked up as she sensed Eris approaching. Her gaze had found him constantly as she and Elain explored outside; it was like a thread being pulled. She couldn’t help herself. She almost felt guilty about it but then she noted the anger radiating off him. The way his fire had erupted around him again and it made her nervous. She wasn’t sure if she was the cause.

She wasn’t sure how to feel at the moment. Excited? Overwhelmed? Nervous? Today had certainly been a lot but — but he seemed fine before they came here. She pursed her lips and then let her gaze fall back to the sweet little bunny in her lap that had twitched when her petting had stopped. She gave it a small smile, hugging it closer to her, and looked up once more to watch him walk closer.

Iris teased him with Lucien and while Lucien was handsome in his own right, Eris…she absolutely hated how embarrassed she felt to even admit it to herself but my, oh my, did Eris look handsome beneath the bright sunlight. Her husband’s stupid confidence alone made her want to —

“You are staring awfully hard.”

Iris blinked, her focus still on Eris, sliding down to his hand where the simple gold ring glinted there. She had never given any mind to their wedding bands. Only really wore her own gold band because that was what they were supposed to do but — but the weight of it definitely felt different on her finger now.

“Hm?” she finally replied, tilting her head towards Elain with her eyes still on her husband.

Elain’s giggle filled the open space as her sister-in-law said, “I daresay, I hope the two of you wait until Lucien and I are inside at least.”

Iris blinked again, hearing what Elain said, and flushed deeply. “I beg your pardon?”

“The grass can add a nice touch to the sensation.”

Iris whirled to glance at her sister-in-law in shock, which only made Elain laugh.

“I’m teasing!”

“Sure sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Iris muttered and tried not to think about what laying in an open field with Eris would feel like. She didn’t need the image of his body over hers, touching her in ways she hadn’t been touched before. She didn’t need to think about his wretched mouth and how it would feel all over her skin. Iris wondered how it would feel to have him on his back and do all the things she’d only heard about through whispers. Her body heated as she tried very hard not to think about it. Eris would be so smug about it if he found out.

She squinted at the sly smile that bloomed on Elain’s face.

“Indeed.” Elain replied and was silent for a moment before that sly smile turned into a grin and Iris already knew whatever she said would be something she wasn’t ready for. “Did you ever hear the saying that not only do the Autumn Court males have fire in their blood but, they —” Elain lowered her voice and choked out with a giggle, “fuck — like it too?”

“No.” Iris choked out, flushing from head to toe. This conversation had taken a turn she was not prepared for. She did not want to start thinking about Eris and what fucking him would be like. She did not want to think about that at all. “Where did you even hear such a thing?”

“My sister Feyre mentioned it once.” Elain said, feeding her little bunny then met Iris’s gaze with a grin, even while blushing. “I’ve tested that theory. It is very true.”

Iris shot up, clutching the bunny in her arms tighter, her face heated. “Elain.”

Her sister-in-law only laughed harder and Iris wanted to throttle her. It took Elain a good minute to stop laughing at Iris’s expression when she finally said, “I never used to be like this. I was too proper of a lady to ever bring up such subjects.”

“Clearly something traumatic happened.” Iris said dryly.

“Oh yes,” she replied with a smile. “I met Lucien.”

“Traumatic indeed.”

“What’s traumatic?” Lucien asked as the brothers finally stopped before them.

“Meeting you.” Elain replied brightly and Lucien blinked then rolled his eyes.

“Ah, yes. So traumatic for you.” he said dully, waving an arm to their beautiful surroundings as both girls laughed.

“Can’t say the day I met your brother wasn’t also traumatic.” Iris said, shooting her husband a look, her stupid heart skipping a beat when he met her gaze.

“Funny you should say that when I was the one who had a chair thrown at him.” Eris said with a snort, his eyes locked on her and Iris could feel the way he cataloged every detail about her.

Iris rolled her eyes, her cheeks blushing lightly, and looked at Elain. “He’s never going to let that go.”

“Threatened with my own dagger.” Eris continued conversationally.

“It slipped into my hand honestly.” she said with a shrug and look full of innocence to Lucien who grinned.

“Something about these Autumn Court boys.” Elain added, gesturing towards the brothers and glancing at Iris. “It screams emotional instability.”

“I personally feel like we should be financially compensated for these unions.” Iris teased and Eris narrowed his gaze on her.

“Wife.”

She couldn’t help laughing again at his indignant tone. “Husband?”

He rolled his eyes but Iris didn’t miss the way the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. Her eyes flickered down to the bunny still in her hands then back up to him before casually taking a step toward him as Eris took a step towards her but Lucien cleared his throat, and they both froze in place.

“Elain, my love?” Lucien said, his lips twitching as he looked at his wife and he held out his arm. “We should get the table ready, no?”

Elain blinked then jumped right up, taking her husband’s arm. “Oh, yes. We definitely should,” she said quickly then grinned at Eris and Iris. “We don’t want you two to starve!”

“Oh.” Iris said, glancing once at Eris — she couldn’t help it really — before turning to smile at Elain. “Let me help you.”

“No!” Their hosts replied quickly and Iris blinked.

“That’s what I’m here for.” Lucien said with a charming smile he directed at Elain, who preened at his attention and then glanced back at Iris. “Please, enjoy the gardens for a little longer.”

“We’ll let you know when it’s ready!” Elain called and promptly dragged Lucien inside, her giggle barely contained.

Iris flushed and tried not to laugh at the way the two scrambled inside. A chuckle escaped nonetheless. “Your brother and his wife aren’t known for being subtle, are they?” she said and turned to finally face him once more.

“Not when it comes to me, at least.” Eris grumbled but it was with no heat as he let his gaze flicker to his wife.

Iris seemed to hesitate, gauging the distance between them, and after a breath of silence, she lowered herself to release the bunny from her arms and then stood slowly. She slid over to Eris’s side and hovered close enough without touching.

“Are you alright? I saw fire.” she asked quietly. “I — I wanted to check on you but Elain said you would be fine talking to Lucien.”

He nodded with a small smile. “I’m alright.” he said, rubbing the tip of his ear. “Are you – are you alright?”

Iris chuckled, shifting on her feet. “I’m fine. I was spending time with the bunnies.” she said, gesturing to the small animals around them.

“I can see that.” Eris said and Iris felt her cheeks heat under the weight of his gaze. The world had suddenly shifted into a pleasant quietness and she couldn’t seem to find the right words to say.

Iris only had eyes for her husband and Eris only had eyes for her.

After another beat of silence, she curled a strand of hair behind her ear and said, “Did — did you and Lucien enjoy your chat?”

“Surprisingly, we didn’t punch each other.” he replied with a small smile. “But I really wanted to.”

Iris rolled her eyes. “You love him so much.”

“Incorrect.”

“So much.”

“That is extremely inaccurate.”

Iris shot him a look that had his lips twitching but she only shook her head again and glanced at him, at the few inches between them. It wasn’t — she wasn’t feeling awkward. She suddenly and annoyingly felt shy. She let it fall silent for another moment then held out her hand. “Let me see your hand.” she asked softly, the need to touch him hitting her like a bag of bricks.

“It already healed.” he mumbled but still, placed his hand in hers. “I’m fine. I just — needed a moment.”

Iris inspected his hand quietly and Eris tried not to listen to how rapidly her heart was beating. He watched her face as she ran her thumb across his palm and willed himself not to shudder.

“It’s healed fine but you need to get it cleaned up.” she said softly and glanced up at him as he peered down at her and stepped closer. “That’s the second time today you’ve hurt your hands.”

“A typical day in the life.” he said and Iris gave him a pointed look.

“You had me worried about you when you stormed out.”

He gave her another small smile. “Someone might think you actually like me with the way you’re worried about me.”

Her lips twitched. “I barely tolerate you.”

“Why, thank you, wife. I barely tolerate you as well.”

They shared another glance and Eris couldn’t help himself as he gazed at her beautiful face with the shy smile, at her bright hazel eyes — couldn’t help himself because he had to, simply had to kiss her. His gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips then back to her eyes again.

Licking his lips, he started to say, “I need to —”

Without waiting for him to finish, Iris cut him off with a whisper of “Yes.”

She reached for him as he reached for her and Eris wrapped his arms around her waist as Iris fell into his embrace, his lips meeting hers as he pulled her firmly into him.

He kissed her and poured every emotion that vibrated through his body into her, delight flaring in him as Iris sank into him with a little whimper, her hands wrapping around him. Eris teased her with a gentle bite to her bottom lip and when she opened for him, his tongue dived in for a taste of her. He kissed and caressed and savored her mouth with his, willing himself not to tremble. Only when he felt her melt into him completely did Eris release her with a groan, resting his face on her shoulder.

Iris shuddered in his arms, a hand hesitantly sliding up his back. “Eris.” she whispered in his ear. “Terrible timing.”

“The absolute worst.” he agreed with a mumble, then lifted his head to bring his mouth against hers again, seizing her lips once more.

Iris let him, fighting back a smile and failing, chuckling against his lips as he tasted her. The chuckle quickly turned into another whimper as he kissed her hard, her heart fluttering wildly and nothing could really prepare her for how badly she needed to have Eris near her, the one person she had never planned to even acknowledge.

When Eris finally pulled back again, simply to glance at her, she let a moment of silence pass between them, watching the blaze in his eyes, and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning up and gently pecking his lips in return. She kissed him once, then twice, then a third time, sensing his growing delight.

“Well. Thank you, wife.” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk when she flushed, even with the rapid beating in his chest. “I’m glad you’re enjoying what I have to offer.”

Iris shifted against him, her hands now smoothing his tunic and she avoided his eyes. “It’s barely anything. Don’t be too flattered.”

He chuckled then took a breath and stepped back, holding out a hand and Iris didn’t hesitate to intertwine her fingers with his, meeting his eyes once more.

“Earlier…” she began and met his gaze. “I thought you were upset with me. With the way you reacted.”

Eris grimaced. “It’s not — you did nothing wrong.” he said quickly. “I needed a moment.”

“Because I kissed you?” she asked, tilting her head to glance at him. “I didn’t realize I was that powerful.”

A weak laugh escaped Eris as he met her gaze. She doesn’t know. I had my whole world turned upside down and she has no idea.

His thumb gently caressed the back of her hand and let a heartbeat pass before he gave her a tight smile. “Who is the one that’s too flattered now?”

Iris narrowed her eyes at him and he quirked a brow in return. “Something is wrong.” she said. “What is it?”

Eris only watched her face. How exactly was he supposed to tell her that something he never thought would happen to him had shifted the world beneath his feet? That she, his wife he had never thought would be more than a task he checked off, had weaved her way into his life, a life he hated almost everything about except for the moments he had started spending with her? That she, his Iris, was going to be the single most wonderful yet stress-inducing thing in his life.

All the panic that Lucien had walked him through was slowly creeping up his spine again.

“Nothing.” he finally said quietly. “Are you…feeling alright? Is there anything bothering you from earlier?”

Iris pursed her lips, her gaze dropping to their joined hands, and was silent for a moment. There was something he wasn’t telling her but she knew better than to push and thought about his question instead.

A lot had happened today. Too much, in fact. But…anything that happened before their kiss had faded from her mind. Eris and his rather heated kisses, what that meant for them now that they — they became a little more physical, was what remained on her mind. What she had told him before they came about her wanting to be more than friends and what that would mean. And that was a lot.

But as she watched his thumb gently caress her hand… Iris knew it would be alright. Maybe she should’ve been more concerned but for all her initial worries about Eris, for all her doubts, today had only solidified what had been building inside her for some time. Everything that Eris was and what she thought he would be, came down to one thought and one thought only — that she wasn’t alone in this. That made all the difference.

She bit the corner of her mouth then looked up and said, “I feel a little overwhelmed but I’m — I’m not worried. More…nervous? But not in a…bad way.” she admitted slowly. “...You?”

Eris hummed softly and held out his other hand so that both her hands rested in his. He liked holding her hands far more than he’d care to admit.

“I’m…fine.” he said dryly and Iris’s lips twitched when his own cheeks heated. “I think you could probably tell I was feeling a tad overwhelmed.”

“Because my kiss knocked you out of this world?” she teased gently. “Guess all that practice came in handy.”

His grip tightened on her hands and said through clenched teeth, “Don’t — don’t bring that up right now.”

Iris’s brow rose in amusement and she fought back a smile. “Wow, you really are sensitive today.”

“Wife.”

He narrowed his eyes at her but Iris only smiled innocently and Eris rolled his eyes.

Clearing his throat, he let it fall silent for a moment before he continued, “But I am…nervous as well. I don’t…know how to be this person. I don’t know how to do this.”

Iris shrugged, her heart swelling at his confession. “Neither do I.” she said and squeezed his hands. “You said that when we first agreed to be friends too but I think we’re doing pretty okay.”

“Aside from you throwing a chair at me and trying to stab me a few times.”

“You’re really never going to let that go, are you?”

“Never.” he said and smirked. “It makes me very aroused to think about.”

Iris rolled her eyes and the corner of Eris’s lips lifted when she mumbled, “You’re very annoying.”

“Annoying I may be but…” he started and the air between them shifted as he gazed at her intently. “I am your husband who is also your friend. That you want to be a bit more than that with.”

He felt her grip tighten on his hands and she glanced down at their joined hands then back up at him. “Yes…I did say that.”

Eris let it fall silent as he looked at her, a whirlwind of emotion coursing through him. He tried to settle on one, be it panic, fear, joy, but in the end, he let them all mingle, focusing only on her. She had no idea he was going to be so much more than that. He would — well, he would be whatever the hell she wanted him to be.

“We should — need to discuss what that means —” he started, his gaze flickering to the space around them. “More privately once we get home.” he finished and Iris tilted her head.

“Alright.” she said with furrowed brows then teased, “Are you afraid the bunnies will spread rumors about you having feelings?”

Eris snorted. “No. But Lucien and Elain are watching us from their kitchen window and they are very nosy.” he said and Iris turned her head to find said couple quickly ducking out of view.

She laughed softly as her cheeks heated. “I hope you know that this visit has been nothing short of mortifying.”

“I nearly always want to assassinate myself after visiting them.”

“Because they tease you?”

“Because they know me too well at this point.” he replied with a chuckle.

“They really do.” she agreed and flushed. “It’s…been something, alright.”

Eris fought against the cascading of emotions brewing in him, fought against the smile as she gazed at him. Before he could stop himself, he let a finger brush against her colored cheeks.

“I like seeing you blush.” he murmured softly and Iris fought back her own smile, glancing down with a shake of her head. “It makes me wonder what you’re thinking about.”

“I’m just thinking about…things.”

“What things, wife?”

Iris’s lips twitched as she looked up at him and shot him a knowing look. “Things.” she only said.

The conversation with Elain had been…enlightening to say the least. Iris never had a doubt that Eris held up his reputation quite seriously to others so she wasn’t too surprised to know he was either strongly disliked or slightly feared. How much of a harlot he was shouldn’t have taken her by surprise either and it took every ounce of logical reasoning not to be irrationally jealous of Nesta Archeron, who was already mated to someone else and wanted nothing to do with him.

But it had warmed her heart just how much Elain and Lucien actually loved him. Knowing how much Eris loved them…it made her want to be worthy of their love too.

The smile dropped from his face and he narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “What exactly have you heard?” Eris asked and Iris laughed.

“Oh you know, things.” she said airily then smirked when Eris scowled. “We can discuss those later.”

“But —”

“Do you hear that? That’s Elain calling.” Iris said and patted him on the chest. “We should go and be helpful guests.”

“Iris.” he started but she only gave a smile, pulling away.

“Surely you hear Lucien calling. He misses his big brother.”

Eris’s scowl deepened. “Wife.”

“Don’t make me accidentally skewer you with a fork, Eris.” she said sweetly, skipping away further when her husband snorted. “All it takes is a slip of the hand.”

“Threaten me with a good time all you want, I will find out what you’ve heard.”

“I’m simply trying to romance you, husband.” she said, pausing on the threshold of the back door to Elain and Lucien’s home. “Play nice, we’re still guests here.”

“I’m floored by your romance techniques.” he said dryly and waved a hand. “And we’re not guests here. Elain says this is my home too.”

“Elain, not Lucien?” she asked with a laugh and Eris shrugged.

“I think he’s still upset Elain likes me more than she likes him.”

Iris laughed again, the sound bringing a small smile to his own face. Her laugh made his wretched heart swell and ache all in one. Her laugh reminded him that things would be fine. She was his mate. He just had to tell her and they would be fine.

He watched her walk into his brother’s home with a shake of her head and knew in his bones, that whatever came next, whatever they faced after this, Eris would do anything — become anything — just to keep her laughing.

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x oc #eris vanserra fanfic #spirit meets the bones #myfics #smtb #with a little elucien in the mix #enjoy brotherly bonding and elain being a little nosy shit #also enjoy these two morons having feelings!#if you're not tagging it's because I assumed you were no longer interested 🥺#let me know if otherwise!!!#I truly look forward to your feelings hehe

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unfinshedsentec · 2 years

Text

WHEN YOU FALL OUT OF LOVE WITH THEM</3

a/n: I’ve gotten multiple requests like this, so I figured I’d combine them and make this beautiful piece of Tokyo rev angst!

Hope you enjoy your daily dose of angst!

reader is gender neutral. And there will be MANGA SPOILERS in this!

characters: mikey, draken, wakasa, and ran

tw: cursing, falling out of love, depression, murder (mikey), hatred, cheating…. pretty much the whole slew of things

-mikey

Long before you even began dating Mikey, you two were inseparable.

He was by far your favorite person. Really, he was the only one who truly understood you. He could empathize with you in ways no one else could. Unknowingly, he saved you, from your own personal hell.

And you were the same for him.

You knew him like the back of your hand, so much so that you were the only one who Mikey would let his guard down around. He’d release all his stress and pent-up emotions around you, after keeping them in for so long.

You knew how vulnerable he could be, and he, you. That’s why, when you began dating Mikey, you vowed to stay by him no matter what. No matter what hardships, what changes, what sadness you’d go through, you promised yourself and him you’d stay by him until the day you died.

Yet, here you were, looking up at the black-haired man feeling not love, but fear.

You don’t know what led you to this point. You used to think you’d die for this man, not wish that he’d leave you and never return. You promised yourself no matter how much he changed; you’d stay by him. Yet, you were looking into those deep black eyes that you used to love and feeling nothing but scared of him…scared that he’d hurt you.

He used to be cheerful, kind, and such a great leader. Now he’s a cold blood murder that you can’t help but hate.

He killed your friends, your family, really anyone you loved just so you’d have only him. You just can’t help but despise him for it! The person you used to see as someone who would never hurt you, hurt you in unimaginable ways. Really, it was no surprise you ended up so out of love with him that you hated him.

But still, a part of you hated yourself for hating him.

You felt frustrated that you couldn’t love him anymore. You felt as if you should love him. You have to love him! But you just couldn’t anymore; you couldn’t take being with him anymore.

You were just so tired, and you hated him so much. You wanted nothing but to escape this hell and be happy.

So, you ran.

You ran as fast as you can, as far as you could. You hoped that you could finally loose him. And maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to live the life you’d always dreamed of.

But dreams are dreams for a reason, right?

There was no escaping Mikey. He was too strong and had too many connections. You were bound to be found the moment you left. And you were.

Mikey found you within days. And he was not forgiving, whatsoever.

When you saw him again, he held the same look in his eyes that he had when he killed all his other friends. It was the look you were always scared of, and the look you prayed he would never give to you. Yet, here you were, trembling while he looked at you in the eyes with a gun to your head. And with no hesitation, he shot you, like you were nothing. But before he did, there was a glimpse of regret in his eyes; a glimpse of sadness; a glimpse of his old self.

The old Mikey was still in there, just buried down deep. Unfortunately, you’d never live to see that again.

You’d never see Mikey happy again; not until the day he himself, died….

-draken

Draken was your best friend, he really was.

He was the one who you’d talk to about everything. You ranted to him about things that bothered you, excited you, or just confused you; and he’d always just sit there and listen. You just adored being around him, and him you. He was quite literally the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

And you, were lucky enough to get to date that person.

You got to be with him through everything. In his happiest and saddest moments, you were there. From when he got stabbed, to when he started his bike shop, you were right by his side. And you always believed you would be.

You couldn’t see a future without him, and frankly, you still can’t. The only difference there is now, is that you don’t want to marry him, you want to watch him get married.

You knew something was seriously wrong when you wished Emma lived and Draken got his happy ending with her. When you looked at yourself in old pictures you had with Draken, you just looked so happy…so in love. And he looked just as in love, if not more. You found yourself wishing he was looking at someone else like that, not you. Deep down, you wised that you were just…friends.

The moment you realized such feelings, you were burdened with guilt. You used to love him so unbelievably much, but here you were barely able to look at him from being so guilty. You wanted to still be in love with him, you did! But for some reason you just felt like you were drifting away.

You tried your to fix it. You tried falling back in love with him, but the more you tried and the more you’d look back, the more you realized just how out of love with him you were. And God, you hated yourself for it so much.

You’re supposed to love him no matter what! You promised to love him through thick and thin, yet here you were starting to back out. You hated yourself for not loving him, and you hated that even when you realized it, you couldn’t fix it.

You just hated yourself so much, and after months of suffering through this, you did the only thing you felt would help lift the guilt off your shoulders.

You told Draken. And he looked so heartbroken the moment you did.

His face dropped the moment you said, “I don’t love you anymore”. You could see from the look in his eyes that his heart shattered into a million pieces; right then and there. You felt nothing but guilt when he clearly began holding tears back.

You were his world, and now you’re telling him that even you, can’t love him.

“…Why? What did I do?!” Draken asked, squeezing your shoulders.

“I don’t know! I really don’t know! It just happened….” You sighed. You squeezed his hand in return, only for him to softly intertwine your fingers in yours.

“Isn’t there anyway we can fix it? Is there any saving grace?”

“I don’t know… I want to, but-“

“So, you’re willing to give it a shot?!” he yelled, a glimpse of hope appearing in his eyes.

You were unsure about trying again. You had already tried once, and you seriously doubted it would work, but when you saw how hopeful Draken was and when you remembered how amazing old times were, you couldn’t help but want to try again. You had to try again, for your own sake and his…

“I suppose we can give it another shot”

Although it wasn’t the result you expected, giving your relationship another shot was what happened. And it most definitely was the right option.

With the help of Draken, and your therapist, you were able to fall back in love with Draken all over again. You turned a new page onto your relationship, and now, you were more in love with Draken than you were before.

Unfortunately, he died before your relationship could get further.

Damn :(

-wakasa

When you started dating Waka, it was one of the happiest moments in your life.

You not only got to be with the person you loved the most, but you got to date your best friend. At the time, nothing made you happier than Waka. You loved being around him and seeing him smile. You loved looking back on old pictured and seeing the way he looked at you. You loved listening to him talk about all the things he loved. You just loved him, more than anything.

But years later, you found yourself beyond distant from him.

It was like he was a stranger; someone you’d never known. And it all happened so quick.

One day, he was the person you loved and adored, the next he was in the Kantou Manji Gang with a ton of psychos. You were a huge scaredy cat, and you couldn’t help but look at him differently; completely differently.

You hated yourself for looking at him like that. Like he was a psycho who could hurt you at any time. After all, the person who loves you should be the one person who doesn’t judge you! But you just couldn’t help it. You feared him.

It didn’t help that he was more distant too. You found yourself ignoring him, and him ignoring you. You no longer had long nightly talks in bed. In fact, you were now sleeping in different beds. You wouldn’t go to the gym and have lunch with him, and he’d just never come home for dinner.

It was like you two were complete strangers living under the same roof. Only, you’re technically dating.

Soon enough, Wakasa started coming home later and later. He’d come home smelling like other girls, and with marks on his neck. You too, started coming home later…only you’d tried to hide it more than him.

You were both stuck in a relationship you weren’t happy in, cheating on each other. Yet, you were still living in the same house, under the same roof, still technically together.

It was only when you caught Waka with another girl that you finally had to talk to him about your relationship.

“I don’t love you anymore.” You both said, facing each other. It hurt to hear those words, but it was the truth.

You saw each other as nothing but strangers now, you certainly weren’t in love anymore. In the end, you came to a mutual decision to spilt up. And once you did, you never saw each other again. You heard rumors about your ex-boyfriend, but you never actually saw him. And although you did grieve your old relationship, you did eventually move on.

It was a sad ending to things, but it was the ending that needed to happen. That was the truth that you just had to accept, no matter how much it hurt…

-ran

When you started dating Ran, you thought you’d be together forever.

In your mind, he was your person. He understood you and loved you in ways no one else would. He looked at you like you were the brightest star in the sky. He always showed so much love and adoration for you, how could you not love him back?!

Really, you thought your love with Ran would never end.

But back then, you were young and blinded by love. Now, years later, you found yourself completely out of love with him. And honestly, that was relieving to you.

Sure, you loved Ran, and sure, you still longed to have your old relationship back with him, but you just couldn’t be with him anymore.

You hated that he hurt people, and you despised that he’d even kill some. It hurt you that he always chose his gang over you. Your heart broke every time he’d leave you for Roppongi, even on the most important days.

You were always the second option. And the more and more you heard about your friends’ relationships and how much their partners love them, the more you’d question your own. Why were you always the second option? Why would he always leave you like you were nothing? Why didn’t he love you like he was supposed too?

Why couldn’t Ran just be a boyfriend?

But still, even knowing how terrible he was, he’d always come home and love you. At the time, just the minimal amount of love was enough, and you stayed with him. For months, years even, you thought the bare minimum was enough and you put up with all his bad behavior.

What broke the straw was when you found out he was hooking up with other girls.

He had you, and he always told you he loved you, but clearly he didn’t love you enough. He put you to the side, and even chose these other girls over you. You were nothing but the girl he kept around. And the moment you found that out, you didn’t feel sad or angry. You were just sort’ve done.

You were tired from dealing with him and his antics. You were tired of being hurt constantly. You were just so tired of him, and his toxicity.

It was pretty much bound you’d fall out of love with you, and you’d leave him.

Not long after you found out about the cheating, you left him all by himself. He begged you to stay, and that he’d treat you better. He promised that he loved you and only you and that he’d do anything for you, but you didn’t buy it. Nor did you want to listen to it.

So, you left him. And you couldn’t be happier!

Falling out of love with ran Haitani was the best thing that could’ve happened to you, and now, you’re happier than ever~

//end!

masterlist || reblogs are very appreciated

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onlyjaeyun · 3 months

Note

hey my love <3

i don't remember if i sent an ask already today bc i read the chapter first thing after waking up (i did this yesterday too that's why there were 2 asks) so im sorry if you see two again😅

and yass he admitted it !!!! i knew it (and i bet everyone did bc i don't think you wanted to hide it in the prev chap) but i didn't expect him to admit it like that🤭

but his excuses were shit tho🤨 like no one believes you hoonie (or at least i don't)

i feel like even though yn did something bad (according to hoon i mean) that broke their friendship, he still couldn't help the care he has for her bc its rooted deep in his heart (even if he refuses to acknowledge or admit it to himself). and since he IS actually a decent human being who is only mean to yn bc of what she did (again, acc to sunghoon) he went and beat up jaemin. bcuz if you used to be close to someone, no matter how much you hate them there's still at least a tiny part of your heart that still cares abt them bc there's just no way you'll be able to completely not care or stay indifferent if smth bad happens to them if you've ever loved them truly (i mean this for platonic love too, speaking from experience 😌)

this makes me even more excited abt their relationship like i can imagine him being fiercely protective of her 🫣 and when they finally have sex without the hatred 🥴 knowing you, i can already predict my state upon reading that in the future:

_____________________ | | | RIP | | | | here lies | | | | selene | | | | dod: the day zadie posts | | ch!ynhoon making love | | | _____________________

(that was highly unnecesary and extra of me, but i am not embarrassed😌)

anw here's your daily dose of love🫶🏻: my amazing sweet talented angel baby i hope you had a good night's sleep (and a good day today too bc you're prolly reading this at night i think?) bc your health is very important <3 go to sleep with a happy mind my love

sweet dreams x

🌕

aaaah selene my moon baby 🥺🤍pls dont ever be sorry about sending multiple asks, i genuinely appreciate them all and the fact you take time out of your day to send me this means the world to me so thank you

i think at this point i made it quite obvious but i still wanted to give you guys the satisfaction of having him confirm it himself 🤭

i love love love your theory so so much and i think ive already saidnit once before (i cant remember tbh) that there's a misunderstanding on both sides so this is definitely possible but who knows 🤭

honestly i cant wait for the big reveal but we've still got a loooong way to go so buckle up and be ready for the angst baby 🤭🤍

thank you so, so much for your heartwarming words. you never fail to make me feel loved and appreciated and it honestly is smth i wont ever take for granted. i hope you have great day and know how loved you are. sending you such a big kiss rn 🥺💞🫧

#; mailbox 📬#; cold hearts

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just2bubbly · 2 years

Text

Masterlist

Guess who is back with the daily dose of angst? None other than me obviously! Special thanks to @fangirlforever0704 for giving me the motivation the write this. This one can be read as a continuation after the last one shot I posted just 3 days ago.

Rooting for your Happiness!

Ship: Kaider

Words: 2.1k

Genre: Angst

A/N: Timeline set post-break up.

Cinder's Perspective:

With elements of unbound joy, taking roots in her life like this it was hard to contain her smiles and laughs. At 16, her only desire was to leave the abusive household of Adri behind her and make herself a living in Europe. It wasn't the best dream but it made her happy, nonetheless. She had her skills to trust in and Iko to keep her motivated throughout. At 17, she only wanted a good night's sleep. At 18, she wanted the media to stop criticizing her for once and a good night's sleep was still desired. At 20, she wanted to be a just queen and make herself the best Lunar Queen, not like there was much competition. It was a heartless, murderous tyrant against a generous cyborg girl, it wasn't hard to tell who would win the best ruler award. At 25, she wanted to stop giving a fuck and marry Kai. At 26, she just wanted to give up on her shot at happiness- 10 years is all it takes to shatter her spirits.

Most time she endured the possibilities of being an ex-lunar queen and an Ambassador at best. However, sometimes she just had to face realities that weren't easy to digest, and right now one of her worst dreams was being relived.

"Do you take Kaito for your lawfully wedded husband?"

I can't.

"I do."

She had always thought about what her life would be like had she been human enough to marry a man. Adri always said no one would marry a cyborg. Peony always told her she would find someone who would love her more than life itself. No one told her what she would face when she would find the man who loved her more than life but won't marry her.

Cinder was an independent woman. Selene was an independent Queen. But in the grey area of the mingling of her own two embodiments, she just wanted happiness- wanted to call someone truly her own and be the same for someone- for Kai.

The white veil was never made for her- she thought she won't ever be a blushing bride. The sadistic irony of not being able to either of the two viciously made her smile. She would rather be an audience before the people who she truly loved- smiling for the ceremony she would never experience herself. Perhaps, this could be her dictatorship origin story. What a trifle thought!

She shook out of her reverie thanks to the question asked-

"I am sure this would be difficult for you, Selene," commented Queen Camilla.

Cinder was never fond of Camilla since she always teamed up with once President Vargas to bring up the insanity of her relationship with Kai.

"It's a happy day for Emperor Kaito. I hope to find peace for my difficulties in his happiness."

"I am happy to know you have taken the news rather politely. Alas, you know - Lunars have a thing for theatrics."

A low blow to her aunt and herself. As she grew older, Cinder did find justified reasons to see the logic behind the tyrant nature of her own Aunt Levana.

She nodded in return, tried and failed to create a smile, instead she looked forward with regality.

Unfortunately, Kai didn't have any living family remaining except for the crew of criminals or refugees from The Rampion. Torin had taken his rightful place next to Kai, so the entire front row was made for dignitaries and world leaders, both to which she belonged.

Cruel fate wanted to give Cinder a very close look at the misery that made her synthetic heart constrict with pain and heartbreak and prevented her eyes from shedding a single drop of tear.

She didn't have much to do but talk with the mingling crowd, boring leader and smile politely for the camera, drink a decent amount of champagne, and silently loathe Chen Daiyu.

"There's still time for kidnapping the groom," someone whispered.

"Once in a lifetime is enough, Thorne."

"I am just saying, sometimes a few things can be done twice. All you have to do is ask and my handsome presence will likely help."

She glanced at the genuine concern in his eyes. Everyone expected her to make a scene today. Iko had given her a pep talk about happiness and moving on in the morning. Sweet little Cress had offered for any damage control in case things went wrong, Wolf and Scarlet were ready to break anyone's bones that tried to bring up any hostile matters. All the fucking stars, even Jacin had given her a very supportive smile. All that they didn't realize was the fact that she wasn't made for fanfare. She had given up on a lot of things in life- love, freedom, friendship, Kai. Today she won't ruin the day for Kai. Rather she would accept her fate and smile happily and say polite words for his sake.

"You deserved better, Cinder. You both deserved so much."

She looked at the newly-wed couple dancing to the melody of some second-era Chinese Opera.

"He looks so happy, Thorne," she stated.

He pulled her closer, rubbing her hand for comfort, "He isn't happy. I have spent the entire night consoling him. I think you should talk with him."

" Yeah, and what should I say? Have fun with consummating tonight or happy married life!"

"Uh- Cinder I like you better when you try to kill everyone with your eyes. This emotion thing isn't my business."

"I know, Thorne. You suck at it. Now, look at me turn them into ashes as I wish them happiness."

"That's my girl."

"Yeah, what's better 'Take care of him for me' or 'You should discard my cyborg's feet from your chambers now"?

"The lower the blow the better."

"I will make you proud."

"You always do."

"Thorne-" that was too much of validation to say at the moment, Cinder had no idea how to take it. Specifically the fact that she got it from Thorne, the least expected candidate. The two were more likely to express their gratitude in 'hate you' than in a kind gesture.

"Forget I said that."

"I can't believe you said that."

"I can't as well. Maybe I'd had too much of a drink," he excused.

A long pause, where Cinder contemplated if her upcoming words were the right thing to say.

"I'm proud of you as well."

"I know."

They just stared at each other for a while, trying to find the right words to say. All that crossed her mind in bright red, underlined words that she couldn't stress enough was how awkward the situation was.

"We pretend this never happened."

"Deal."

A sigh of relief, from both of them.

"You think I should talk with him?" She asked as she tried to stir the conversation towards something less emotional.

"I think you should. Give him closure or some bullshit like that. And yea, be nice- all nice nice."

"When have I ever been something but nice?"

"Cinder, you are meaner than Jacin without trying."

"I'd take that as a compliment."

"Oh please, spare some drama at least."

"I'd do it now."

"What?"

"He is staring and she is staring at us and this is the best chance to spare you some drama."

"Cinder, don't do something stupid ."

"I won't, Thorne. That's your job." She smirked, and he pouted in mock hurt.

Bantering helped her put her emotions at bay, but she had already started walking toward the pair who were openly staring at her. Everyone was staring, would be an understatement. If she wasn't wrong, all eyes in the room were glued to her wondering what was going to unfold before them.

"Congratulations to the beautiful couple," she sounded a note higher to break the sudden tension in the room. It did its work as the crowd took the hint and pretended to look away.

"Thank you, Ambassador Blackburn," Chen Daiyu replied courteously. It was polite and lacked any preconceptions.

"Oh the formalities aren't necessary at all, just call me Selene."

Selene was her regal name, she loved the way it gave her a mask of protection without having to do anything. Names held powers in ways that were always unknown to her but that didn't stop Cinder from manipulating them. Ten years of being a powerful figure in intergalactic politics had taught her well.

"In that case, please call me Daiyu as well."

"It's a beautiful wedding, Daiyu. You both look amazing," she commented pointedly looking anywhere in the room but them.

"Thank you, Selene. It was Kai's idea, he put a lot of work to get all the things right," she said as her eyes shone with love.

Cinder didn't mean to get regretful over her situation but seeing Chen Daiyu being second to her for Kai, created a rather disturbing image in her mind.

It was clear that the girl was stuck between her and Kai without meaning too. Perhaps she saw the same love and devotion in him that Cinder saw once as well. Her having to live a life as the second choice of someone was a crueler fate to live is what Cinder believed. Cinder herself knew the sorrows of growing in the shadow of someone else and never being quite enough to satisfy the wants. All of a sudden, she felt pitiful for the woman before her. Although Cinder had lost both Kai and herself in the last year, Chen Daiyu was unable to find herself in Kai; for Kai was too lost in all the things that they had of the past.

Her silence for this long didn't seem polite so she continued, "I'm sure it's a happy day for both of you. I won't take much of your time, I wish happiness to you. Happy married life, Daiyu, and Kai." The words seemed foreign on her tongue but they were genuine.

"Daiyu-" someone called for the bride.

"Just spare me a minute, Selene. You can talk with Kai till that time. It was lovely meeting you," she said in a hurry, to move across to the caller.

Cinder looked in shock, was the woman blind to her relationship with Kai, or was she too kind to think that Cinder and Kai won't cross any lines? All she knew was that Cinder won't have done the same had she been in her shoes.

Kai and Cinder were perhaps having the same thought when they glanced at the space where Daiyu was just present. Now that left both of them in perfectly choking silence.

"I'm happy for you, Kai." She finally broke the silence, with kinder words.

"Thank you, Cinder."

The last time they had talked Cinder had been very bitter, breaking all ties between them ruthlessly. Today she wanted to break the silence and be kinder in spirits to both of them.

"Kai,-" she called for his attention, he perked up at her, staring right in her eyes. It was very intimidating and she wasn't habitual to it anymore.

"Uh- well, you know like- gosh, she is rather lovely. Good taste." Go fuck yourself, Cinder is what she said to herself.

"Err- like thanks?"

"That was a stupid thing to say."

"I agree."

"I mean, we should let go of our past now, Kai. I hope you have a happy married life."

"Cinder-" he breathed, "I wish things hadn't ended like this between us. I'm sorry for all the sorrow I caused you."

"I'm sorry about last time as well."

He smiled at her, slightly, "I'm rooting for your happiness."

There was no blink of orange light to confirm that he was lying.

It was a funny thing. They were in such a different scenario than the one they had anticipated but it wasn't really that bad.

"I know, Kai. I will see you around." She replied, it slightly felt like good old times again. She knew it would take longer than just two lines of genuinely wishing happiness to each other to get back to normal but they were willing to embark on that journey only to make lives better for themselves and each other. The smiles that they shared now were of hope for happy lives without being significant halves of each other but still being a part of the other's life.

She smiled back at Thorne who was staring at her all this time, a nod to show that it went well.

"What's such a beautiful lady doing without a partner on the dance floor?"

"Oh, I'm not-"

"Even a mirror would tell you are lying, would you share a dance?"

Perhaps the gentleman before her thought she was about to deny his claim of beauty.

"I- Well, I don't-" I'm rooting for your happiness, he looked at her expectantly, "I didn't catch your name?"

"Julian,"

"Well Julian, don't tell me I didn't warn you when I step on your feet later."

"The gesture shall be returned, dear." He said and winked at her, making her bubble with laughter.

"Then lead the way, Julian."

She smiled on the inside, Kai was happy and Cinder was free from the shackles of grief after so many months.

As she spun around in the arms of Julian, she glanced at Kai and Daiyu who were whispering back and forth- thinking, they both deserved so much.

Words of her dear cousin rang in her ears, "It's all going to get better."

Soon.

That's all for today! Be sure to leave kudos and hearts! Thanks for reading! :))

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @slmkaider @salt-warrior @cinderswrench @cinderswrench @impossiblesuitcase @linhcinder686 @kaider-is-my-otp @greenalmond @kaiderforever @deprivedmusicaljunkie @cosmicnovaflare @justcatchrosesandthornes @shellyseashell and lemme know if anyone wants to be tagged.

#kaider #tlc #lunar chronicles #marissa meyer #linh cinder #cinder #angst fic #just2bubbly writes #just2bubbly fics #emperor kaito #chen daiyu #konn torin #carswell thorne #fanfiction

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ressesofthepeaces · 2 years

Text

something something Will siting limply on the bathroom floor quietly sobbing after losing several patients while Nico gently washes the blood off Will’s hands with a rag and bowl of water without saying anything because he knows just being there is enough

#your daily dose of angst from your truly #enjoy #prompt perhaps?#I have an image of this in my head and I live for it #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #solangelocore #trials of apollo #percy jackson #nicocore #significant annoyance #pjo hoo toa

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heavenly-roman · 4 years

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headcanon that roman moves schools a lot, so he feels the need to be loud and boisterous so that his classmates and friends won’t forget him.

it never works

#roman sanders #roman sanders headcanon #hi hello heres ur daily dose of roman angst #from your favourite roman stan #hey lex made a post and it wasnt about roceit? truly shocking

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choupichoups · 5 years

Note

What are your thoughts on Nicholas Sparks?

Idk nothing LOL I haven’t finished a single book from him and I haven’t seen a single film based on any of them because romance genre doesn’t interest me

#ask #this just in #I'm very picky with what I read and watch #the littlest things that others wouldn't care for #can very easily make me stop watching or reading without finishing #I like cute fluffy fic #but outside of that I get sTRANGE #my pea brain is into action and angst #and the more subtle the romance #the more I dig it #subtle as in #I don't need to see or read that 2 charas kiss to know they're in love #that kind of subtle #and because of my very weirdly specific tastes #I barely get into anything #but when I do #I'm obsessed forever #Anonymous #anyway this is your daily dose of tag rant from yours truly

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joheunsaram · 3 years

Text

glitter and disquiet (jjk) - 1

Part of the Sons of Midas Collab

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

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

word count - 18.5k (buckle up buckaroooos!)

pairing- ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader

rating- R

genre- angst, smut, fluff, chaebol!au

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad -”

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

“Well, mom—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He did deserve it. Very much so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-----------

“Good morning, Mr Jeon!”

“Would you like a coffee?”

“No appointments for you today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Rich people are so fucking ignorant.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll give you however much you want!” Jungkook walked briskly to catch up easily to you. He didn’t know why he was being so insistent, especially since he was supposed to hate you after he had overheard you make some pretty terrible comments about him at a party once. All he knew was that you seemed to have insights that no one else had and he needed to learn them.

“Typical. Not everything can be bought, especially not me.” You rolled your eyes at him, opening the doors to the lecture theatre, but only wide enough for yourself, taking in a little too much joy in the way he struggled to get his stupidly broad frame through the small gap.

“That’s not what I meant. Come on, Y/N. At least hear me out,” he almost begged. It was widely out of character from the Jungkook you knew. Usually, he was all cold stares and dry remarks. The only time you had seen his expression change from serious or zoned out was when you ran into him at a trashy frat party, but you don’t like to think about that night.

“Nope,” you repeated, getting a little annoyed by his constant attempts.

“I’ll convince you,” he said as he finally stopped following you, jaw clenched in determination that only made you roll your eyes.

“Try your best, Jeon.” You waved at him with a laugh as you made your way to the library to work on your upcoming presentation.

And so he did.

Over the next two week, he tried everything in his power to convince you. At first, it was small. He would bring you a coffee to your lectures, black with one sugar, just the way you liked it and you were afraid to ask him how exactly he knew your order. Much to Jungkook’s chagrin, his daily coffees were rewarded with another rejection.

He decided to up his game. Knowing that your next project for Business Ethics required partners, he walked into your Assistant Professor’s office with five hundred thousand won in cash in an attempt to convince her to pair the two of you up. He did everything the movies showed him, placing the not very subtle wad of cash in his palm as he shook her hand while iterating how much he would appreciate it if he was partnered with you. He almost got suspended on the spot. Good thing he was top of his class in negotiations, otherwise the tabloids would have had a field day.

He sat next to you at every lecture, much to your annoyance. He bought you lunch everyday, ranging from pizza to sushi to even some homemade ramen that you were sure one of his home chefs had prepared. Much to your obstinate resolve, he was wearing you down. Day after day, you were growing increasingly endeared by how he would try to find a new way to convince you. Once he explained what he needed your help with, you were curious, not above admitting that brainstorming a new game with the future CEO of the world’s biggest gaming company sounded extremely fun.

Your resolve was finally broken when he took to social media, leaving comment after comment on your videos and photos. Usually you would never notice something like that, bombarded with thousands on the daily, but the man had the audacity to use his company account. Of course you would notice if Jaunty Games was suddenly commenting “Come on Tiger! Say yes!” on every video you had ever uploaded.

“Okay fine! I’ll do it, you absolute insane person!” you exclaimed when he once again started listing his pro-cons list before class.

“You will?” he asked, beaming widely, his nose scrunched, and you had to resist the urge to put on your sunglasses with how bright his smile was.

“On one condition,” you replied, just as the professor walked in and unceremoniously started the lecture, ignoring the way Jungkook silently clapped in glee. “You have to beat me in ChampCon.”

Jungkook’s face fell just in time for the smug smile to appear on yours.

----------

Walking into Jungkook’s apartment, you were taken aback by the almost humble abode. Of course, located in Hannam the Hill, you had expected it to be lavish, but other than the large size, the apartment was simple. Late afternoon light streamed in through the floor to ceiling windows that lined the west end of the apartment, bathing the living room in a glow that seemed to be absorbed by the all black furnishings.

It was an open concept, the narrow hallway from the front door leading into the living room that was flanked on one side by windows and the other by a kitchen island, and another hallway that you assumed led to the bedrooms. The walls were adorned by various grayscale photographs that you assumed were taken by some of the best in the world.

“So welcome,” he said enthusiastically, leading you to the plush leather couch in the centre of the room, his laptop already displaying the game, before heading to the kitchen and returning with a tray piled high with cookies and popcorn. “Are you ready for me to win?” he asked with a cocky smirk, even though he knew he stood absolutely no chance of winning.

“Why? Did you boot up some secret cheat codes?” you asked, taking your laptop out of your bag and setting it up on the mahogany coffee table, smirking at the way he scowled in response. It was almost adorable.

“I don’t need cheat codes to beat you.” He most definitely did, but Jungkook would never resort to cheap tricks to win. His pride would never let him.

“Sure, we’ll see about that,” you smirked, cracking your neck before starting a classic game, hiding the fact that you were already at the Master ranking.

Despite your earlier teasing, you found it surprising that Jungkook was actually terrible at ChampCon, often accidentally hitting his own team members and missing marks, in spite of having multiple expensive add-ons. How could someone whose father created the game be so utterly bad? It took barely fifteen minutes for the game to end, with Jungkook’s teammates spamming the chat with insults and him falling into the couch in defeat.

“Oh my god! How are you this bad?!” You laughed. You almost wished he had used some cheat code. It felt as if you were taking advantage of him.

“I don’t play, okay?” he huffed, looking away, and you had an urge to wrap him in your arms. That was new. Usually you just wanted to bully him more.

“Fine. I’ll help you with your project,” you said, not wanting to see him look so dejected any more. Your words worked wonders, though, because as soon as they left your mouth, Jungkook sat up in shock, doe-like eyes wide in surprise.

“You will?”

“Honestly, you’re so bad at this game, you need all the help you can get,” you joked, expecting him to throw an insult back at you, but all he did was smile softly, a little ‘thank you’ leaving his lips and making your heart oddly skip a beat.

Time passed by quickly after, the two of you spending a few hours talking about what he thought was wrong with his games and figuring out what the competition was doing better. Jungkook had already done a little too much research on the topic over the weeks he’d spent trying to convince you, but he pretended not to know much, opting to hear your explanations instead. He enjoyed the way you would go off on tangents about societal values and norms that influenced the market. It was interesting hearing about video games not just from their mechanics but from a more sociological view, interspersed by philosophical insights as you quoted Bauman and Malinowski with ease. He wondered why he had written you off based on an inebriated overheard conversation.

-------

Jungkook was nervous. What started as a way to finally get over Candy had manifested into a full blown crush. A crush that seemed to be requited? The moment you had run him over, he’d been intrigued. The confident, indifferent attitude you possessed had him hooked, and it only escalated when he discovered that you were in every single one of his classes.

He didn’t even want to come to this party - only deciding to leave his apartment after Seokjin had jokingly said he was too scared to go, and Jungkook wanted to prove him wrong. Donning his leather jacket and usually black jeans and shirt, he entered the overflowing house that stood a little ways from the university, a six pack in hand and nerves high. Although Jungkook’s training had made him exceptional at interpersonal relationships, he still found socializing daunting, especially without the comfort of his usual crew.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he sipped his beer, hoping someone would start a conversation so he could feel less awkward. Perhaps someone would ask him to share one of the beers he had brought. Perhaps someone from class would be there. Perhaps you would come up to him.

“Hi, you’re Jungkook right?” A sugary voice broke him out of his thoughts as he looked at the woman in front of him. Dressed in a lace bodysuit that emphasized her curves and jeans that made Jungkook gulp, the stranger gave him a wide smile, her teeth blinding.

Jungkook hummed in response, finding it hard to speak, feeling so out of his element that his grasp on his native language disappeared. She didn’t seem too put off by his sudden muteness, instead closing the gap between them, her finger slowly trailing from his collar to his torso.

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, okay?” she whispered leaning into him, her breath ghosting his ear and making his skin erupt in goosebumps. “I want you to take me upstairs and fuck my brains out.”

He couldn’t help but recoil in response. Ever since Jimin had started the rumour that he was some deity in bed in undergrad, Jungkook was used to offers like this, but usually they weren’t so… forward. He wasn’t a complete prude, of course, but the thought of having sex with a stranger whose name he didn’t even know made him extremely uncomfortable, and the way she was touching him suddenly made his skin crawl.

“No, thanks,” he said, stepping away from her, feeling a little guilty as her confidence crumbled in front of him. “I’m sorry, I just don’t do that,” he clarified, only for her to snort, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t have to lie, you can just say you don’t want to,” she sneered before walking away, leaving Jungkook confused, trying to figure out how to explain that he didn’t mean to be condescending. Before he could decide whether going after her was a good idea, your voice interrupted his inner monologue.

“Wow, already breaking hearts. It’s barely midnight,” you quipped, sipping on something out of a disposable cup, and all of Jungkook’s worries disappeared, his heart skipping a beat. Before he could defend himself, you started giggling at what he assumed was his shell shocked expression. “Oh, is that Lowenbrau?” you asked, picking a bottle from next to him and examining the label.

“Yeah… you want some?” Jungkook asked and was greeted by a grin from you as you helped yourself to a bottle, uncapping it by hooking the cap on the counter and hitting the top in a way that was far too attractive for Jungkook to fathom.

The conversation after that flowed seamlessly, the two of you enjoying beers and then some tequila that was left abandoned by someone. You talked about your classes, making fun of your Ethics professor who suspiciously enough defended dictators a little too much. It had at least been an hour and Jungkook was ecstatic he had been goaded into attending this party. He enjoyed the way your eyes sparkled with mirth when you leaned in and mimicked the fighting couple at the door, making fake dialogue to make him laugh. He liked that you seemed so at ease; it made him comfortable, his usual tongue-tied self around you disappearing in the alcohol bubbling in his veins. That is until, after a joke, you leaned into him giggling, your hand covering your mouth and he was mesmerized by the little laugh.

You paused then, your eyes looking into his, and his heart stopped. This was the moment. The moment where he should lean over and kiss you, but he had never felt more scared, his hand in a fist as he tried to control the way it was trembling. He felt so out of his depth, like a scared little kid. He had kissed others before, but he knew what was expected. He was expected to sweep you off your feet, kiss you and then ravish you - and suddenly he felt like he was going to throw up. He was still in love with Candy, he realized, ignoring the way his heart sank at the thought, despite it sprinting in his chest.

“Sorry. I don’t want this,” he said abruptly, pushing you away, not missing the way you scowled at him, obviously offended. He moved quickly, making his way to the thankfully unoccupied bathroom and emptying his stomach’s contents in the toilet. After a few long minutes of catching his breath, and using the mouthwash he found under the sink to rinse his mouth, Jungkook looked at himself in the mirror. He needed to get over Candy. Candy was not his soulmate, he reminded himself. His soulmate would only look at him, not be drowning in men in a foreign country trying to distract herself from the fact that she was still in love with his hyung years after he left her. With his rationality returning, he remembered the way you made him feel - safe, even when you made his heart flutter, and it made his decision for him. He was going to apologize to you, and he was going to stop comparing every single woman he met to his childhood crush.

With determined steps he walked back into the party, his eyes scanning the room for you, and his face lighting up when he finally saw you talking to a group of your friends, laughing and drunkenly gesturing with your hands. He smiled softly, making his way towards you, hoping you would give him another chance. However, as soon as he heard what you were laughing about, his face fell, his chest heaving in a way that felt like he had just been stabbed.

“Jungkook? Fuck that entitled himbo. I could never like him,” you giggled in that pretty way that always had Jungkook weak, except this time it made venom rise within him. “You think I’m gonna fall in love with a chaebol? All those guys are spoiled fuckboys. No, thank you!”

----------

It was almost midnight by the time the two of you decided to break for dinner with a game of Mario Kart. You screamed joyously as your Princess Peach overtook Jungkook’s Bowser once again, feeling extra evil and deciding to leave a banana peel in your wake that he once again missed dodging. You were laughing, and couldn’t remember the last time you’d had this much fun. You hadn’t spent time with him since the party that soured your interactions two years ago and you regretted writing him off.

“Another?” he asked gleefully as the screen showed him in third and you at first, wanting to beat you at least once. With years spent studying games, he had almost forgotten how fun it could be to actually play them with someone. Sure, he occasionally convinced Seokjin and Taehyung to play with him but they never wanted to play something other than ChampCon and that had dampened his enthusiasm.

“You’re on,” you replied with a grin, forgetting about times when just his presence had made you annoyed. However, before the two of you could have another race on rainbow road, his phone rang. He apologized as he picked it up.

“Hello?” Jungkook answered cheerfully, only for his smile to fall as the person on the line continued. You couldn’t help but mirror his frown as he ran his hand through his hair, his lips pressed together. “Are you sure?” he asked before getting on his feet, looking around the room, the phone still glued to his ear, listening intently as he bit his lip.

When he hung up, he started running around his apartment, ignoring the way you called out his name. Jungkook’s heart felt like it was in his stomach as a sweat started appearing on his hairline, his breaths getting shallower. He couldn’t find his car keys. Where the fuck were his car keys?

He was panicking, he knew it was obvious, and he startled when he felt your fingers around his bicep. “Jungkook, what’s wrong?” you asked carefully, your face screwed in concern. It took him a minute to calm down, to force his breath to return to normal. He should stop looking for his keys and call a cab. He was being a bad host, he should probably tell you why he had to leave but his throat felt like it was closing up, and it was taking all his brain power to not break down in front of you.

“Where do you need to go?” you asked, apparently much more astute than he ever gave you credit for. You grabbed both his shoulders to make him look at you, and he felt a little calmer with your touch, finally speaking one word.

“Hospital,” he said hoarsely and that’s all it took for you to grab your purse from the coffee table and his hand, moving the two of you outside his apartment, leaving behind all your other stuff in a rush to help Jungkook reach his destination.

----------

“Where is she?” Jungkook yelled, his voice echoing around the quiet lobby as he ran towards Jimin, his friend looking stoned faced. His breathing had calmed down, but he was still worried. He had spent the entire car ride biting the inside of his cheek, trying to keep a cool facade in front of you, but he just needed to see her to make everything better. As soon as he could see her, he’d be okay.

Jimin led the two of you to the private wing of the hospital, the elevator ride a little too long for Jungkook’s liking. As soon as he arrived at the door, he pulled it open, ignoring Seokjin and Seungwon who sat on the couch, his eyes lasering in on the body lying in bed. Her eyes were shut, her head heavily bandaged with a tube attached to her nose to support her breathing. He could hear the heartbeat from the monitor as it rang eerily through the room.

You felt out of place, watching Jungkook standing motionlessly next to the woman attached to wires. You wanted to reach out to him, an urge to comfort him running through you. You had barely taken half a step in his direction, when a tall, wide shouldered man stopped you.

“Thank you for bringing him here,” he said politely, his hand raised in front of him. “But I think it’s best if you leave.” Although his tone was not cold, you felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on you. Of course you should leave. You and Jungkook were barely amicable, it seemed awfully presumptuous to think that he would need you to comfort him when he had his friends around him.

“Mom?” Jungkook spoke for the first time, his voice broken, and with a heavy heart you left, not wanting to see him so vulnerable without his explicit consent.

Jungkook could feel his eyes prickling as he held his mother’s hand. She seemed so fragile, her face bruised from the accident. Jimin had informed him that she had been in a car crash over the phone, but he had hoped that she was okay — that she got a few scratches — but the way her skin paled under the fluorescent lights and her shallow breaths puffed through, she looked on the edge of life.

When Seokjin put his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder he couldn’t help himself, turning around to embrace his friend, uncaring how his tears stained his shirt as he sobbed into his shoulder. He felt scared, guilty that the last time he met his mother he had left without saying goodbye.

“Hyung, what if… she dies?” Jungkook spoke his fears out loud, his voice muffled as Seokjin shushed him, hugging him tight. Seokjin was always the person Jungkook pestered, often annoying him and stealing free meals from him, but he was also his closest friend, one that he could always rely on.

“Jungkook, she’s going to be okay. Jimin has his best doctors on it, don’t you, Jimin?” Seokjin said gently, looking over to the blonde in the corner who seemed to be deep in thought. Jimin looked up at the call of his name, making his way over, patting Jungkook’s shoulder softly.

“She’s going to be okay. They put her in an induced coma, she’s just sleeping. She hit her head, but she’s okay,” Jimin reassured, and Jungkook heaved in relief. His mother was ill, but she was going to be okay. He repeated the phrase in his head as Seokjin guided him to the couch, his arms still around him as Jungkook gathered his thoughts, silently crying with his head on the elder’s chest.

He was sipping the water Seungwon got him as his father arrived, his state similar to Jungkook’s ten minutes ago. However, unlike Jungkook, his father didn’t go straight to his wife, making his way to Seungwon who sat next to Jungkook.

“You son of a bitch!” he yelled, grabbing the taller man from his collar and forcing him to his feet. “How fucking dare you?”

Jungkook had never seen his father so uncomposed and as he saw him lift a fist into the air to take an aim at his employee, he sprung into action, holding him back with Seokjin’s help. He knew Seungwon had been driving before the accident, but he didn’t understand why his father was so angry at him just doing his job. It’s not like Seungwon could foresee a drunk driver losing control of their car. However, his father’s next words made everything crystal clear.

“Just because I let you date her doesn’t mean you can kill her, you fucking scum!” he seethed, and Jungkook had never heard such malice before, his eyes widening in shock as he looked at Seungwon, who seemed to take the insults in stride, his face neutral.

“Jaehwa, please calm down,” he pleaded to his friend.

“Calm down? Fuck you,” Jaehwa responded, despite his breathing now significantly more relaxed.

“I’m sorry,” Seungwon responded, his face finally cracking as tears manifested in his eyes. Before Jungkook could realize what was happening, his father wiggled out of his grip and hugged his friend. Seokjin looked at Jungkook confused, but he was equally perplexed at the sudden turn of events.

----------

Seokjin had driven Jungkook home that night, but he couldn’t fall asleep, opting to sit in his kitchen with a drink, staring at the wall, trying to make sense of his parent’s relationship. He knew it wasn’t the best. He had been witness to countless fights over the years, but he was convinced that they were in love. He couldn’t wrap his around the fact his mother was cheating on his father, and that he knew.

He was startled to hear a knock at the door.

“Jungkook, can I come in?” his father asked, as soon as he opened the door. Grabbing another scotch for him, Jungkook made his way to the living room where Jaehwa sat. The two drank in silence for a while, till one glass turned into two which turned into the bottle being brought to the table. His father was the first one to speak.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about it this way,” he said, his voice a little hoarse from not being used in a while. Finally, Jungkook turned his head towards him and noticed the frown on his face, an older rendition of the one on his own face, and though usually he would feel empathetic, pity for the man who raised him, but the defeated expression only made a rage boil inside him. How could he let that happen to him? Let her get away with this? Hug the man who stole her?

“Why are you still with her? She cheated on you, dad!” he exclaimed, not having the foresight to control his volume as Jaehwa winced.

“We separated a long time ago, son,” he admitted quietly, and Jungkook felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He should’ve noticed if his parents were separated, right? Perhaps he was a bad son for never noticing, and the thought made his anger shift from his father towards himself.

“When?”

“As soon as you moved out…”

“Six years ago?” he questioned in disbelief, his mouth hanging open as he stood up, not knowing how to expend the sudden rush of energy in his body other than to start pacing.

“We didn’t want to burden you with it until we had to,” Jaehwa said, a hand reaching out towards his son, but Jungkook just glared in return, not stopping his movements as he strode up and down the room.

“How could you not tell me?” he yelled, “All this time? And she’s with uncle Seungwon?” He was irritated. It felt as if he had walked into some twisted television drama made as fodder for lonely housewives. How could a secret this big be hidden for this long?

“Jungkook… son… she’s happy,” Jaehwa answered with a sad smile, his eyes on how his fingers touched the rim of his glass, swirling a drop of whiskey that stuck to it. He had never seen his father like this: he looked sad, defeated, resigned.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked, the fight in his system giving way to a mourning for the only long term relationship he had known in his life. He sat next to his father, staring intently as he nodded, his lips in a thin line.

“We still love each other, but somewhere along the way, we just couldn’t be together.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If you love someone you fight for them! You don’t give up, dad.” Jungkook was getting frustrated now, his emotions a flurry as he tried to make sense of the bombshell his father had just dropped on him.

“You’re still young, son,” his father chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “Sometimes love’s not enough.”

“That’s not true. You both gave up,” Jungkook retorted stubbornly as his father smiled at his naivety.

“And sometimes that’s for the best,” Jaehwa responded, patting his son on his thigh.

The two talked for an hour after, his father explaining that to him, love meant letting each other be happy, even if it means it’s with someone else. Jungkook accepted the end of his parents’ marriage but even after his father tried to explain his view on love, he could not understand him. Love was for forever. It wasn’t a burning of emotions, he knew that. That was lust. Love was a choice. To Jungkook, love was choosing the person you loved every time, even when it was hard. If someone didn’t love you a hundred percent, then they didn’t love you.

He was hurt, confused, and frustrated at the choices his parents made — choices that he was convinced were wrong. But most of all he was angry. Angry at his parents and furious at Cha Seungwon who paraded around him as a second father, giving him advice and listening to his problems for years while conspiring to ruin his parents’ relationship.

----------

Jungkook: Thank you for driving me yesterday. I appreciate it. I have packed up your stuff. I can drop it off if you’d like. Y/N: Don’t worry about it. I can pick it up. Y/N: I know it’s not my place, but is your mom feeling better? Jungkook: She’s doing well. Thank you. Y/N: I’m glad. What time do you want me to come by? Jungkook: 10pm. I’m sorry if that’s too late. I can drop it off. Y/N: It’s fine. I’ll see you at 10. Jungkook: Thank you.

----------

You stood outside Jungkook’s door, feeling extremely awkward. You knew you had no reason to feel that way, but you wanted to comfort him for some reason. You felt a pull towards him, a need to make him smile. That was probably the reason why you decided to spend three hours today trying to bake him cookies. Your mom always baked you cookies whenever you were upset, and so you decided to do the same for Jungkook. You didn’t even know if he ate gluten, or sugar for that matter, but here you were, standing in front of his door with a plastic container almost overflowing with chocolate chip cookies.

You knew he would be wondering why it was taking you so long to come up despite having been let in by the concierge, so you shook your head to dismiss the weirdness of you trying to start some sort of friendship, and knocked.

Jungkook greeted you with a stoic expression, and you didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes. It had been two days since you’d rushed him to the hospital. Sure, living without your laptop for that long was a nightmare, but you were too busy worrying about this stranger. He had told you his mother was doing well, but you still feared he had lied. Looking at him now, you were starting to be convinced you were correct.

Dressed in baggy sweat pants and an equally baggy black t-shirt, his hair was dishevelled as he invited you in. The living room itself was a stark opposite of what it had been a few days ago. There were half-eaten take-out containers on the table, empty bottles of beer surrounding the couch, which held a blanket and a pillow as if he had been sleeping on it. However, what really caught your eye was the large whiteboard in the middle of the room, decorated in printouts of various games and barely legible notes on said games.

“Jeon, you okay?” you asked apprehensively as Jungkook moved a giant binder that was placed above your backpack. Before he reached for your bag, he snapped his fingers, walking over to the board and scribbling another note on it. You repeated your question and he looked up at you, as if just registering that you were here.

“Yes, I’m fine. Thank you,” he said cordially, and you felt cold. The two of you had never been friends, but you had never been polite either. You had only two moods: passive aggressively egging each other on, or enjoying conversations about games. Sure the latter that had happened only once, but was it weird if you missed that?

this?

You bit your lip, wondering if you should push further, worried about his well being.You ultimately decided against it, opting to join him at the board instead. “You worked on it without me?” you asked.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think you’d want to do it anymore,” he answered, clearly taken aback by your inquiry.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“My hours are crazy right now, so I just assumed.” He trailed off, but he couldn’t help the relief he felt at you wanting to help. He had spent yesterday and today staying with his mother for as long as the hospital allowed, working on his assignments and then spending the whole night working on coming up with a new game.

“Hey, if I get to beat your ass in Mario Kart everyday, I’m completely happy with working at odd hours,” you joked, nudging him, your heart warming at his first uninhibited smile of the night. Taking that as your cue, you settled on the couch, looking over the binder, your eyes widening at the exhaustive research he had done.

He answered your questions and explained as the two of you dove in to discuss the gaming industry as a whole, absorbed in the certain uptick of mobile gamers that seemed to be a lucrative market to catch. It was in the middle of one of his rants on how people never appreciated the work that went into the viral games, that you remembered the cookies you had been fretting over not even fifteen minutes ago.

Reaching over, you picked the container from where you had previously abandoned it, opening the lid to present a cookie to Jungkook, who in turn simply seemed confused.

“Where did you get those?” he questioned, grabbing a cookie and sniffing it as you rolled your eyes.

“I made them. My mom used to bake cookies to cheer me up and so...” you shrugged in explanation. You weren’t sure why you even told him that. Perhaps you didn’t want him to think that you randomly made cookies and carried them everywhere. You watched in anticipation as he lifted it to his mouth, taking a massive bite before his face screwed up in disgust.

“Ew. Did you want to cheer me up or poison me?” he asked, rubbing his tongue on the back of his hand to get rid of the taste.

“What do you mean? These cookies are delicious!” you argued, only just remembering the little detail of never having tasted them in your rush to make them. Taking a cookie you tasted, only to realize that they were salty. Did you mention this was your first time baking? You probably should’ve bought them instead.

Looking at your expression, Jungkook broke out into a laugh, his cackles filling the room and making you pout at him. You truly wanted to do something nice for him, and although your plan had failed, your intention had succeeded as he looked genuinely amused.

In his laughter, Jungkook forgot that the cookie was horrendous, subconsciously taking another bite, before spitting it out. The atmosphere after was light, and by the time you left, Jungkook felt lighter, his mind a little clearer. For the first time in weeks, his to-do list was empty as he fell asleep at a semi decent hour.

The next day, you decided to meet Jungkook at the hospital, taking flowers for his mother, and store-bought cookies for Jungkook. The two of you worked quietly with occasional whispered arguments over what made a game good. It felt natural to be working with him closely, his mind surprising you on more than one occasion. Previously you had assumed that Jungkook wasn’t very smart. Sure, he achieved great grades, but you had assumed it was mostly a result of memorization rather than actual understanding of the material. However, Jungkook was extremely sharp, spouting trends and the psychology of getting someone into a habit of gaming, as if it was general knowledge.

That did not mean he was great all around though.

“I don’t understand what’s wrong,” he said, frowning at the vending machine as he swiped his card once again, only to get rejected once more. “How are you rejecting this, you stupid machine? I’m sure I have money on this,” he whined, kicking the machine.

You tried not to laugh at his antics, knowing full well that a hospital was not going to accept a black card. Did he really think that a lowly machine ever got someone of his caliber using their no-limit, 100 million won minimum monthly spendings card? You let him try a few more times before pulling out your own Visa card and swiping it, the iced coffee tumbling through the machine easily.

“Wait, why did yours work?” he asked, brows furrowed as he stared at the drink in disbelief.

“Jeon, how rich are you?” you asked bemused, enjoying the flush that creeped up his ears at your question.

“I’m not that rich. I mean I’m sure this card should’ve worked.”

“Your card’s too rare for this machine,” you explained, shaking your head in mirth as you paid for your own coffee.

“Oh,” he said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Okay, let me pay you back. Dinner?”

It became routine after that for you to meet him at the hospital to get some work done before grabbing dinner and going back to his place to work some more. In just a week the two of you had planned a whole mobile game, a toned down version of ChampCon, that would have shorter games for beginners and better graphics. Jungkook wanted to make ChampCon more accessible and a mobile version seemed to make a lot of sense.

Along with coming up with what the two of you thought was a brilliant idea, you’d also found an odd comfort with each other in a very short time. Spending every day with each other, you started noticing little habits about Jungkook: the way he would scrunch his nose when he was excited, or poke his tongue inside his cheek when bored or concentrating, or how he had three laughs, a fake one that used whenever you annoyed him but he was too polite to call you out on it, a joyous cackle whenever he figured out a problem after a long time, and a slimy snicker whenever he was trying to get on your nerves.

Jungkook had forgotten completely about writing you off. Whenever you walked into the room, he felt his heart warm. The past week had been one of the toughest of his life. The constant stress of his final few months of school paired with the pressure of the company and his mother still lying unconscious in the hospital bed, it felt as if he was constantly on an adrenaline high. He couldn’t sleep, he barely ate, but with you around for a few hours he was able to block that out. He was unsure why he felt that way, but being in your presence somehow made him able to concentrate on the task at hand.

Most days.

Today, sitting next to you on his couch, he was distracted. Perhaps it was creepy of him to remember the exact outfit you wore when you divulged to your friends you would never date him, but seeing you in that white silk camisole set him back into that moment. Usually the memory would make him angry, but this time it made him melancholic, like colours had dulled, awashed in sepia.

“You okay, Jeon?” Your voice brought him back to the present, and he hummed distractedly.

“Hmm? Yes. Sorry.”

“Come on. What’s on your mind?” you asked, moving from where you were on the floor to the couch next to him, patting his knee. “I’m a good listener,” you chimed.

Jungkook was quiet for a little while, wondering if he should be honest. Looking at your earnest smile made his mind up for him. “Just thinking about that party where we first talked.”

“You mean the one where you rejected me like I was stinky tofu?” You snorted, despite the way the memory made you cringe.

“S-stinky tofu?” Jungkook cackled, his hair falling into his eyes as he sputtered. “I didn’t reject you! You said I was an ‘entitled himbo’ and that you would never date me!” he retorted.

“Well that’s because I wanted to kiss you and you literally ran away,” you said, feeling a little guilty. You pouted, heat rising up your cheeks in embarrassment as you looked away. You hadn't thought Jungkook had heard your drunken little rant, but were you really meant to admit to your new friends that the guy you had a crush on since the first time you saw him in your Contracts class recoiled in disgust at the prospect of kissing you?

Jungkook expected you to come up with an excuse for your mean comments; he wanted to confront you, but he softened as soon as he heard your words, his heart dancing in his chest. He knew you wanted to kiss him, but hearing you admit it made him a little brave. Turning towards you, he brought a hand to your knee, gently calling your name.

When you turned towards him, eyes looking into his, he took a deep breath. Leaning in slowly, he brought his lips to yours, and immediately felt as if he was floating. Your lips were plush, the softest he had ever felt, and it made his cheeks burn. He moved away soon after not deepening the kiss, wanting to treasure the little moment, but you were addicted.

Jungkook had barely moved an inch away when your hand reached his neck, pulling him back in. His eyes widened in shock, but he soon lost himself in you, hands cupping your face as you leaned slightly to the side, your tongue too eager to meet his as he opened his lips. He tasted like the peach jellies the two of you had been sharing earlier, a saccharine warmth that had you running your hands through his hair and bringing your leg over his lap to straddle him.

He pulled you closer, a hand travelling to your lower back and the other resting against your neck where he could feel how your pulse mimicked his. He felt as if he was in a trance, all thoughts tumbling out of his brain to the rhythm of your lips. He whimpered when you pulled his hair, and usually he would overthink it until it became an insecurity but all he could think about was your taste, the sweet cherry of your lip tint searing itself in his mind.

However, when you moved your hips he realized how turned on he was, a garbled moan escaping his lips into your mouth as he broke out from under your spell, his brain overloading with his usual self-conscious diatribe. Panting under you as you suckled on the skin of his neck in a way that made him whine, his mind played every way you would reject him when he told you the truth. He wasn’t embarrassed about it, but he knew how people worked. You expected the Jungkook that people knew, a heartbreaker, a sex god. How could he expect for you to stay for the bumbling virgin?

He felt his confidence plummet. According to his friends, porn, and every song and rom com ever he was supposed to take charge. Fuck you in a way that would blow your mind. He was the man, it was his job. He was meant to throw you down to the couch and make you cum, but the closest he had ever gotten to a woman was feeling some tits in second year of undergrad on a dare.

Suddenly Jungkook felt small, and you noticed the way he tensed under you. Lifting your face from his neck, you tried to catch your breath as you asked him, “What’s wrong?”

“I h-h-have to t-tell you s-s-something,” he whispered, his skin feeling as if it wanted to flee his body. He couldn’t believe his eighth grade stutter was back. He felt anxious, his heart pounded but when you looked at him in concern, your thumbs slowly tracing his cheekbones as you cupped his face, he felt safe. His mind was at odds. At one hand, he trusted you and felt comfortable around you, but on the other, he didn’t know if he could handle getting rejected while you sat on his extremely hard dick. It also didn’t help that his crush from 2 years ago had resurfaced in full force, playing a montage of every moment he had laid his eyes on you in supercut.

“Virgin,” he blurted, the chorus in his head spilling onto his tongue, his tone making the word sound more like a question than a statement. As soon as he said it, his face turned bright red. He was sure it could be seen from space the way it was glowing. He expected you to recoil in disgust or even pity him, but instead you giggled, one of your hands moving away from his face to cover yours.

He didn’t think about you laughing at him, but it definitely hurt more than the scenarios he had made up. He wanted to push you away, stand up and lock himself in his bedroom till you found enough sense to leave his apartment, but he was frozen.

When you composed yourself, you kissed his cheek, smiling at how warm it was under your lips. You couldn’t believe how ridiculous it was that Seoul’s reputed casanova was a virgin. If someone told you Jungkook was a virgin, you would have never believed them, but looking at the stuttering, flustered man below you, it endeared you. It made you want to protect him.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, hugging him reassuringly, and Jungkook felt like he was going to cry. He was sure it was because of lack of sleep and in no way because of how warm he felt at your words, the hurt quickly melting away. Quietly, he hugged you back, holding you tightly and nuzzling into you, as if on instinct. You let him, slowly stroking his hair, combing the soft strands as you felt your blood fizzing. You kissed him gently on the cheek again, melting at the way he scrunched his nose at that.

Jungkook felt fuzzy under your affections, opening up to you about wanting to save himself for true love, someone who he was fated to be with. Your cynical mind wouldn’t let you believe the same, but his sincerity made you optimistic. When he told you that maybe he was stupid for waiting, you squeezed his hand in yours, moving to sit next to him. You curled your arms around him, resting your head on his chest, feeling oddly calm despite your heated makeout session earlier.

He hugged you back, feeling the sugar high. He had barely gotten used to your arms around him when you were pulling away, but before he could mourn the loss of your warmth, you were smiling at him, your words making him grin coyly.

“Wanna go on a date tomorrow?”

----------

Y/N: I cannot believe you’re a belieber!! Jungkook: his songs are romantic! Y/N: I’m really reconsidering going on a second date with you Jungkook: come on! give him a chance!!! Jungkook sent a video Y/N: You sing??? Jungkook: i know i’m perfect don’t fall in love 😏 Y/N: Too late. Jungkook: you kiss a girl two times and she gets clingy istg Y/N: I wasn’t the one whimpering when we kissed Jungkook: yes you were Y/N: Sure 🙄 Jungkook: we’ll see in two hours tiger 😴

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Y/N: What did you get for 28? Jungkook: c Y/N: I’m pretty sure that’s wrong Jungkook: come over and show me what’s right Y/N: That’s the worst pick up line you’ve used yet Jungkook: and you’re still coming over Y/N: Don’t test me Jeon Jungkook: please 🥺 Y/N: Fuck you Jungkook: all in due time, beautiful 😏 Y/N: OMG. I’m coming over only to beat your ass Jungkook: worth it 😍

----------

Jungkook: thanks for helping me out again Y/N: Stop thanking me Jungkook: just feel like im taking up all your free time and im sorry if you feel pressured to help me Y/N: Jungkook I want to help you. I’m having fun! Jungkook: just thank you Y/N: STOP 😭 Jungkook: ok sorry sorry Y/N: And stop apologizing too Jungkook: im happy we met Y/N: me too

----------

It took a week and a half for the doctors to wake Jungkook’s mother back up, her traumatic brain injury taking longer than usual to heal. The doctors all told him and his father that she may not remember certain events, and might even have some mental delays. The night before she woke up, you visited Jungkook as usual and kissed him to distract him.

When he fell asleep mid rant about how excited he was to beat Saga Games with your new project, you chuckled. Worried for his back, you woke him to move him to his bed, where he held your hand and asked you to stay. Although you were usually guarded, not wanting to get involved with someone too quickly, you were climbing in next to him in a heartbeat, relishing the way his arms wrapped around you as he buried his face in your neck, dozing off quickly.

Jungkook’s mother didn't wake up when the doctors said she would, so he waited with his father and Seungwon in the room, while you held his hand. It helped calm Jungkook down every time he wanted to lash out at Seungwon for holding his mother’s hand, crocodile tears in his eyes.

The four of you stayed in the room, Seungwon on a chair next to Kyungsoo, while Jaehwa worked on his laptop on the couch, next to Jungkook and you, the former staring into space blankly, while occasionally squeezing your hand that was sweating in his. He watched the window, counting the leaves on the tree branch that blocked the view of the parking lot, forcing his mind to stop racing with worst case scenarios. By the time the sky faded from blue to pink to an inky black, he knew there were one hundred and twenty seven little leaves, because he had counted them at least eight times.

“Dear?” his mother croaked, her hand squeezing Seungwon’s and it was like the quiet of the room had suddenly exploded, the men rushing to check on the patient. Before Jungkook or his father could reach Kyungsoo, she was pulling Seungwon to her, kissing him gently as he sobbed.

Jungkook’s steps faltered at the display, and he felt an odd jealousy that the first person she saw was his secretary. He knew he was her boyfriend but the bitterness was hard to swallow. He called out to her gently, her eyes landing on him, and Jungkook couldn’t control tearing up at how fragile his mother looked.

He hesitated a little when she opened her arms for a hug, afraid that he would crush her, but the moment he was in her embrace he couldn’t help holding onto her tightly, relief flooding through his body. He held on till Kyungsoo chuckled, patting her son on the head affectionately.

You felt odd being in the middle of the family affair, his father soon joining the embrace. You wanted to leave, feeling out of place, but when Jungkook sat by his mother’s side, he brought a chair next to him for you, holding your hand as he talked to her. Your heart warmed whenever he squeezed your hand, reminding you that he wanted you there. Was this too fast for the three official dates you had gone on? Probably, but it felt right.

Despite your mind reminding you that you were imposing on a private matter, your heart won. Over the past few weeks, your crush on Jungkook had not only reignited, but the embers had turned into a forest fire. It felt strange not seeing him everyday, your text threads never ending. Although the two of you still bickered, it was now laced with an underlying tension, that most time resulted in you shutting each other up with kisses.

Kissing Jungkook felt natural. What started as a heated makeout had turned into celebratory kisses after solving a problem you were stuck on, turned into pecks when saying hello, and yearnful groping when saying goodbye. It had barely been a fortnight, yet you felt as if you could kiss him forever.

With his mind sated about his mother’s wellbeing, Jungkook felt a little more himself, less tumultuous, which gave him plenty of time to overthink about the fact that he had barely been dating you for two weeks and he had somehow dragged you to something much more daunting than meeting the parents. When the realization hit, all Jungkook could do was subtly escape, taking you with him to the hallway, his heart on his sleeve.

“I’m so sorry,” he rushed out as soon as the door was closed, his eyes panicked as they looked at your alarmed face. “I’m sorry I dragged you here. It was so stupid, you must think i’m so clingy and weird and — oh my god, I’m such a loser!”

“Jungkook, hey. Don’t be sorry,” you said, grabbing his wrist to pull it away from where he kept running it through his hair. His shoulders sagged at your words as he let out a breath he seemed to be holding. Moving closer, you wrapped your arms around him, and he immediately returned your embrace. “I’m glad you trust me enough to bring me here,” you whispered, his grip tightening around you in response.

“Thank you,” he replied, inhaling your scent, and feeling at ease. It felt as if everything in his life was falling in place, that for the first time in his existence he could rest. He didn’t feel anxious about taking over the company, he didn’t feel insecure about being written off, he just felt at peace. Could he really live in the moment now? Was that something he could give himself now?

“Hey kid, you’re gonna stand here or gonna tell your mom her favourite son is here?” Yoongi grumbled playfully, and when Jungkook looked up he saw his friends there, holding flowers, candy, and fruit. He was surprised the hospital had let them through. But then again, heading the group was Jimin, arms full of a teddy bear that was probably as tall as him. Even Namjoon had showed up, looking a little worse for wear, dark circles under his hollow eyes, but smiling nevertheless.

Jungkook’s mom beamed when the group of ten entered in a flurry of celebration. Jimin, being the loudest as usual, ran up to her screaming “Eomma!”, followed by Taehyung, both of them hugging her. The older ones, Yoongi and his wife, and Seokjin were more composed, handing her the flowers, Seokjin making the cheesy joke about her being Jungkook’s sister - a joke he’d made since the day he first met her. Candy immediately scoffed at them, moving the flowers away to hug her tight, having seen her the first time since her time abroad. Namjoon was more reserved but his well wishes still touched her heart.

It felt like a reunion of sorts, and despite Hoseok still being in the States, Seokjin had him on Facetime, in all his sleepy glory. Their group hadn’t all been together for so long, that Jungkook felt a little misty eyed. Despite everyone being in such different places in their lives, and despite the circumstances, it felt right that everyone was here at this moment. He reached for your hand, squeezing your fingers when he introduced you to his childhood friends, not missing the way Candy finally broke out of the stupor she had been in since Hoseok’s call, and raised an eyebrow in amusement.

Jungkook was finally at ease.

----------

The door bell was loud and obnoxious, startling Jungkook awake. He groaned, rolling out of bed at the insistent noise, eyes barely opened and padded towards the front door. All sleep disappeared when he saw you standing in the hallway, a colourful paper hat on your head, and a coffee and cupcake in your hands, a sparkler glittering on the tiny cake.

“Happy birthday, Jeon,” you smiled at him, a brilliant grin that always made his heart skip. His nose scrunched in response as he returned your smile, grabbing the coffee and replacing it with his hand. He dragged you to the kitchen, impatiently excited, giggling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but coo at his actions as he quickly took the cupcake from you, placing it on the counter.

Before you could say anything, he was kissing you, hands cupping your face gently as he continuously pecked your lips. If someone had told him last year that on his next birthday he would be kissing the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, he would’ve laughed in their faces, but with your lips on his, he couldn’t think of anything that seemed more fated.

His hands travelled down your sides, and when they reached your butt, he picked you up, placing you on the counter gently before looping his arms around your waist and pulling you to his chest. His eyes were shining when you separated, a toothy grin on his face that made him oddly look like a little rabbit. Grabbing the cupcake, you brought it between the two of you, picking out the now dead sparkler and replacing it with a candle from your hoodie pocket, lighting it quickly.

“Make a wish,” you said, expecting Jungkook to close his eyes and do so. Instead he looked straight at you, blowing out the candle before plucking it out, messily taking a big bite of the chocolate cupcake with frosting adorning his lips.

“I already got my wish,” he said, kissing you once again, tasting of chocolate and adoration.

----------

It seemed surreal, walking from the car to the docks, where a small boat awaited to take you to the extravagant yacht. When you asked Jungkook out for a date, a month and half ago, you wouldn’t have imagined that you would be going to a party where actual paparazzi roamed at the entrance.

For being one of the richest men in Korea, Jungkook never acted that way. Sure, he may live in a wildly secure gated community with actual celebrities as neighbours, and his watch probably cost more than your car, but Jungkook never flaunted his wealth, and so you often forgot. Playing video games over a bowl of 300 won ramen and arguing over who won only to devolve into tickles and kisses were how you knew Jungkook, not the man photographed by the media in tailored Armani suits and sports cars. It was a bit jarring seeing the extent of his wealth, especially when you finally climbed aboard the yacht.

The boat was akin to a hotel on sea, the deck lit up brilliantly with chandeliers that seemed to float as a live jazz band performed on stage. Servers walked around guests dressed in the latest runway fashion, an eclectic mix of people from vastly different age groups but exceedingly similar income brackets. You felt out of place, dressed in a little black dress from Zara, akin to a coal dropped among diamonds.

You grabbed a flute of champagne, scanning the floor for the birthday boy, and unsurprisingly finding him surrounded by his friends. You had seen him only a few hours before, but you felt butterflies return as soon as your eyes met his. Jungkook was the first man you had ever felt that way with, like he was a childhood fantasy personified, making your palms sweat and your heart somersault. You weren’t someone who fell for people quickly, but it seemed as if two years of pining had snowballed into a yearning that never seemed to be satiated.

When Jungkook met your eyes, he forgot where he was, music and Seokjin’s half baked jokes fading into the background just like the movies as he made his way to you. “You came,” he said softly when he reached you, somewhat dazed by how beautiful you looked. He couldn’t help the blush that made its way over his cheeks as you smiled at him.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you asked, just as his arms circled you, making your breath hitch a little. Jungkook smirked at your subtle inhale, enjoying the effect he had on you. He still couldn’t believe that somehow in such a short time he had found someone that made him feel supported. Jungkook hadn’t truly realized how alone he felt in the past twenty three years of his life. People often say you have to know sadness to know happiness, but he hadn’t realized that you have to know companionship to know loneliness, and he never knew how lonely he was before he met you — a little boat floating on a never-ending still ocean.

Although celebrations were in full swing, he couldn’t focus on guests, mingling with them a chore he’d rather escape. And so about an hour after your arrival, he decided to do just that.

Your hand in his and champagne bubbles in his head, he led you to below deck, where the rooms were. It felt a little funny, a weird parallel to how his friends would run away to smelly frat rooms during a party in undergrad, but he felt giddy almost running through the decadently decorated hallways, trying rooms till he found an open one, your giggles a soundtrack to the moment.

“You can’t just run away from your own party, silly boy,” you joked as he pulled you into the room, locking the door and walking backwards to the bed, dragging you along with a grin.

“Can’t help it. You look too pretty,” he said with a giggle, sitting down and pulling you to him, hands on your waist as you stood between his legs.

“You’re just horny,” you snorted, an eye roll on the ready.

“Yes, I am,” he exclaimed jovially, falling back onto the bed, his hands behind his head, eyes closed. You laughed at his silly mood, more than a little turned on by his blatant admission. Over the last month, the two of you had been getting close. By now you had his taste memorized, and you craved his lavender vanilla scent throughout the day, but you still felt a little hesitant to move things forward physically.

Jungkook was romantic. The kind of romantic who would send you karaoke covers of love songs, who would pick a flower from the neighbour’s garden to put in your hair, who would hide silly post-it notes in your books and laptop just to make you smile. Before Jungkook, you hadn’t known romance. You had written it off as a fantasy devised by the media to sell movies and dramas, unattainable and unrealistic. Your previous experiences were proof enough, cheating boyfriends and one night stands the norm in your dating life.

He opened his eyes when you didn’t respond with your usual quips, finding you still staring at him, worrying your lip. He faltered a little, but refused to let the liquid courage die down, reaching to grab your hand, interlacing your fingers.

“Aren’t you gonna come get me, Tiger?” he asked, lips upturned in a smirk as he pulled you towards him, making you fall on top of him. He laughed at your horrified gasp, hugging you tight and kissing the top of your head as you relaxed. “Why are you worried?”

“Why aren’t you?” you countered, finding this sexually confident Jungkook a little jarring. You could hear his steady heartbeat from where your head rested on his chest, a change from the usual nervous pounding.

“Because it's you,” he said softly, lifting your head gently to look at you, eyes shining with adoration. “You make me brave,” he said. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones as he cupped your face, his lips meeting yours, and you felt as if you would explode.

You kissed him back as his arms circled your lower back, pulling you higher up on him. You felt at ease, and because he made you brave too, you straddled him, your knees on the bed next to his hips as his hands trailed to your thighs, gripping the flesh and massaging it slowly.

Much like every time you kissed Jungkook, you were soon breathless, not wanting to ever stop as his tongue wrestled yours. When you bit his lip teasingly, he whined, his hips moving up to start grinding into yours, your dress now hiked up almost to your waist.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, pulling away as he chased your lips with a scowl. You pinned him to the bed, hands on his shoulders as you laughed. “You whimpered first!”

“Are we still playing that stupid game?” he asked, rolling his eyes, laughing as you gleefully nodded. Jungkook knew why you were stalling. You always did it when things got too hot and heavy, giving him an easy out with jokes, afraid to make him uncomfortable, but Jungkook didn’t want an out now.

He had spent his whole life searching for a soulmate, and nothing else explained the connection he felt with you. You had quite literally crashed into his life, challenged him for two years, and then somehow helped him when he needed it the most. Maybe it was too soon to tell, but he didn’t care. He had never felt this way around anyone, not even Candy who he was convinced he was in love with. But seeing Candy didn’t feel like this. Like he could finally breathe, like he was in a meadow surrounded by jasmine and lilies, or in a cocoon wrapped up snugly.

Smiling widely, he flipped you over, hands next to your head as he looked down on you. “My turn,” he said with a chuckle, swiftly attaching his mouth to your neck, where he knew you were especially sensitive. He suckled the skin, caressing it with his tongue, and coaxing the breathy moans he loved so much.

You called his name and he looked up, not being able to resist tasting your lips again. In every other instance in his life when he had gotten close to having sex, he felt insecure, felt this intense pressure to perform, but right now he felt safe. Perhaps it was the alcohol confusing his emotions, but he was certain that it was you, your presence a shelter from the storm.

“Be my girlfriend,” he said, now leaning on his forearms, his nose nuzzling yours, and for the first time, you didn’t have a witty remark. Nodding wildly, you wrapped your arms around him, kissing him once again, your lips fervent as you lost yourself in him. Eager kisses led to even more eager undressing as you rid him of his shirt, running your hands up and down his chiseled abdomen.

“Lie back,” you whispered, pushing at his chest till he fell back on the bed. You were on him immediately, kissing down his jaw to his neck to his chest, leaving a little trail of love bites that made him keen.

You giggled at the sound he made as your lips circled his nipple. He was sensitive and you couldn’t wait to unravel him, proud of being the first one he had trusted to be this vulnerable with. “I thought you were all smug now, Jeon?” you asked with a grin as you looked up at him, his eyes darkened and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“I -” he began, only to break into a whine when you playfully brought your teeth into the mix, the feeling shooting from his nipple straight to his dick. He panted, trying to collect his scrambling thoughts but all he could was plead, face flushed as he closed his eyes. “Please Y/N… Please.”

Jungkook was about to lose his mind. No, scratch that. Jungkook was about to lose his load, as your lips moved lower on his body. He felt already on edge and you had barely unbuttoned his pants. His hips moved without instructions as you pulled his pants off, the material of them and his boxers stuck mid thigh. He wanted to shimmy them off, but you were too impatient, and he was too powerless to protest as you licked a strip up his length.

His legs twitched at the action, his core tightening as he felt an ache in his balls. Your mouth encased him and his breath hitched at the way your tongue continued to lap at his dick when you moved your head up and down. He was going to cum within thirty seconds if you kept that up, and despite his warnings you continued, winking up at him when he told you he was close.

“Wanna taste you, Koo,” you said, your voice raspy, before you took him deeper. His hips rose of their accord, matching the way you bobbed on him, and it was with a high pitched cry that he came. You relished his taste, the bittersweet salt coating your taste buds as you swallowed him, continuing your ministrations till he was mewling, hand pulling at your hair.

“Happy birthday,” you said as Jungkook panted, his breaths heavy and inconsistent. He never knew an orgasm could feel this good. Is this what it was like being with someone? Did it always feel like galaxies exploding in his chest, or was it you?

He turned his head to see you lying next to him, both hands under your head as you smiled softly at him, and he couldn’t help returning it just as tenderly. He lifted his hand to push a strand of your hair behind your hair before leaning in and kissing you gently. When his tongue met yours, he could taste himself, something he thought would be repulsive but only ignited more lust within him.

Before he could stop himself, he was on you, his hands undoing your zipper deftly and pulling the dress off your body. Seeing you in just your underwear below him made him almost short circuit, stalling his movements as he forgot what he was even trying to do.

“What’s wrong?” you asked shyly, a little taken aback by how he was staring, mouth agape.

“So pretty,” he whispered in awe, eyes roaming your body as he sat on his heels next to you. You couldn't help but chuckle at his reverence, reaching behind you to undo your bra and tossing it on the floor, before doing the same with your panties. The sound that Jungkook made at your actions could only be described as needy but he still didn’t move, just looking at you, unsure of how to proceed.

Sitting up, you brought his lips to yours, guiding his hand to your chest. You sighed when he hesitantly rolled a nipple between his fingers, repeating the action again and again. Paired with his eager kisses, you were soon dripping. The two of you were on your knees, his arms now winding around you and moving lower.

The more Jungkook kissed you, the more natural it felt to be doing this with you. He hadalways been saving himself for the right person, and now he was grateful he had waited for you to find him. His lips moved from your lips to your chest, engulfing a nipple in his mouth, copying the way you had sucked and ran your tongue over his, grinning when you mewled, your hands tugging at his hair. Maybe he didn’t have to be terrible at his first time, he thought, and it gave him the confidence to move his tattooed hand between your legs.

He nipped at your chest, groaning when he felt how wet you were, and all he wanted to do was to taste you, make you feel as good as you made him feel.

“C-can I try to…” he trailed off, looking at you as you cupped his face. You nodded, and Jungkook pushed you to the bed, a little too aggressively, causing you to wince in response. He apologized, kissing you once again before moving between your legs, and settling on his stomach.

Fuck, is that what you smelt like? He was going to get addicted, he knew it as soon as he inhaled your musky scent, and when he started licking at your folds tentatively, he knew he had found his favourite flavour.

Your hips jolted when he immediately entered you with his tongue, lapping at you quickly as if on a mission to devour you. He kept up his pace and you moaned, hands gripping the sheets. It felt so good, but he kept avoiding your clit and you felt as if you were on the edge, your mind blank, only his name flowing from your tongue.

Hearing his name, he moved further down, his tongue fucking into you as his lips pulled your labia, making you lose your mind. You couldn’t take it anymore; you needed to cum, you needed him to touch your clit so you could fall apart before you cried. Pulling his hair, you pleaded, and he continued his actions.

“Baby… please! More! Please!” you exclaimed, and when he refused to change his technique, your hips started rolling against his face. He moaned loudly, his arms wrapping around your legs as he let you use him. With the friction of his nose rubbing on your clit, you finally unravelled, screaming affirmations for your new boyfriend as he continued to lap at you.

You pulled him away, shuddering, whimpering expletives, and he grinned when he kissed you. Jungkook knew he wanted to make you cum, but he didn’t know how fucking hot the image of you shaking in his arms would be.

“I give you the best head I have ever given and you edge me?” you said breathlessly, brushing your hair off your face where it was plastered in sweat. “You’re such a tease!”

“I didn’t edge you!” Jungkook protested, his indignance not visible under how brightly he was smiling, still giddy over making you into a fucked out mess. In all honesty, Jungkook had no idea he was edging you. He had just followed what he had seen in porn, but he was definitely going to remember that for next time.

Still on top of you, he nuzzled into your neck and you couldn’t help but giggle, stroking his hair.

“You okay?” you asked, your heart blooming when he laid beside you, pulling you to his chest.

“Better than okay,” he replied, kissing the top of your head. “Happy. Ecstatic! Euphoric!” he yelled, his arms tight around you, and you burst out laughing, your lips pressed to his collarbone.

“You are a dork,” you said gleefully.

“No, I’m your boyfriend,” he countered, giggling with excitement, before he simmered, his lips meeting yours gently. He wanted more, so much more. Wanted to sink into you, make you fall apart on his dick, and he could feel himself getting hard again just at the thought.

However, your calm moment was interrupted by his phone ringing. Groaning, he separated from you, answering to his father asking him where he was. He dressed quickly, pulling up his pants and shyly turning away when you helped him with his shirt, buttoning it much slower than when you had unbuttoned it.

“It’s probably something stupid, like meeting someone,” he rolled his eyes, watching you pick up your bra from the ground, but before you could put it on, he grabbed it, biting his lip and looking at you mischeviously. “Stay naked,” he whispered.

“Jeon!” you exclaimed, a little bashful at his forward demand.

“Come on! Please?” he asked, his eyes big as he pouted at you, trying to act cute as he pushed you back onto the bed, pulling the covers over you. You rolled your eyes at his antics as he kissed you again, hungry and desperate, making you moan at the way his tongue met yours.

“I still have to lose my virginity,” he said with a wink as he left a few more kisses before leaving, you shaking your head in faux disappointment. In reality, you were on cloud nine, turned on beyond belief for how the night would unravel.

----------

Jungkook whistled as he made his way to the top deck, eyes peeled for his father. He felt as if nothing could break him, elated with anticipation and impatient to join you back in the room. A goofy grin seemed to plastered on his face as he recalled the way you looked flushed from the orgasm he had given to you. Jungkook’s ego was sky high; maybe he was the sex god everyone thought he was after all. He giggled to himself at the thought.

“Hey Jungkook!” a raspy voice called out to him, and he turned around to see Yoongi walking over to him with long determined steps, a scowl adorned on his face. “Where’s Tiger?” he asked coldly, a contrast to how he usually babied his youngest friend, but Jungkook was too in his head to decipher the tone.

“You mean my girlfriend?” he said smugly, his nose scrunching as he tried to keep the dopey smile off his face. It was easier when he saw the way Yoongi’s face fell, immediately concerned for his friend. “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi sighed, hugging Jungkook as he tried to not recoil in shock. Yoongi never hugged anyone first, unless something was wrong. He worriedly scanned the room, scared that his mother would be hurt once again, anxiety clawing at his nerves.

He relaxed a little when his eyes landed on her, safe and laughing with his father. Not knowing what could be wrong, he repeated his question, only for Yoongi to let him go and look at him with a sad smile.

“She used you, Jungkook,” Yoongi said with another sigh, and Jungkook’s confusion only grew.

“Who?” he asked, brows furrowed as he took the phone his older friend handed to him.

He felt his blood run cold as he looked at the screen, heart shattering as if someone took a hammer to it. No, not shattering. It felt as if it had been ripped from his chest and put in a blender. He could feel his pulse in his ears as the screen in front of him turned blurry.

He didn’t realize he was crying till a teardrop landed on Yoongi’s phone, magnifying your handle as if to mock him.

Renowned Youtuber Y/N Y/L/N callmetiger95 Appointed Lead Strategist of Saga Games.

Maybe everyone was right after all. Soulmates weren’t real, love was a sham, and Jeon Jungkook was an idiot.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

taglist- @ressjeon, @joonights, @mwitsmejk, @daggerbeneathmygown, @moonchild1, @drumsofheaven, @thisartemisnevermisses, @kaepjjangiya, @bbydoejk, @emsuzz, @crewzie-chan, @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @agustdjoon, @codeinebelle, @hobiandsprite

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #ficscafe #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts x reader #bts fanfic #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #bangtanuniversity #btsnoonanet #bts scenarios #purplearmynet #52hertz

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loserrking · 2 years

Text

Flower girl — by valen-tyne-ghost

Mirabel x Ghost!Fem!Reader

Navigation — Masterlist

Warnings/Tags : random change from 3rd pov to 2nd pov at the end, Dead character, mentions of blood, mentions of dying..

A/N : Hey bae, it's time for your daily dose of angst

Love...

That word brought a bitter taste to Mirabel's tongue everytime someone would say it. It was something the girl had tried to avoid for the past few years, only ever speaking of it to share her distaste of romance.. Mirabel swore to never fall in love, as it would only hurt her... But... There was one girl who had managed to tear down those walls to see what was behind it... and behind it was a fragile girl who craved love and affection but was far too afraid to get abandoned or hurt.

She teared those walls down with such ease that not even a parachute could've stopped Mirabel from falling....

....The girl's name was (Name) but Mira liked to call her Flower girl.. She had beautiful, soft hair and a pretty smile, but the most eye-catching detail about her were the (favoritecolor) flowers covering her eyes as red liquid trickled down her face. Mirabel was young when she met (Name), it was after her failed ceremony that flower girl suddenly showed up..

They hung out everyday, (Name) was Mirabel's only friend and so she cherished her dearly, but what started as platonic affection bloomed into something more.. It felt like Mirabel couldn't last one minute near (Name) without her face going hot and her palms start getting sweaty as she stutters out incoherent sentences...

The colombian girl kept her feelings a secret for months until on one occasion, she accidentally blurted it out... Flower girl confessed her own feelings and well, it all blossomed from there..

Mirabel felt absolute bliss— but something still felt... Wrong, she had started to take noticed of how everyone seemed to ignore (Name's) existence, or how people gave her weird looks whenever she spoke to her in public.. It was all so peculiar. Maybe she was overthinking all of this...

Mirabel continued to ignore the suspicion and curiosity bubbling in her... It wasn't until (Name) stopped showing up that she actually thought about everything. She pushed the feeling down further and decided to just go look for you... Three days pass and the girl Mira loved oh so dearly was still gone and Mirabel was desperate to find you, going as far as telling her parents to help look for you.. Julieta gave her daughter a concerned look.

"Mira, I think its time we talked about your... Imaginary girlfriend" Her mother spoke hesitantly

"what..?" Confusion was evident in Mirabel's voice.. Imaginary? What did she mean by that?

"Hun, I know you're lonely but please just let this girlfriend of yours go, she's not real"

Mirabel couldn't believe this, how could her parents say that? (Name) was real and she'll prove it.. She took off running into the forest with hot tears streaming down her face, Mira's mother yelled for her but it was no use...

She didn't wanna believe her mother's words because you are real! She knows it...!

Mirabel reluctantly stopped running to take a break, she sat down near a tree and leaned against it... Tears still decorated her eyes and cheeks, it didn't take long before Mirabel turned into a sobbing mess.

"Mira..?"

Her head turned to the direction of the voice.. your voice... And there you were, leaning against a tree with a gentle smile.

Mirabel was in shock so you took it upon yourself to approach her. You sat beside Mirabel..

"W-where have you been?" She enveloped you in an embrace, sobbing into your shoulder..

"I've been getting ready to move on to the after life, after I get things sorted out I'll be in peace" You placed a hand on the side of her face and began to wipe away the tears with your thumb "I won't be able to see or talk to you again" You added with a heavy sigh

"What?"

"Mira, I'm dead.. I've been dead for a long time now.." She froze at your statement "I'm not alive, mi amour... I'm a ghost"

"...."

"I truly am sorry for not telling you sooner.. but you were so happy.."

"B-but.. You can't leave! What about our promise!? You said we'd get married one day!" Mirabel's breathing became uneven and her cries became louder, she couldn't lose you!

"I'm sorry Mirabel, but this is just how things are... Maybe in another life, I love you" You leaned in for one last kiss, she gripped your hand tightly in hopes that if she holds onto you tight enough, you'll stay, but alas... You vanished only leaving a few bloodstained flowers... And Mirabel had lost you...

Taglist : @ashktchup

#Val's fics #Valen can write #mirabel x reader #mirabel x you #mirabel x y/n #encanto mirabel #mirabel madrigal #encanto #encanto x you #encanto x reader #tw mentions of blood #tw mentions of death #tw angst #i cried making this #ghost reader

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bambinella · 2 years

Text

Nightmares

A/N: next chapter was a request for @the-widow-sisters, I’m sorry it took so long! I had fun writing this! Enjoy your daily dose of angst and fluff!

Warnings: angst and fluff

Natasha awoke with a gasp, her eyes wide as she sat up in her bed, instinctively reaching out for the gun under her pillow. It only took her a few seconds to realize there was nobody standing next to her with a gun pointed at her head, and she let out a relieved sigh. In her life Natasha had been plagued by many nightmares of her past. Nightmares of the Red Room, of all of her victims over the many years, even about her sister. However, there was one particular nightmare that tormented her more than any of the others. Antiona Dreykov.

Ever since her mission to explode the building with both Dreykovs inside, her stomach had been twisted by guilt. The knowledge of detonating a bomb in the face of an innocent young girl was more than the infamous Black Widow could handle. While she discovered years later that neither of them had died during the explosion, and even managed to apologize to Antonia, her guilt remained. And the nightmare kept returning, always ending with the Taskmaster aiming a gun at Natasha’s face and killing her.

Her hand reached out next to her on the bed, only to pat an empty area. Yelena was still out on her two-day mission, and the fact slapped Natasha right in the face. She truly wished for her sister to be there right there and now. The redhead was used to panic attacks by many experiences before, so she turned on her side and focused on her breathing, letting the tears roll off her cheeks as she drifted into sleep once more. One more day until her sister would return.

When Yelena returned home the next day, she immediately noticed something was amiss when she hugged her sister. Something about Natasha’s expression was off, and her hug was even tighter than usual. Deciding not to mention it in the first five minutes of her return, the blonde kept a close eye on her sister, to see if the redhead would make the first move. When she noticed Natasha daydreaming much more than usual and her jaw clenched, and way more silent than usual, the younger sister decided she needed a small push. So, she wordlessly stood up from the couch and beelined towards the redhead, slightly startling her in the process. Yelena took her hand and, while Natasha looked at her with question marks in her eyes, she followed without question. Both of them went to their bedroom and sat down cross legged, just like they had done so many months ago after their reunion.

“What’s going on? Something is going on, I can clearly see it,” Yelena said, gently urging her on.

Natasha bit her lip and looked down, almost looking ashamed for being caught about something. When she kept silent, Yelena reached out and gently cupped her chin, making her look into a set of warm brown eyes.

“Talk to me, sestra, I’m here,” The blonde said, using her other hand to place it on her cheek. This caused Natasha to close her eyes, her lip quivering. After a moment of silence, and some deep inhales, the redhead leaned into her hand and opened her eyes.

“I’ve been having a nightmare about the most shameful thing I’ve ever done, and it keeps following me even after all these years,” She started, carefully looking at her sister’s face. When Yelena simply nodded as a sign to move on, she took another deep breath.

“It’s about Antiona Dreykov,” Natasha said, causing Yelena’s face to tighten up immediately. She should have known it would haunt her, knowing that Natasha carried her guilt with her. She pulled Natasha closer for a hug, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as she rubbed a hand up and down her back. Natasha immediately answered the hug, letting out a shaky breath.

“I should have never used her to get to that piece of trash,” The redhead muttered, letting out her emotions now that her sister was here. “I shouldn’t have given the order to explode the bomb, I knew she was innocent and I know you hate me for it,” Natasha went on, before Yelena shook her shoulders.

“Stop it. Stop doing that to yourself, you can’t undo the past,” The blonde said, her voice stern but her eyes soft and full of emotion. She knew exactly what Natasha was going through, and she had to pull her out of this downward spiral as quickly as possible.

“Look, we all made mistakes and we all did things we wish we could undo,” Yelena continued, once more cupping her chin as she looked into her green eyes. “Well we can’t. We can only move on and learn from them, to prevent ourselves from making the same mistake again,”

“Besides, I don’t hate you for it,” The blonde added with a scolding frown, causing Natasha to blink in surprise.

“But… when we were hiding in the metro station, you said-,” The redhead started, causing Yelena to roll her eyes as she pulled Natasha close.

“I was trying to be tough and acted like a brat, I would never hate you for that,” She said, causing Natasha to let out a relieved sigh, her shoulders slightly shaking.

“And hey, you managed to get Antonia out of the mind control thingy, finally freeing her from Dreykov, I’d say that’s the first step of making up to her, if it makes you feel better,” Yelena said with a smile. Natasha thought about it for a moment, before nodding with a slight smile herself.

She scooted towards her sister, settling between her legs as she let Yelena be the big spoon for once. The blonde wrapped her arms around her shoulders and gently rocked her, placing a kiss on the back of her neck.

“When did you become so wise,” Natasha asked, her voice lighter and more playful than before, causing Yelena to smile and huff.

“I’ve always been this wise, you were just too busy with all your posing to notice it,” She teased, yelping when Natasha squeezed her knee.

They sat there in comfortable silence for another while before a mischievous smirk crept onto Yelena’s face once more.

“Now, are you going to stop frowning and smile again? Or do I need to help you with that?”

“Don’t you dare,”

“Try me,” The blonde grinned, her hands moving towards her sister’s sides. It took about 5 seconds for the tables to turn, but for once Yelena didn’t care. She had made her sister smile again.

#Black Widow #Natasha Romanoff #Yelena Belova #Natasha x Yelena #Sisters #My two emotional murder babies #Tickling #Comfort

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cerebralinvasion · 2 years

Text

forget everything i said. (kokichi x reader)

tw: implied death, grief

notes: get your daily dose of angst <3 also i wrote this whole thing on my iphone while on a bus so sorry if the formatting is kind of wonky

your heart ached. you clutched your chest as tears streamed down your face and you wailed because god it hurt so much. your best friend throughout this whole killing game had turned out to be a murderer. and then to make it worse you had to watch them be torn limb from limb, right before your eyes. why god why? it hurt to breathe, it hurt to think. you couldn’t do this anymore. “nishishi aw don’t tell me your crying over that stupid dork, they had it coming anyways!” kokichi’s cheery tone filled the room, a stark contrast to the grizzly events that you had just witnessed. you knew he didn’t really mean it. you knew that lying about the way he felt and playing the role of a villain was just how he coped, but that didn’t change the unbridled rage and hurt that you felt as he spoke. it didn’t change the glare you shot him or the evident hurt in your eyes. “aww, is poor (s/o) mad at me? it’s not my fault you went and made friends with a stupid idiot that decided to kill somebody!” you gritted your teeth. how could he. how dare he talk about them like that. normally you would be able to brush off his antics, blatant lies, and attempts to get a rise out of you, but all the emotions were boiling over and it seemed you were losing your rationality. “it should have been you.” you grumbled staring at the floor. then you looked up at him, making direct eye contact. any hint of emotion was lost on his face. his lips pulled right as he blankly stared at you. how could he be acting so calm? didn’t he care? “FUCK YOU it should have been you!” you shouted allowing your emotions to spill over and letting your words fill the silence. “because god knows not a single fucking person here would give a shit if you died.” you glared at him even though you knew it wasn’t true, you knew that if anything happened to kokichi your heart would shatter all over again but you didn’t say that. “you’re such a fucking asshole and you wonder why no one actually likes you.” kokichi blinked at you furrowing his brows. “i don’t need you to tell me that no one likes me.” he spoke careful not to let any hint of his emotions shine through. “besides it’s fine because i don’t like anyone either! an ultimate supreme leader like me doesn’t fall for stupid things like friendship or romances!” his bright grin was back and if you hadn't known any better you’d assume he really was just having a casual conversation with you. you furrowed your brows. could he really not take any of this seriously? “whatever. i’m done.” you turned around and walked out. deep down you knew that what you said had hurt him, and you felt awful about it. but it was to late to just turn around and say ‘whoops my bad didn’t mean to tell you that i wish you died and no one loves you’. so this was it then? your relationship with kokichi was over? you finally reached your dorm and sat yourself down on your bed. you couldn’t help but feel guilty over what you had said. you knew he didn’t have anyone else here, you knew you were the only person who actually cared about him; and now he thought he truly had nobody. whatever. everything that happened today was all too much you seriously couldn’t take much more of any emotion. so you rolled over and buried your face into your pillow, hoping to drown out everything and everyone.

#danganronpa x reader #kokichi x reader #kokichi x you #kokichi x y/n #danganronpa #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma #kokichi #drv3 kokichi #oma kokichi #ouma kokichi #angst

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mochikeiji · 3 years

Text

𝐖𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝟏𝐤! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 (*^▽^*) 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮!

what is this?

五月 - May

𝐆𝐨! 𝐆𝐨! 𝐆𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 — (inspired after Go! Go! Gojou!) in celebration of this milestone this month of May, requests for the event are now open!

rules / notes

↬ Below are the listed characters that I will be writing for the event; (reminder that these are the only characters I'm currently used to. I have trouble writing for the ones that aren't in the list ^^)

Characters I accept ↴

✧ Haikyuu: Kuroo Tetsuro

✧ Jujutsu Kaisen: Ryomen Sukuna, Megumi Fushiguro, Inumaki Toge, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento, Okkotsu Yuta

✧ Yuukuko no Moriarty: Sebastian Moran

↬ For this event, I accept only; fluff, angst, hurt/comfort genres!(if ever I might add some suggestive ones, but not as far to nsfw) You may specify what kind of scene you would want to happen!

↬ Simply pick a number from the list below (maximum of 3 prompts) and 1 character of your choice.

↬ Important note: this is my very first event so I'm thinking ahead of the possible outcomes. One, is that there's a high chance I may be delayed in publishing the requests due to them being many or the usual, lack of inspiration and the right mind. Two, like anyone else, I have the right to decline a request if I cannot proceed to write or crank out an idea or generally having a hard time. I write for fun, not as an obligation. Please do not feel bad though! Your requests will serve as a suggestion that may still help me along the way ^^ please please do be patient with me as I will do my best to write for you guys. ♡

event status:

𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝!

chip chip! ˎ₍•ʚ•₎ˏ

❝coincidentally I started running this blog back in 2020 of May when I began writing once more. I didn't really think I'd make it this far despite the long hiatus run I've went through and the small amount of stories written. I've had fun sharing whatever I daydreamed every day, it makes my heart soar knowing someone finds comfort in between the words and enjoys them. It's been truly an honor writing for the enjoyment of others and to be able to have fun.

I wish to extend my appreciation and love all the way because these aren't enough to express how I feel right now. Thank you all so much for being so sweet and loving. Supporting and encouraging me all the way. Interacting with me even at the shortest time period. Every thing, I am thankful for. I hope to continue on writing and sharing my ideas for you all to find joy in and to meet more of you on this journey ♡ thank you for being one of my reasons to fall back in love of what I've lost before.❞

prompt list:

1. "You don't mean that, right?"

2. "Even in this life, it's still you"

3. "Don't lie to me"

4. "You're really pretty"

5. "Don't look at me like that"

6. "No, don't cover your smile"

7. "Can you do that again?"

8. "Say something, please"

9. "I just love you"

10. "Do you really want this?"

11. "I'm so sorry"

12. "Please don't cry"

13. "I'm always here for you"

14. "Never in my life have I loved someone this hard"

15. "I don't want someone else, I want you!"

16. "My daily dose of happiness!"

17. "Let's be greedier"

18. "I've lost so many before, I'm not about to lose you too"

19. "Do you still love me?"

20. "You think too much"

21. "Hug your boyfriend/girlfriend!"

22. "I really want to hold your hand"

23. "I don't like the way he looks at you"

24. "Stay longer"

25. "Would you notice if I was gone?"

26. "I would give up everything if it means having you by my side"

27. "Hey, look at me. Keep your eyes open"

28. "Are you jealous?"

29. "I didn't mean it"

30. "You're the only person I'd always run to"

31. "How'd you fell in love with them?"

32. "You idiot, why would you do that?!"

33. "I don't need you to solve every thing! I need you to understand!"

34. "I need you because I love you"

35. "My baby is so cute!"

36. "Let's have another one"

37. "You want to go out now? At 2am?"

38. "You make me the happiest"

39. "Promise me you'll stay with me"

40. "Wake up"

41. "Kiss me"

42. "Don't leave me"

43. "You made this for me?"

44. "Did I do something wrong?"

45. "You're too close." "I can get closer"

46. "I'll protect you with all my life"

47. "Everything I am, I own, is all yours"

48. "I didn't think it was possible to fall in love again"

49. "Mine." "I know but can you let me go?"

50. "Oh, sorry. You were so cute I had to kiss you"

51. "Do you think you'll blush more if I do this?"

52. "Why can't it be just us for once?"

53. "You're the only source of happiness I don't ever want to disappear"

54. "Stop it"

55. "Are you drunk?"

56. "You look like my husband/wife"

57. "Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster"

58. "You're squeezing me." "I just really need to hold you"

59. "I heard you like bad boys." "You have a bad personality, no cap"

60. "Give me a chance"

61. "Sometimes I wonder why I'm with you"

62. "You're nervous? Why?" "Because I really wanna be with you"

63. "Don't scare me like ever again!"

64. "I thought i was going to lose you"

65. "Let me stay for the night"

66. "Bestie please." "Who the hell is bestie? I only know baby"

67. "My world is full of color thanks to you." "I thought you ate a crayon."

68. "I'm trying to be romantic here"

69. "Someone misses me" "I really do"

70. "Can we get married now?"

71. "You looked so angry" "They hurt you"

72. "Do you see that? That there is a beauty and all mine"

73. "You smell so good"

74. "Can I kiss you?"

75. "I knew you love me!" "I do" "What?"

76. "Fess up, which one of you did this?"

77. "Pay attention to me"

78. "Believe me you have no idea how much you mean to me"

79. "Dang someone french kiss me" "Okay let's go."

80. "May I have this dance?"

81. "I'm not going anywhere"

82. "Make a wish"

83. "Wanna maybe go out on Saturday or something?" "Sure!" "Wait what?"

84. "What time is it?" "It's loving times, now come here."

85. "See this? This is my hand." "Why are you holding mine?" "It's MY hand"

86. "I hate you"

87. "What are you looking at?"

88. "Don't take anything away from me anymore"

89. "It's so good to be home"

90. "I love you!" "..." "Say it back!"

91. "I'm gonna go have a long, warm bath" "There room for one more?"

92. "Did you just take a picture of me?"

93. "Comfortable there?"

94. "Is that my shirt?" "You just want an excuse to touch me."

95. "I don't want to be alone again"

96. "It'll always be you"

97. "So poetic" "I know, I got it from google"

98. "Please, I see the way you smile at him/her"

99. "Give me some sugar"

100. "Perfect. So perfect."

— 楽しい時間をお過ごしください！

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #geto x reader #geto suguru #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #ryomen sukuna #inumaki x reader #okkotsu yuuta #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #yuukuko no moriarty x reader #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x reader #yuukuko no moriarty #raines: gogatsu event

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male drider x reader - Part Four (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I think the previous parts have had a female reader, but I left it ambiguous/gender neutral in this one, even in the nsfw bits, mostly out of habit.

It's 8000 words, with a bit of angst, a good dose of fluff, some recognition of unhealthy attitudes, and a slightly messy nsfw scene at the end...

Hope you enjoy!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Gilvas waited until you’d closed the matching panel at the other end of the secret passage, and then turned away.

While you worked on the catalogue, you couldn’t shake the vulnerable look on his face as he’d told you about his late wife and as you’d stared at her vivacious features in the portrait. In the nine years since her death, he’d become a shadow, haunting this creepy old mansion and drifting from one day to the next, and it broke your heart. Gilvas was clearly a gentle soul, though his fuse was short at times, but you had begun to suspect that it was more of a defence mechanism than a character trait.

As evening billowed around the stone walls of the enormous house at the end of the day, with an awful lot still swirling around your mind, you nearly walked straight into Naril who was loading his last pile of autumn leaves into a wheelbarrow by the back door. He called your name just in time and you sidestepped with a bashful grin.

“So is it true?” he asked almost immediately.

“Is what true?”

His ears waggled and he laughed as he dumped the leaves into the barrow with a little flourish. “You and the master…?”

“Me and the master what?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “You make it sound like we’re school kids caught snogging behind the bike sheds! He showed me the portrait of his wife and told me a bit about her, that’s all.”

Naril shook his head expressively. “We’ve had people here on the estate before, you know? None of them ended up strolling the corridors with him.”

“How’d you know about it anyway?” you asked instead, resisting the urge to flick him in fond reprimand on his large ear.

“Chiara came in and started talking to my dad about it. I couldn’t believe it, and neither could they. The master doesn’t ‘chat’ with anyone…”

You shrugged. “Well, if he’s happy talking to me, I’m happy enough to listen. He seems nice, once you get past the way he likes to bark at you.”

Two days later, while you were stooped over the working version of the catalogue, scribbling something down in the margins of your cataloguing notes, the shadows moved in the recesses of the library, and Gilvas emerged. You looked up and smiled. “Hi,” you offered.

He nodded curtly at you and began to pace.

Setting your pencil down a minute or two later, you asked, “Everything… alright?”

Gilvas turned, apparently on the point of snapping something acerbic and defensive at you, but he caught himself in time and paused, throat working. The dark red birthmark on his neck moved and shifted like ink in water. If asked, you’d have said he was nervous. “I… I was wondering if you would take tea with me on the terrace today.”

You froze. Of all the things you’d been expecting from him, that had not been it. “Uh…” you began artlessly.

“Or not. You don’t have to,” he blurted, turning away. “Stupid idea anyway.”

“Wait,” you laughed, relief washing through you. “Wait. I’d love to. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

If you’d been surprised, it was nothing to the expression on Chiara’s face when he summoned her to the library with a little bell pull that you’d not spotted before.

“You… You want to take tea… You want to take tea outside…?” the harpy repeated, looking unsteady on her clawed feet.

As if he’d just realised how unusual it was, his expression went blank, his four ruby eyes going dull, and he seemed to deflate. Gone was the intimidating, sharp-edged lord of the manor, and in his place you saw a vulnerable, shattered widower, with no one to talk to and rusty social skills.

Reading her master well enough, Chiara schooled her features into something resembling their usual sternness, and she nodded. “Of course. I will have it set up for you and…” she looked at you with her golden eyes and you tried not to shrink away. “For the both of you.”

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, departing.

“I think I gave her quite the shock,” he muttered, half smirking.

With a snort, you said, “We’re just going to have to find more ways to surprise them.”

“Them?”

“Your staff,” you said. “It’s clear that they all respect you, and they enjoy working here - well, obviously I can’t speak for all of them, but I have supper with Mr. Ambleside and his son almost every night. I don’t get the impression that they’d object to seeing a bit more of their mysterious master from time to time.”

“It’s been so long,” he croaked. “I… I’ve hidden myself away up here. I… I don’t remember — I mean…” he broke off and you noticed how glassy his eyes were.

Cautiously, you approached him and laid your hand on his foremost right leg. It was smooth like glass, and cold. It felt extremely brittle, though you knew the chitin was pretty tough. Your eyes nearly drifted to the empty stump on his right side though, and you suppressed a shiver. It wasn’t that tough. He shuddered and you nearly retracted your touch. “Sounds like you could use a friend to take tea with every now and again…” you said gently.

“I’d like that,” he said. “If… If you could bear it.”

“Bear it?” you repeated. “Please. I wouldn’t have accepted if it wasn’t something I didn’t already want to do.”

Gilvas fixed you with a piercing red gaze, making the blood-dark streak of his hair and the swirling birthmark stand out in vivid detail. “No,” he mused slowly, his legs and spider body relaxing a little into your touch like a great machine coming to rest. “I don’t suppose you would.”

Tea on the terrace became a daily fixture, weather permitting, and on the first day it was rained off, he asked you into a small drawing room on the ground floor that you’d never been in before.

Four and a half months into your stay, he leaned over the table and poured you another cup with shaking hands. He always shook, you realised, though the tremors worsened when he grew agitated or emotional. If Naril was right, he was about ten years older than you, and while at times he seemed youthful and almost playful when you got him talking about one of his interests - mathematics was a particular favourite of his - there were times when he seemed stiff and tired, and much, much older than you; and older than he truly was. He carried the weight of his grief around with him everywhere, dragging at him like chains, rattling in the quiet corridors of his mind and reminding him of his heartache. He never went too long with a smile on his face, the expression often shattering or sliding off his face to leave a brittle mask behind.

“Gilvas?” you asked as he set the teapot down on the tray with a rattle. “Everything alright?”

“You’re too perceptive by half,” he grumbled. “I wanted to ask you to dine with me tonight.”

“Oh,” you breathed, taken off-guard.

“You sound disappointed,” he said a slight huff to his tone.

Conflicted, you said, “It’s Naril’s birthday. He’s celebrating with the rest of the staff and some of his friends tonight, and he asked me to join him…”

“Then you must go, obviously,” he said. After a pause he added, “Naril is the one who tends to the gardens, is he not?”

“Mmm. He’s a firbolg.”

“My father always hired firbolgs for their way with nature. I’d forgotten that Ambleside has a child. How old is he?”

“About my age, I suppose?”

Whether or not he was aware of it, Gilvas’ face shuttered at that. With a sigh, he shifted his already vague gaze to the huge patio windows beside you and stared out at the gardens beyond. It had been raining earlier, but it had cleared up now to leave broad puddles flashing in the sunlight on the terrace. “I think I will go for a walk through the gardens this evening before sunset…”

“You want some company?” you asked, but he shook his head.

“No. Thank you.”

Naril’s party was just rowdy enough to be fun without straying too far into unruliness, and you stayed up late in the kitchens, laughing and joking with him and his father, who, it turned out, had quite the sense of humour with a few glasses of wine in him. Eloise, the maid, also joined you, and a few friends of Naril’s who lived in Starfall Springs. The laughter continued long into the night, until his friends from town announced that it was time to head back just shy of one in the morning.

Waving them off at the end of the night, still buzzing with the unusually vibrant evening, you and Naril turned from the upper gates and walked back to the house. In the dark, the firbolg could see much better than you, so he let you loop your arm amicably through his to stop yourself stumbling on the uneven driveway.

Just as you stepped back into the kitchen, he cracked a good-natured joke at your expense, recalling a moment from earlier in the evening, and you nearly fell about laughing. “Oh my gods,” you wheezed as you clung to his arm to stop yourself tripping up the step. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the plosive consonant with a chuckle. “You’re far too easy to tease. I —” he cut off suddenly, expression falling. His eyes were wide and he was staring at a point on the far side of the kitchen.

You looked up and found the hulking shape of a drider standing silhouetted in the dark doorway. “Forgive me,” Gilvas said stiffly, jaw working. “I came for a brandy. I thought you’d all turned in for the night.”

You blurted, “Gilvas?” at the same time as Naril whispered, “My lord?”

“Forget it,” he said, turning abruptly in the wide doorway. “I hope you enjoyed your evening together.”

Even after the door slammed behind him - the gesture leaving a sour taste in your mouth - neither you nor Naril spoke.

Finally it was Naril who broke the silence. “I’ve never seen him before…” he murmured, awestruck at the encounter. “He looks dreadful. Perhaps he is sick after all?”

“He doesn’t look as dreadful as he looked three months ago,” Chiara’s unexpected voice said tartly from the pantry to your left where she’d apparently been occupied, stowing away the remnants of the uneaten food.

You swallowed. “Well… I… uh… I guess I’d better head back. Thanks for tonight,” you said, hugging Naril briefly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to give you… It’s not as if I can go into town or anything from here…”

“Couldn’t you ask your friend to pick you up,” he said. “You know, the one you phone every Friday?”

Despite having phoned Damien every week since arriving, you’d never even thought of asking him to drive all the way out here and pick you up for the weekend. He’d probably do it though if you asked. “I guess I could…”

The idea took root in your mind, and as you took your break the next day, you used the house’s landline to call Damien’s shop since he’d be at work too.

“Hey!” he chuckled. “You don’t normally phone today. How’s things at the Spookville Court?”

“Don't call it that,” you scoffed. “It’s fine. Listen, I haven’t got long, but I was wondering if maybe you’d be free this weekend…? I know it’s not exactly a short drive, but I’d kind of like to get out of here for the weekend…”

There was a pause while he checked his calendar. “Sure,” he said. “I can pick you up on Friday night if you like?”

“You don't have plans?”

“I was gonna grab a beer with Sarrigan since he’s in town,” he admitted, “But maybe if you can get away early, we could go together?”

“I don’t see why I couldn’t…” you said. No one was monitoring your hours after all, and it wasn’t as if you hadn’t made huge inroads into the project already.

You grinned and practically flung yourself at him when Damien’s truck drew up outside your cottage on the far side of the courtyard. The wide expanse of gravel sat on the side of the house with the servants’ entrance, and was overlooked by the back of the mansion.

“I missed you!” you laughed, letting the colossal orc spin you easily in a circle. “You still smell like chocolate,” you said as his immensely long, black plait caught you in the face.

“Just proves I’m sweet,” he joked, and you groaned, smacking him in the chest with the back of your hand as he set you down.

“That was a bad pun, even for you.”

“You ready?” he asked.

“You don’t want to stretch your legs first? You’ve literally just got here.” He shook his head, but did nip inside your apartment for a drink of water and a bathroom break. While he was gone, you leaned against his truck and looked up at the trees above you. The height of summer was fading to the bronze of autumn now, and a few coppery leaves rained down around you like confetti, spiralling through the air that promised a change of season soon.

“Ready?” he asked, swinging your overnight bag easily into the truck and helping you up the enormous step into the cab.

As you drove away, you glanced up at the house and caught the glint of sun on a window as it closed on one of the upper storeys, but you soon forgot about the house as Damien began to regale you with stories of your friends’ antics.

With Widowsweb Court in the rear view mirror, you sighed and settled into the comfy seat, letting Damien talk as the house dwindled to nothing behind you. It felt good to be away from the limited confines of the estate, but as you looked forward to a weekend in Starfall Springs with your friends, something nagged at the back of your mind, like a caught thread pulling in the sleeve of a favourite sweater…

Your whole weekend in Starfall Springs was like the first breath of fresh garden air after a day spent in the dusty library of Widowsweb Court.

Damien had taken you to the Inglenook Inn that first night, where he, Sarrigan, their respective partners, plus a mothman named Merritt whom you’d met a few times before, and a couple of your other friends were gathered, and the lot of you talked late into the night. There were a lot of questions about Widowsweb Court, but you mostly focused on the work and describing the house and gardens to them. Somehow it felt disrespectful - an invasion of his privacy - to talk about Gilvas much.

As you left the pub to walk back to your modest apartment at the north end of the town, Sarrigan caught up with you. As he scuttled up to you, you were struck suddenly by the difference between him and Gilvas. Sarrigan Silkfoot’s silver-banded fur rippled in the moonlight, ruffled by the night breezes, where Gilvas’ spider body was black, hard, and shiny as black lacquer, and where Gilvas’ legs moved like articulated, curved daggers, Sarrigan’s were chunky and muscular and unbelievably fuzzy, ending in a little hooked and almost dainty talon. Gilvas’ legs ended in wicked points, sharp and slender as paring knives, and his fangs probably carried a deadly venom, where Sarrigan’s smile held only jollity. Gilvas also had no mandibles, where Sarrigan’s hardware clicked and chittered with his emotions.

“Listen,” he said as he fell into a near-silent step beside you. “I know you’ve not got any reception up there at Widowsweb, so I haven’t been able to get in touch by text or whatever, but I just wanted to ask you - away from the others - how it’s going. With my family’s history with theirs, I did some digging into the Widowsweb estate and the family…”

“You did?” You weren’t sure whether to be offended or curious, but in the end, the latter won out. “What did you find?”

“Just tragedy. Lately anyway. Earlier generations seem to have done ok, but… you should look him up.”

“Who, Gilvas?”

He nodded.

“You mean the fire?”

Again, he nodded, shuffling nervously. “The police think he started it, but they could never prove it.”

You scowled, horrified and hurt. “Sarrigan, I’ve met him. He doesn't seem like the type to murder his family - and his unhatched children too?” You shook your head, appalled, stomach roiling. “He’s devastated… rarely talks about them, and when he does… he’s close to tears. I think he lost a leg in the fire too.”

Sarrigan’s handsome face remained harsh and he clicked his mandibles pensively. Finally, he sighed. “Just… be careful, ok? The articles I found all said he had a nasty temper, and that since his wife’s death, he fired all the staff and turned into some kind of recluse…”

“They’ve got the last bit right,” you said, “But not the first.” He did have a short fuse though. “Thanks for looking out for me, Sarrigan, but I’m not worried.”

He nodded once. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

You shook your head and parted from him with a warm hug. “I appreciate it, but trust me… Gilvas isn’t some cruel, violent lunatic. He’s an isolated widower who’s never learned how to move past his grief.”

To your relief, Sarrigan seemed to take you at your word, and left you at your door looking happier for having aired his anxieties, and in turn having had them laid to rest.

The remainder of your weekend passed without incident, but you couldn’t get Sarrigan’s words out of your head. If he’d been painted by the press at the time as some kind of violent monster, it was no wonder that Gilvas had hidden himself away on his estate and never spoke to anyone.

On the Sunday of your weekend away, you met up with a few friends at Damien’s cafe for breakfast, and spent the better part of the day while the sun was out browsing the marketplace. As you passed a carpenter’s stall, your eye was drawn by a number of carved, wooden puzzle boxes. The satyr who had made them was demonstrating how one of them worked to a small crowed of fascinated onlookers, and when he finished, finally sliding the last section of wood free, the lid sprang open to reveal the empty chamber inside, and everyone applauded.

Fascinated, you realised what a tactile thing the boxes were, and suddenly thought of Gilvas. With his reduced sight, he relied a lot on his sense of touch. On a whim, you bought one and had it wrapped neatly in brown paper by the satyr. Thanking him, you headed home and packed up, bringing with you a few new clothes and a few more things to occupy your evenings.

Bouncing back up the driveway in Damien’s truck that evening, you couldn’t miss the looks the orc tossed you sidelong, and as you drew to a halt in the courtyard again, he stayed put in his seat and asked, “Are you really alright here? It’s so remote…”

“It’s fine,” you said. “I love the work, and the people are kind. I promise I’ll ring you the moment I’m unhappy, but for now, I’m honestly loving it. I’ve never had a better or more fulfilling job, Damien. I can’t believe I’ve got so little time left really…” You paused and sighed. “I almost don’t want to leave.”

He bowed his head and backed off, though not without pulling you half into his lap for a bone-crushing hug first. “Take care, OK?” he grunted before releasing you.

“You sure you won’t stay for some supper?” you asked as you slithered out of your side of the cab and landed on the gravel. “I bet you’d love Naril.”

“I can’t,” he said with a regretful grimace. “I need to get back to prep the shop for next week. Another time?”

You nodded. “Drive safely.”

For the entire week following your return to Widowsweb Court, you didn’t see even the slightest glimpse of Gilvas.

There was no trace of his having been in the library at all, and the secret panel at the rear of the room stayed firmly shut. You didn’t think it was your place to go wandering the corridors again, and although you continued to take a mug of tea out onto the terrace every afternoon, it was hardly the spread of High Tea that you had shared with him every day for months. The whole place seemed empty without his presence now, reminding you of your very first week there, when every shadow and doorway had loomed ominously large before you.

Finally, at the end of the week, you ran in to Chiara on your way back down and you paused to let her past with an armful of linen. “Chiara, is… is Gilvas around? Is he alright?”

She narrowed her eyes and tutted softly at you. “None of your concern,” she snipped at you before bustling off.

You stood there, mute and surprised.

It definitely didn’t sound like he was alright, but what were you to him, really? You thought of the box stowed away in your room, waiting for the right time to be brought out and given to him, and suddenly felt foolish. You’d known him for a matter of months. He was a lord, with land and a title; he had a whole household full of things already, and you were just there to reorganise his library. He’d probably already forgotten about you.

You worked solidly through the morning again the next day, but didn’t feel hungry enough to go down to lunch. You continued on through the day, pausing only to sip from your water bottle before heading back up the ladders time and time again with armfuls of books. It was exhausting. There was no trace of the webbing he’d used to catch you, and since there was also no sign of him, you made sure to take extra care going up and down.

With a sigh you finally set down the last of the hagiographies at eight o’clock that night, and put your hands to the small of your back, grunting. Dusty, tired, stiff, and still oddly demoralised, you thought you heard the creak of a door from the back of the library, but you’d barely dared to hope before the main doors opened and Naril stumped in, looking terribly out of place and awkward in his gardening overalls. He had mud on his trousers, but his boots had been scraped clean.

He sighed your name in obvious relief when he spotted you. “You ok?” he asked.

“Fine, why?” you frowned as you turned to face him, still with your palms pressed to the small of your back.

“You didn’t come to lunch, and you missed supper as well. I was worried about you.”

You smiled and dropped your hands to your sides. “I’m fine. I just… haven’t felt like myself lately. Thank you though.”

An awkward silence hung between you, and he scratched the back of his head. “Right. Well, there’s… uh… stuff in the larder and fridge if… if you get hungry. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been crushed by a ton of books or something.”

With a chuckle, you said, “This isn’t The Mummy you know? People do actually secure their bookshelves…”

He laughed briefly and headed for the doors again. “Seriously though… Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, ears waggling.

“I’ve… I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Ok,” he said, green eyes wide and glassy. “Well, you can always talk to me. What are friends for, right?”

“Right. Thank you, Naril.”

He nodded, and left.

In the silent stillness of the library, you sank with a heavy sigh into one of the nearby chairs and let your palm cradle your chin, with your elbow planted on the wood of the table. When had this place started to feel so sad again? It was as if the gloom was seeping back into the fabric of the place like a sponge soaking up ink.

About a minute later, a familiar movement caught your attention and you looked up to find Gilvas standing beside a bookshelf. He was tilting his head in that way that meant he couldn’t see you in the dim light, but he knew you were still there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, hardly daring to move in case he scuttled away.

Locking onto your voice, he moved with expert familiarity round the library and came to a halt near your table. The only light now came from a lamp one shelf over. “I… I overheard…” he began stiffly. His red gaze sailed right over your head, so it was clear that he couldn’t see you, even this close up. “Is… I mean… Are you alright?”

“Could ask the same of you,” you said wryly, eyeing the dark shadows under his eyes and the tightness around his mouth. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” He looked dreadful again, as if he’d hardly eaten anything in the interim.

“Been better, I suppose,” he said. “The firbolg said you haven’t eaten today… is that right?”

“Mmm.”

“Should we raid the kitchen together?”

You smiled. “You haven’t eaten either I take it…”

He shook his head.

Standing, you swayed as a head rush washed over you and you let out a tiny grunt of surprise, grabbing the back of the chair.

With a scowl, he stepped closer. “Alright?” He steadied you, his hand finding your waist and lingering there.

“I missed you,” you breathed unthinkingly as you stared up at him.

Gilvas froze and then let out a rough exhale, withdrawing a few paces. “You did?”

“Mmm. I have something for you too, from Starfall, but it’s back in my room. I… I’d started to think I wasn’t going to see you again…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingers curling briefly into fists at his side. “I… I rather let the melancholy take over again.”

“Why?” you asked, stepping closer to him. His ear followed you and he narrowed his eyes. You got the impression that you’d just stepped into his limited field of vision and he could now make out your silhouette in the shadowy library.

The lord of Widowsweb Court gave a bitter, brittle laugh and turned away, legs moving in sequence like a windup toy. “I think I misled myself,” he said eventually.

Your brows knitted and you closed the distance between you, laying your hand boldly on his cool, obsidian foreleg again. As before, he shivered, but he didn't pull away. “What do you mean?”

“I suppose I got carried away - this past month in particular,” he said in his rough baritone.

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” he said, that cut-glass edge returning to his voice. “You don’t know what it was like before you came here; before you —” he stopped himself but then took a breath and continued in barely a whisper, the consonants softly articulated. You had to lean in closer to hear him. “Before you brought the light back to this place.” His voice cracked as he added, “And you took it with you.”

“Gilvas…” you gasped, shocked by his tone.

“I know,” he growled. “It’s inappropriate of me, and melodramatic. You were only gone for two days. But it’s the truth. I got so swept up in spending time with someone again — in… in enjoying myself — that I somehow forgot that you have a whole life outside of our brief interactions here, beyond these walls…”

“Naril's birthday…” you breathed and he nodded. He’d stumbled upon you and Naril sharing a laugh and a close touch at his birthday and had assumed from the physical closeness that there was something more than friendship between you. That had been the last time you’d seen him.

Then he shook his head in disgust and sneered self-deprecatingly, “It’s as though I became a teenager again - spoilt and sour and… everything I loathe about myself.”

He backed away out of your grip until his huge carapace nudged against the shelf behind him and he went still again. Trapped between you and the books, he breathed heavily for a moment through his aquiline nose. Your heart was beating in your throat but you kept quiet.

“I have a nasty, possessive side,” he said, scowling. “I’d almost forgotten about it, but as — I hesitate to call it a friendship… I’m not sure what we had between us — but whatever it was grew, I came to think of you as… mine. And then I saw you laughing with him and… I remembered that you’re not mine at all. I have no right to make those kinds of disgusting demands or claims. You’re not mine — you’re not anyone’s but your own person. I forgot myself, and I hated myself for it.”

He was jealous.

Gilvas was jealous that you’d been laughing with Naril that night. Despite the anguish on his face, you had to smile. When he heard you chuckle softly, he growled at you again, deep and rich and animalistic. Defensive. That was all it was; defensive bluster.

“It’s true that Naril has come to be my friend here,” you said, moving carefully closer to him now that he couldn’t back away any more. “But I thought about you all weekend while I was away. I couldn’t get you out of my head. When my friend Sarrigan —”

“— Silkfoot?” he interrupted with a sneer. “‘Sarrigan’ is an old Silkfoot name…”

“Yes. Sarrigan Silkfoot is a friend of mine,” you said carefully, noting the lingering displeasure in his features. “He’s currently dating a human, and my best friend, Damien, is also very much in love with a human. If you’re worried about what previous generations of Silkfoots thought about relationships between species, you needn’t worry. The current heir to the family - Sarrigan’s older brother - has even recently married a human. Things have moved on since the founding of Widowsweb…”

His chest heaved and he sank lower so that his pendulous spider’s body was only a few inches above the ground, and his torso and head were almost on a level with yours. “I’ve hidden myself away too long,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

Taking a final step over to him, you stood in the space between his deadly front legs. It felt suddenly intimate in the extreme, and you reached your palm out and laid it on his chest. He flinched, but let you talk.

“Sarrigan told me a bit more about the papers said… about the circumstances of the fire… about what people believed at the time…” you said carefully, and Gilvas’ face darkened dangerously. “But I got to know you before I’d heard that, and I can’t believe you would have started it. I can’t believe anyone thought that of you.” You placed your left palm to mirror your right and felt the way his chest heaved with emotion as he listened. “You’re a good person, Gilvas. I told my friends that, and they believed me. And I think you’ve suffered alone for long enough.”

Gilvas’ expression shattered and he leaned forwards and drew you into his arms. “I don't want you to leave…” he whispered into your hair as he held you close. He smelled like books and sandalwood, warm and comforting, and you let your arms snake around his waist.

“I don't have anything else lined up for after I finish here,” you said without letting go. He was gently inhaling the scent of you, you realised, and you let him hold you, drawing comfort from the warmth of your body. “And I told you there’s a lifetime’s worth of work to do on this library…”

“I could renew your contract,” he said. “Or… Or you could… No. I don't want you to feel… obliged…” he said, swallowing thickly and drawing sharply back from your embrace as if you’d burned him. “If I’m paying you —” his face buckled into a sour grimace and he lurched slightly further away from you. “I don’t want to pay you to stay here…” he spat as if the idea thoroughly disgusted him.

You laughed. “I own my apartment in Starfall. I could rent it out for some income, and come and live here with you. That way… there’s no imbalance…”

“Yes,” he nodded breathlessly, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. “Yes, that’s… that’s good. And if you still have your apartment, you can… I mean… there will be somewhere for you… if… if you decide…”

“Stop,” you said. “Don’t push me away again.”

The drider took a huge inhale and nodded. Then he licked his lips nervously and said, “You know, we were going to raid the kitchen before we went down this path. You shouldn’t make any rash decisions on an empty stomach.”

“An excellent point,” you said with mock seriousness. “Let’s go.”

Over a rather strange and cobbled-together supper of leftovers scrounged from the pantry, eaten at the scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen, Gilvas stayed almost completely silent. At first, you thought he was just concentrating on eating, being particularly careful about his movements since he didn’t see as clearly as you did, but after a while, you discovered the crinkle in his brow and noticed the tremor in his fingers again.

“Wait here,” you said, pushing back from the table and touching the back of his hand briefly. He was always so cold.

“Where are you going?” he barked, tense.

With a giggle, you said, “Trust me. I’ll be right back.”

And with that, you vanished out of the back door and scuttled over the gravel to the little apartment above the old stable block where you’d been staying for the past few months. Minutes later, you returned to find him exactly where you’d left him, scowling at his food.

He looked up sharply as you reentered, and you watched his shoulders drop with relief a split second later when he figured out that it was you.

“Here,” you said, holding out the brown paper parcel to him, touching it to the back of his fingers in case he couldn’t see it.

In moments, it was obvious to you that he couldn’t, because his fingertips trailed along the edges, looking for a way into the parcel. “What is it?” he asked warily, shifting his head from side to side.

“You’ll find out. I saw them being made in the marketplace, and I think with your sense of touch you’ll probably have an advantage over someone with sharper vision…”

At that, his frown deepened, though not from discomfort. He was openly curious now, and he got to work on the wrappings, abandoning them to one side. “A box?” he murmured when he’d run his fingers all the way around it. Watching him, you suddenly felt a thrum of desire go right through you. You wanted him to do that to your body, to explore you by touch, and you barely bit back a moan as the force of it swept through you.

He paused and turned his face towards you expectantly.

“Yeah,” you croaked. “It’s a puzzle box. It’s all inlaid with different types of wood, and there are a few panels and sections that you have to slide in the right order to open it.”

At that, his face cracked into a gorgeous, open, delighted grin and your heart slipped sideways in your chest at the youthfulness it lent to his features. “I used to love these as a child,” he said. “Thank you.”

He moved then, obviously not having been sitting on a chair like you, and found his way faultlessly around the kitchen to where you were seated opposite him. The little inlaid box lay to one side on the table while he took your hands in his and squeezed your knuckles fondly, earnestly.

“Thank you,” he rasped again.

You raised your chin and he let go of you with his right hand and brought it up to cup your left cheek in his cool palm. His thumb traced an arc across your skin and you shivered, exhaling and breathing hard. “Gilvas…” you whispered, want burning inside you inside you like a flare. You didn’t want to push him or rush him, but if he didn’t kiss you in the next three seconds, you thought you might just wither up and die on the spot.

Mercifully, he leaned down, tilting your chin upwards to meet his lips. His kiss was soft, his lips cool and hesitant, but the moment you let a little moan of pleasure escape you, he deepened the kiss. His long fingers scrunched in your hair and he closed his red eyes with a flutter of long lashes. His two forelegs rose up slightly for balance as his body rocked downwards and he pulled back with a gasp, chest heaving again. “I want you,” he whispered hoarsely, looking suddenly shy.

You grinned and stood. “I want you too…”

Gilvas led you through the house, pausing with endearing frequency to kiss you breathless against almost every spare surface that wasn’t covered by paintings or suits of armour or priceless vases on precarious pedestals, and finally he backed you up against the double doors to a bedroom on the fourth floor, and picked you up so that you had to latch your legs around his waist at the point where his humanoid torso met his spider’s body. You ground yourself against him as he kissed you over and over, his long hair falling around your face in a black and red curtain.

With one foreleg, he delicately pushed the handle down and nudged the doors open. Still holding you, he drew your top off over your head, discarding it to one side as he carried you across the room and deposited you onto a massive bed. It bounced and flexed beneath you, and as you looked around you discovered that it was not a bed, but a thick and intricately woven web slung between the two perpendicular walls of the far corner of the room. You leaned back into it, feeling the soft silken strands flex slightly beneath you, and looked up to see Gilvas’ silhouette in the darkness of the room.

The moon shone through an open window to your right, painting fine silver highlights to the gleaming lacquer of his carapace and needle-like legs, and in the moonlight, you saw that he was dripping webbing onto the floor from the gland at the tip of his spider’s abdomen. You knew enough about driders to know that when they got really aroused, they often leaked webbing like this. Male driders did not mate the way many other beings did, but that didn't put you off. You wanted him - his pleasure, his ecstasy, his noises, his joy…

It did make him suddenly nervous though, as if he’d only just realised that you might be expecting him to penetrate you, and with his anatomy, he couldn’t.

“Gilvas?” you asked, reaching up for him where he still loomed hesitantly above you. “Come here… let me take care of you…”

“I…” he began, but he let you draw him down onto the soft, smooth webbing. His legs ended in those dazzlingly sharp points, and he seemed to dance across the webs like a circus performer on a high wire. He lowered himself down atop you and you kissed him again. His hands skated over your hips and he drew the rest of your clothes off to abandon them beside his bed.

Seeking friction, he carefully slid his slick abdomen against your legs and shivered, moaning. “You’re so warm,” he whispered, head bowing forwards as he rested on his elbows, one on either side of your body. “I can’t believe how warm you are… it’s… it…”

“Does it feel good?” you asked, raking your fingers through his long hair and he nodded wordlessly. “Can you roll over?” you asked.

“Oh gods,” he gasped, clearly aroused by the idea, and nodded.

It wasn’t the most elegant manoeuvres, but once he was on his back with his legs curled upwards like a black, clawed hand, you sat in the gap where his one missing leg should have been, and ran your hand over the smoothness of his underbelly. In no time you discovered the slit in his lower body that was leaking slick, pearlescent fluid all over himself.

“Oh!” he yelled, spine curling and legs twitching as you traced your fingertips around the softer inner walls of the slit. Where the rest of his body was cool and hard, there he was almost searingly hot, the inner walls silky and slick. “Oh gods, oh gods… oh gods…” he chanted in time with your motions, his whole body twitching and making the webbing rock beneath him.

The tendons of his neck stood out in glorious contrast beneath the watercolour birthmark as he clenched his jaw and rammed his eyes shut, lost in the sensations. His fingers scrabbled at the web of his bed and he rocked and shivered and arched into your touch as you worked him closer and closer. You knew he was going to make a mess when he came, and you felt your whole body flush hot at the thought of finally getting him to let go of all his tight control and insecurities, to give himself over to the simple, honest pleasure you were offering to give him.

The thought of that was almost enough to make you come yourself, but you focused on him until he growled softly.

“I want…” he began but cut off as you grazed a spot inside him unexpectedly with a fingertip that made him bellow wordlessly. “Fuck…” he hissed when he’d recovered, head lolling back again, and you grinned at the curse on his aristocratic tongue. “Wait…” he panted. “I want… I want to touch you… before I… before you make me…” he growled again in frustration. “I’ll only be able to… to… come once… please… let me…” Hearing him lose control of his words like that in the face of his arousal only made it all the more endearing.

“You can touch me,” you said coyly without changing anything, but when he genuinely snarled, sounding more like a werewolf than a drider, you laughed and leaned closer to him.

His cool fingers dug into your arms as he tugged you tight against his body, pulling you down to lie atop him along the length of his belly and humanoid stomach, and you ground yourself against him for a little relief. His hand slid down your body, down your side, and before you could think, he was pleasuring you. “Let me,” he hissed when you tensed a little, revealing his venomous fangs as a flash of white in the dimness when you tried to pull back to finish him.

“But I wanted to make you come,” you pouted, and he actually laughed at that, four red eyes closing and crinkling softly in the corners with genuine amusement at your disgruntlement.

“Too bad,” he groused. “I want to watch you first.”

“Fair enough,” you grunted as he caught you just so and you rocked against him. “I’m so close…” and you really were. His touch was relentless, demanding your pleasure in return for the sensations you’d just given him.

“I know,” he snarled right in your ear, teeth - the non-venomous ones you hoped - just grazing the shell of your ear. “I can smell it on you.”

And with that, you came unexpectedly hard, crashing into your release and clinging to him. He eased you through it and when you lay panting and spent on his chest, he moved his hand to his mouth and cleaned himself luxuriantly, obviously enjoying the taste of you on his skin.

After that, he seemed softer and more relaxed, and when you’d recovered enough to get your legs back under you and return your attentions to his body, he finally seemed to have allowed himself this connection to another person. His body heaved and rocked rhythmically, his legs knocking nonchalantly against each other as he spasmed and moaned, and as he grew wetter and slicker around your hand, and his inner walls began to clench and shiver in a distinct cadence, you knew he was getting close. He was also giving you the most delicious sounds; gasping and cursing, grunting and even wailing softly at times when you slowed your touches to a barely-there whisper against him.

Eventually though, he began to rock against you in earnest, and you felt his release coming as a rapidly-building wave, gathering momentum until it finally ripped through him like a wildfire. White release gushed from his entrance and covered your hand, rolling down the sleek, shiny carapace to soak into the webbing while his body heaved and convulsed with pleasure. He made no sound, his face contorted in a rictus of pleasure as he gave everything he had to you, his hands gripping the webbing as he released in messy waves all over himself and you.

Finally as the pleasure faded to something gentler and less intense, he lay back, motionless on his bed, muscles completely slack, face soft, breathing quiet.

“Gilvas?”

“Mmm?” he hummed without moving.

“You alright?”

“Mmm.”

Weak and completely spent, he lay there unmoving for a long time while you gently trailed your fingers around his still clenching slit as aftershocks of pleasure rippled through him. Eventually, you wiped your hand clean on the webs beside him and shuffled up to lie beside him. He still looked absolutely exhausted and drained, and you sat there a long time just watching him.

After a very long time, he mustered the energy to open one arm to you and you nuzzled in against his bare shoulder. His breath hissed softly through his slack jaw and he pressed a shy kiss to the top of your head. “See why I wanted… to make you… to make you come first?” he whispered, words heavily slurred and indistinct.

You nodded and shifted to drape your arm across his chest and draw idle patterns over the bare skin of his white torso.

His skin was starkly pale in the moonlight, and as you stared at him, you realised he’d probably relied solely on touch for the whole time you’d been in the room. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his jutting collarbone, making him inhale sharply.

He was still too thin, still obviously not taking care of himself properly, but, you thought, if he’d trusted you and let you in to this extent, perhaps you could both take care of each other now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he whispered after another long while of silence and closeness in the dark.

“Just thinking how good this feels,” you said honestly. “And how I could lie like this forever… Or at least… until you’re ready to go again.”

He snorted, taken off-guard. “Won’t be for a very long while,” he said bashfully. “Driders don’t recover quickly. Not the male ones, anyway.”

“I’m in no rush,” you said, laying your cheek back down on his cool skin and shivering as goosebumps rippled up your body.

He fumbled around on his other side and drew a large blanket up and over his body, careful to avoid the mess on his carapace, and let you snuggle up beneath it.

You’d have to wait for the dawn to go again though, because you were asleep in his arms in minutes.

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Maybe we'll get to see more of them in the future, but for now, this four-part story is over. Thanks for your comments and enthusiasm for the cranky spooder boy!

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

#drider #exophilia #male drider #male drider x reader #drider x reader #monster boyfriend #drider boyfriend #male monster #gender neutral reader #female reader #(technically - although the reader in this part is gn)

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