#or that he's cheeky about it and asks for a second chance just to do it again

[braceletofteeth]

naughty. adj.

1. mischievous or disobedient.

2. mildly indecent.

3. annoying.

[beloveds-embrace]

(a very low-effort post abt 141 x their new hacker- you. For better immersion, click on the song link during Soap’s workout! <3)

The first time you make contact, it’s through their personal phones.

Not the official military-issued devices- no, those would be too easy. You wanted to make an impression.

So when Price, Ghost, Gaz, and Soap each glance at their personal screens, expecting the usual notifications from Laswell, they’re instead greeted by:

(¬‿¬) Hello, boys.

Price sighs like a disappointed father, having been forwarned of your antics, and still immediately calls Laswell.

“Care to explain why my phone just got hijacked?”

Laswell doesn’t sound surprised. If anything, she sounds like she’s been expecting and waiting for this- for his phone call specifically about getting hacked. “That’s your new hacker.”

Price pinches the bridge of his nose, while the others exchange Looks of Consideration™️. “That’s how she introduces herself?”

“She’s efficient.”

“She’s cheeky.”

“She’s listening,” you interject, making them all jolt as your voice plays from the phone speakers, honey-sweet and undeniably smug.

There’s a long silence. Then Gaz whispers: “What the fuck?”

You giggle. (≧◡≦) flashes onto all their screens right after that, just as cheeky as your tone.

“So she’s just gonna creep around in our phones now?” Gaz asks after that, wary, an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed.

In response, just his screen flickers, and a new message appears.

(╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ Rude.

Laswell sighs again, much like an exasperated mother, and gestures at their phones. “Give her a chance. She is, despite everything, good at what she does.”

And so from that that moment on, you’re everywhere; they don’t see you, but they feel your presence. You’re in their systems, their devices, and their comms.

Ghost boots up his laptop one day, only to find that his standard background has been replaced with a pixelated skull and crossbones- like those they did on pirate ships in movies. Below it, in small text:

For the spookiest boy.

He says nothing, just tilts his head slightly before closing the laptop.

And when Price logs into the briefing room terminal, instead of the standard military insignia, the screen briefly flashes with the words:

WELCOME BACK, CAPTAIN DILF.

Soap loses it. Price glares at him, then at the screen, then sighs, muttering, “Christ.”

Soap isn’t free from your shenanigans, though.

One day, while doing his usual workout, he pulls up his playlist. The moment he presses play, his music app forcefully closes and reopens with “The Drunk Scotsman” blasting at full volume.

“NO, NO, NO-“ Soap scrambles to shut it off as the entire base turns to look at him.

On his screen, once the app is blessedly closed, a message pops up:

(ʘ‿ʘ) Dance, pretty boy.

And then Gaz’s torture is quieter, but no less effective.

Every so often, while he’s texting, his camera light flickers on. Not long enough to take a photo- just a brief, eerie blink before an emoji appears on his screen:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

He groans. “She’s messing with me.”

“You mean flirting?” Soap smirks, leaning closer to the phone and chuckling as the camera light flickers back on for just another few seconds.

Gaz scowls. “…I hope so.”

Still, despite all your antics, you’re brilliant at what you do. And they learn this firsthand during their first mission with you.

“All teams, check-in.” Price orders as they move through a darkened compound.

Instead of Laswell’s voice responding, it’s yours. Soft, smooth, and playful.

“Five by five, Captain.”

There’s a pause- brief but notable. Then, Price exhales. “You hacking my comms now, too?”

“Wouldn’t be a very good hacker if I couldn’t, would I?”

Soap snorts, snickering with Gaz. “She’s got a point.”

Ghost, listening quietly, murmurs: “Thought you didn’t speak.”

“Only when necessary. Or when I feel like annoying you.”

Your voice is warm, teasing. If Ghost were anyone else, he might have smiled. And then, just like that, you’re all business.

“Sniper on the rooftop, two o’clock.”

Ghost adjusts, and then fires. A body drops.

“Price, your six.”

The captain pivots, taking down the enemy creeping behind him.

“Soap, slow down.”

“I got this,” Soap insists- only for a grenade to go off near him. “…I don’t got this.”

“Clearly.”

“…Shut up.”

With you in their ears, everything runs smoother. Their feeds don’t lag. Their encryptions are tighter. They feel- secure. With you and Laswell? Almost untouchable, but they don’t let it get to their heads.

When they return to base, exhausted but alive, their phones light up with a single message:

(￣︶￣) Good job, boys.

They stare at their screens, and then Price huffs a laugh. Soap grins. Gaz shakes his head. Ghost, unseen beneath his mask, smirks.

They don’t know your face. Haven’t met you in person.

But they decide you’re theirs, and they are yours. Even if you’re just unknown- for now, anyways.

[harrysfolklore]

lando norris being down bad for his girlfriend: a compilation

summary: lando norris can’t help but talk about his girlfriend whenever he cans, fans make compilation videos about it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Lando Norris could be described as someone who's not scared of saying whatever crossed his mind.

And that's why he never, ever, missed the opportunity to talk about his girlfriend whenever he had the chance.

He mentioned her during interviews, press conferences, social media post and even fan interactions. To the point where fans started making compilation videos with all the moments he publicly obsessed over his girlfriend.

The most popular one gathered millions of views on YouTube, showing multiple occasions Lando couldn't help but be down bad for her.

The video started with a clip from Q&A with fans, someone asked him about his favorite way to relax after a race. Without missing a beat, Lando replied, "Cuddling up with my girlfriend, of course. Nothing beats that."

"You're really whipped man, It's embarrassing," Oscar, his teammate, teased beside him, making the audience laugh.

"It's not, really." Lando shrugged proudly.

The next clip was taken from McLaren's Tiktok account, their content creator tried to do the "Can you watch my ___ for a second" prank on Lando.

"Oh my girlfriend already did this prank to me," Lando said, laughing at the camera, "Baby, If you're watching this, I miss you. Your pranks are way better than McLaren's"

The video moved to show Lando during a post-qualifying interview, his suit hanging by his waist and his fireproofs showing, when asked about his strategy for the race, he cheekily replied, "Well, first I'm going to call my girlfriend for some good luck wishes. Then, I'll focus on getting to the front."

"Zak Brown should hire your girlfriend as your strategist then," the interviewer joked.

"That would be great but I don't think we would be getting any job done. You know what they say about mixing business with pleasure."

The next clip showed Lando with his friend and fellow driver Max Fewtrell, playing a trivia game about how well did they knew each other. Max had to answer what was Lando's worst habit.

"I'm going to say leaving dirty plates around the house," he said, showing his board, "You do mate, admit it."

"My girlfriend would agree on that," he admitted, "She's always complaining about it."

"I don't know how she's still living with you."

"Because she loves me, and I would die if she leaves me."

On the same note, a video of Oscar teasing Lando followed right after.

"Who's most likely to snore?" Lando read the question, and Oscar quickly put ut the cutout with Lando's face, "How are you so sure? You didn't even hesitate."

"Mate, I've heard you, plus your girlfriend literally complained about not being able to sleep properly last night because you kept snoring."

"I did keep her up last night, but it wasn't just because of the snoring," Lando said, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Put the not safe for work disclaimer at the beginning of this video please."

The next segment was from Lando's own Youtube channel, he was doing a little vlog in Miami before the race weekend.

"Hi everyone," he said, filming himself in the mirror with his camera, "Today I'm back with another LandoLog, I'm going to be filming some behind the scenes of this Miami weekend, so without further ado, let's go," he moved the camera around, focusing on his girlfriend who was putting some mascara on her eyelashes, "Here's my beautiful girl, who takes ages to get ready. Say hi baby."

"Hi everyone," his girlfriend waved, laughing, "I'm not taking ages, I'm just making sure I look good."

"You always look good for me," Lando said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek before turning the camera back to himself, "See, I told you she's the best."

The next clip showed Lando and Oscar together once again, this time they were giving a tour around the McLaren hub.

"This is my driver's room," Lando said as he opened the door, "It's cleaner than Oscar's, clearly, and looks like I have a bed."

Lando moved to put together the small bed that was behind the door, "This is an upgrade from last year, we didn't have this. I'll be definitely giving it some good use, to nap or with my girlfriend."

"Can we have a video where you're not a horndog please?" Oscar said, putting his hands on his hips.

"You're the horndog, I never said what we were going to use it for, we're just going to cuddle."

The video moved to show one of Lando's post race interviews after winning the Miami GP, he had been asked ho would be the most excited person about this win besides him.

"My girlfriend, definitely. I couldn't have done it without her," Lando said, his voice filled with emotion, "She's been my biggest supporter, my inspiration, and my motivation. This win is as much hers as it is mine."

The video then cut to a scene from Lando's gaming stream with Max Verstappen. The two drivers were deep into a game of Call of Duty, their banter and laughter filling the screen. Lando was focused, his eyes glued to the monitor as he coordinated with Max.

Just then, Lando's phone buzzed on the table beside him. He glanced at the screen and his expression softened, the comment section noticing, "Hey, mate, I need to go. My girl needs me for something," he said, setting down his controller.

"Lando! Are you serious right now?" Max said, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"I am, see ya," he turned to the camera, smiling not so apologetically "Sorry, guys, duty calls. See you next time."

The last scene was a snippet from an interview, Lando had been asked what he saw in his future.

He paused, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Honestly? I see a lot of racing, hopefully some championships," he laughed, "but most importantly, I see her. I can't imagine my life without her."

The screen faded to black, showing a text that read: Get you a man who is as down for you as Lando Norris is for his girlfriend.

[hatsbuckets]

Thinking about how price would do his best to be professional and stoic all the time, because of the mission... until he comes undone one day with the 141's affectionate little teammate...

Pairings: Price x Reader | TF141 x Reader (if you squint) Short Vers: Cutesy. Comfort. Flirty reader takin care of an injured Price. Literally just wanted to do something cute. WC: ~1700 Oops my hand slipped. Warnings: Canon typical violence-ish: severe leg injury, mention of blood

Price was used to you doting on the team—flirty comments tossed like grenades to break tension, soft kisses planted on cheeks when you thought they needed it most. It had become routine, a part of how you all coped with the relentless grind of the job. The boys, of course, lapped it up.

Soap practically thrived on it, leaning into your affection like a cat demanding more. “Oh, c’mon, give us another,” he’d tease, tapping his cheek with an exaggerated pout until you obliged, laughing at his antics. “Knew you couldn’t resist me, lass,” he’d quip, grinning ear to ear, his cheek still tingling from your touch.

Gaz was subtler about it, but the half-laugh, half-blush that lit up his face whenever you kissed his temple was all the evidence anyone needed. “You spoil us too much,” he’d say, shaking his head, though the warmth in his eyes betrayed how much he appreciated it. He’d never ask outright, but you noticed how he conveniently ended up in your orbit on the harder days.

And there was Ghost—well, Ghost didn’t protest. Not much, anyway. He’d stiffen slightly the first time you planted a quick kiss on the edge of his mask, murmuring something soft and teasing. You’d almost expected him to recoil or bark out a gruff warning, but instead, he’d let out a low huff, half-exasperated, half-resigned. Over time, the stiffness faded, and while he never sought your attention, he also never shied away from it. If anything, you started to catch the faintest shift in his body language, a subtle leaning toward you in those quiet, fleeting moments.

But Price? He was different. He kept his distance, the line between Captain and teammate drawn so firmly it might as well have been carved into stone. It wasn’t that he didn’t notice your affection—oh, he noticed. He saw the way Soap brightened under your banter, the way Gaz carried himself a little lighter after one of your quick, casual pecks. And he saw the way your touch had a way of pulling Ghost out of whatever dark corners he sometimes disappeared into.

He noticed it all, but he made damn sure none of it ever landed on him. Not because he didn’t want it, no—that was the real problem. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it. The idea of your warmth, your care, directed at him, even for a second? That was a vulnerability he couldn’t afford, not as your Captain.

So, when you flirted with him—and you did—he kept his reactions drawn. A grumble of “Focus,” if you were getting particularly cheeky. A muttered “Bloody hell,” paired with an eye roll when you’d wink in his direction with a half-lewd quip at his expense. He deflected it like incoming fire, always quick to push the moment away before it had a chance to stick. Never a crack in that armor. Not once.

Until he came back hurt.

The mission had gone sideways in a way that none of you could’ve predicted. A clean extraction turned into a chaotic firefight, and when the dust finally settled, Price had made damn sure every single one of his team made it out alive. But it wasn’t without cost.

The explosion had been too close, the deafening roar of it still echoing in his mind like an endless drumbeat. The searing heat and shrapnel tore through his leg before he even had a chance to register the pain. All he knew in the moment was the desperate need to keep you all moving, to ensure you made it to the evac point. His body screamed louder than the orders from his mouth.

By the time they reached the chopper, Price could barely stand. Blood soaked through his tactical pants, pooling beneath him as Soap and Ghost half-dragged, half-carried him aboard. His face was pale and tight with pain, his gruff voice reduced to sharp, pained grunts as the medics worked to stabilize him mid-flight.

You had been silent, and the team's usual banter was replaced with a heavy tension as you watched your Captain struggle to bite back a groan as medics worked. Despite their efforts, he wasn't conscious for long after you assured him you were all aboard and headed home. Soap had tried to lighten the mood, cracking a joke about how “the old man finally took a hit,” but it fell flat.

...

Price spent the first few days back on base confined to the medbay, his leg immobilized in a brace, stitches holding together what could barely be called a clean wound. The painkillers dulled the physical ache, but they did little for the simmering frustration underneath. He hated being sidelined, hated seeing the team tiptoe around him when you all visited--and you all visited frequently.

When they finally cleared him to return to his quarters, it was with strict orders to rest and lean on crutches—not that he’d been given much choice. Every step was a battle. Price had always been the one they could lean on when things went to hell. Now, he couldn’t even make it to the door without bracing himself against the walls.

He tried to keep up appearances, but the cracks were showing. The little things betrayed him—his jaw tightening when the pain flared, the way his hand trembled just slightly when he gripped his crutch too hard. And he hated it. Hated being stuck in his quarters, hated the helplessness that clawed at him every time he had to ask for something.

What he hated most, though, was how much he craved the comfort you offered. The way you lingered longer than the others, always making sure he was settled before you left. The softness in your voice when you asked if he needed anything, the gentle brush of your fingers against his arm when you adjusted a pillow or passed him his crutch. You were flirty all the time, sure, but this? This was care, raw and concerned. It was too much and not enough all at once, a lifeline he didn’t know how to reach for without breaking apart entirely.

You didn’t leave him much room to protest your hovering. It started small—a cup of coffee placed on his desk before he even thought to ask, the exact way he liked it. Then came the meals, arriving like clockwork, despite his grumbled insistence that he wasn’t helpless. You ignored the way his eyebrows knitted in irritation when you lingered, adjusting pillows or tugging the throw blanket over his lap when he’d shifted just a little too much and winced for it.

It wasn’t just the tasks, though. It was the quiet way you stayed, your presence filling the space. You didn’t push him to talk, didn’t pry, but you were there. And as much as Price told himself he didn’t need the comfort, as many times as he'd sent you away and to quit your worrying, he’d started to look for it—catching himself glancing at the door, wondering when you’d come back, feeling the silence more acutely when you weren’t around.

...

It was after one of those moments, late in the evening when the base was quiet. The day had dragged on longer than usual, and the ache in his leg had worsened, grinding at his patience. He didn’t ask for help as you guided him to the couch in his quarters, but he didn’t push you away, either. You’d taken one of the crutches and leaned it against the wall, leaving him with no option but to let you take the lead.

“Sit back, Captain,” you said softly, adjusting the cushions behind him. The teasing lilt in your voice was still there, but it was subdued, quiet earnestness that had started to unnerve him. “Relax a little.”

He grunted in response, settling back with a wince as you straightened the blanket over his lap. You stepped back, looking him over like you were assessing his comfort, and he swore he saw something flicker in your expression—hesitation, maybe. Or something deeper.

“That everything, Cap?” you asked, your voice low, softer than usual. The teasing note was still there, but it was almost... careful.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the cushions, moving his toes on his propped-up leg, his weariness in his words. “Yeah. That’s everything.”

But you didn’t leave. You stood there for a second, watching him like you wanted to say something else. Then, without a word, you stepped closer, leaning over him. Price froze, his breath catching as you bent slightly, your lips brushing against his forehead. It wasn’t the first time you’d done it, but something about this moment—the softness, the lingering touch—made his chest tighten.

“Get some rest, John,” you murmured, the way you said his name feeling like a balm he didn’t know he needed.

As you straightened, your hand brushed his, and before he could think better of it, his fingers closed around your wrist. You stilled, your eyes meeting his, wide and questioning. For a moment, the air shifted, warming yet frozen.

Price didn’t know what drove him—the exhaustion, the pain, or the quiet, gnawing need he’d buried for so long. Maybe it was all of it. But before he could stop himself, he tugged you forward, slow but deliberate, his other hand rising to cradle the side of your face.

His lips met yours. The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, but there was no mistaking the weight behind it. Gratitude, relief, and something—something raw and unyielding—poured into that single moment. He kissed you like a man letting himself feel for the first time in years, and when he finally pulled back, his cheeks were flushed beneath his beard, his breaths uneven.

“Should’ve done that ages ago,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, tinged with something that sounded suspiciously like regret.

You blinked at him, stunned, your lips still parted as if the words hadn’t quite reached you yet. Then, slowly, a grin broke across your face, soft and teasing. “What changed?”

He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back against the cushions. “You. You wore me down, love.”

And just like that, his walls crumbled.

[buckyalpine]

I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.

He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.

"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.

"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.

"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.

"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...

"I-

"For the stain"

"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.

"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...

"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.

"Good God"

"Jesus"

"You look fuckin' good terminator"

"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.

"Body shots!"

"What?"

"Yes"

Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.

"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"

He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.

"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-

"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.

"How much has he had to drink"

"Who cares, me next"

"I think you've licked enough of my husband"

"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"

"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"

"Blink twice if you need help"

"Bro looks like an angel"

"Why aren't you blinking"

"Crafted by the heavens"

"You like this, don't you"

Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.

[starshoyo]

YAKUZA’S WIFE ★

PAIRING Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!reader

WARNINGS Mention of violence

TAGS Wife AU, Yakuza Leader AU, possessive behavior, jealousy

IN WHICH Sakusa is the most feared yakuza leader in Japan, who would do anything for you, his wife. And sometimes, he tends to get a little jealous

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒/𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

THERE WERE UNWRITTEN rules in the yakuza business; an unspoken code of conduct that everybody in the industry followed. But there was one rule that was valued above every other rule: Don’t fuck with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

He was known as a calculated, wise man who did everything with complete and utter focus. All of the decisions he made were thought over a thousand times. He’s buried dozens of bodies with the precision of his gun, and his reputation was no exaggeration.

Anybody in the industry would know his name, and if they were smart, they knew to be loyal and keep their distance.

You meeting Sakusa was purely by chance. Graduating from culinary school, you opened up a small bakery in the city of Tokyo, unaware that the area was Sakusa’s turf. It was love at first sight, as cheeky as it sounds.

After buying the shop, you were struggling to keep your head above the water, drowning in debt from the culinary school and rent.

Any new shop on Sakusa’s turf meant he would have to check it out, and oh, is he glad he did. When he opened the door to your bakery and the bell rung, signaling his arrival, you ducked out from the kitchen, blessing him with an angelic smile.

He was struck with Cupid’s bow. How couldn’t he be?

After his fifth time at the bakery, he finally asked you out for dinner. Your cheeks had bloomed in red. You hadn’t expected the handsome regular to actually be interested in you. He had taken you to a restaurant that was worth your rent, and it was that day that you had found out he was unbelievably wealthy.

It was two months into dating that you found out that he was a yakuza leader.

To be honest, you noticed the small signs. His lawyer, Komori, always being present. His “secretaries”, Bokuto and Atsumu, constantly pulling him aside just to talk about work. Then Hinata, his employee, showing up with new bandages and bruises every week.

They were always in suits, and with Sakusa being so secretive about work, you always had a hunch. But it was when you were at work, selling bread as always.

Then clock had hit 7, and you decided to close for the night, knowing Sakusa would be here soon to pick you up to take you to dinner. A man had walked in, wearing shabby clothes and a hood over his face.

Before you could tell him the store was closed, he pulled out a pocket knife from his pocket, yelling at you to empty the register. You remember everything like a blur. You had been trembling like a newborn fawn, tears dripping down your cheeks as you slowly handed him the money.

Then the door opened again, and Sakusa was there in a second, his fist connecting to the man’s jaw with a smack so hard that you were sure something broke.

Sakusa was a calm man. He was almost emotionless, always monotonous and collected. But this was the first time you’ve seen him… furious. Atsumu, who usually drove them around, had stepped in after hearing the commotion, and had to haul Sakusa off of the man.

Later, at Sakusa’s penthouse, he had held you in his arms like you were fragile, murmuring a thousand apologies into your hair for keeping such a secret, and showing you such a scene. “I would never hurt you,” He promised, kissing your tears away.

That day only seemed like yesterday, despite it being two whole years ago. You were now married, over a year. Kiyoomi, you called him now. He was your loving husband, who was scary to the world but a big softie to you.

You had long quit that bakery, Kiyoomi practically begging you to let him take care of you. It took months for him to finally convince you to let him take care of your debt, and to move in with him. You were all against it at first, feeling horrible for using his money, but he truly insisted, and how could ever say no to him?

“Flower,” Kiyoomi called, a nickname he gave you. He held his hand out for you to take, and you smiled, letting him help you get out of the car. “Have a good night!” Atsumu yelled from inside the car. “Thanks, ‘Tsumu.” You quickly said, before shutting the door.

“You look beautiful as always.” Your husband hummed, placing a kiss to your cheek and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Only because you take such good care of me, Omi.” You told him, hand on his chest. He smiled, one of those small ones that only you could really notice.

Tonight was date night, dining at a hotel restaurant of Kuroo, a business partner who had just opened the grand luxury hotel. As Kiyoomi walked you into the hotel, you didn’t fail to notice the way employees ducked their head deeply, some holding their breaths.

This was another thing that had bothered you, at first, but now, it was the norm. The restaurant was absolutely gorgeous, bustling with people and jazz music being played live in the corner. “Oh, wow. Kuroo outdid himself.” You gasped. “Do you like it?” Sakusa asked, studying your face.

You absentmindedly nodded, still amazed at the architecture. “Then we’ll come here again, soon.” He promised.

A host walked up to the two of you. “Hello, do you have reservations?” It wasn’t uncommon for people not to recognize Kiyoomi. He nodded. “Yes, under Sakusa.” He said, his voice as monotonous as ever. The host repeated the name under his breath a couple times as he checked the list, before furrowing his brows.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re on the list here, sir. Are you sure you made a reservation?” The host raised an eyebrow, face full of doubt. From the corner of your eye, you saw your husband’s eye twitch in irritation. “Yes, we were invited by the owner of this hotel.” You answered instead, trying to cool the tension with a grin.

The host didn’t respond, looking to you, then at Sakusa, then back at the list with a sigh. This time, your eye twitched in irritation. Asshole. “Mr. Sakusa and Mrs. Sakusa, what a pleasure to have you here!” You heard a panicked voice boom, an older male rushing towards the both of you.

You checked the badge on his chest, reading “Floor Manager”. “The pleasure is ours.” You answered, leaning into your husband’s side with a smile. Kiyoomi only huffed. “Apparently, we don’t have a reservation.” Anybody could recognize the pure annoyance in his tone.

“Omi.” You warned. He looked away like a guilty child.

“It’s alright, we can come back another day.” You offered, but the manager shook his head furiously. “Nonsense! I’m sure it’s a fault in our system! We’ll get a table ready as soon as we can. Again, I apologize.” He bowed repeatedly. He then turned to the young host, gently smacking his arm.

“What the hell are you standing there for? Go get a table ready now.” He whisper yelled, rushing off with him. You were left with silence, the two of your staring at their retreating forms. “…I’m telling Kuroo about this.” Kiyoomi said, which translated to “I’m getting that host fired”.

You scowled, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “Oh, stop whining. We were able to get a table, so who cares?” You sighed, even though you were equally irritated with that ill mannered host.

Despite the incident with the reservations, your new host was awfully polite, the music calming, and the food tasting better than anything you’ve ever eaten. Despite being with him for over two years, you found yourself falling impossibly harder ever conversation.

During the course, Kuroo came out to greet the two of you as well, his catlike smile never changing. You knew Kuroo was just as involved with the yakuza industry as Sakusa, but in a different way.

When the night came to an end, you had headed to the bar on the other side of the restaurant, Kuroo saying that the drinks were on him in apology for the mix up with the reservations and staff.

“Order yourself a drink, I have to take a call from Komori.” Kiyoomi told you, pressing a firm kiss to your temple. “Alright.” You hummed, taking a seat on the stool.

He walked out, never missing the way his face completely changed into his business one. He walked out of the restaurant and into the hall, leaving you alone. “Hi, (Name).” You heard a familiar, quiet voice. You looked up, surprised to see Kenma working behind the bar.

“Oh, hi! I didn’t know you work here?” You grinned, leaning in. Kenma was a professional hacker who worked under Kuroo, who helped out Sakusa when it was necessary. He was quiet and introverted, but was surprisingly good company. “Only when I’m bored. Do you want something?”

You nodded. “A cranberry martini, please.” He nodded, moving around the bar to make you a drink. In the meantime, you pulled out your purse, powdering your face and touching up your makeup. There were less customers now, the lights dimmed than before to add to the ambience.

The upbeat New Orleans style jazz that was playing earlier has now turned into slow blues. There were only old couples and guests who have probably put their children to sleep. “Here.” Kenma slid your drink across the counter.

“Thanks.” You picked up the glass, taking a sip. You smiled at the taste, watching as Kenma disappeared to the other side of the long bar to wash some glasses. “Is it good?” You heard a new voice. You turned around, flinching at the stranger who was too close for your liking.

You looked him up and down, trying to figure out if he was a friend of Kiyoomi’s or purely an idiot trying to hit on you. “Get one yourself and find out.” Your words were unkind, and you turned back around, hoping he’d get the hint and leave.

“Aww, come on! Don’t be like that.” He laughed, taking a seat on the stool next to you. You wanted to groan in his face. You let out a silent sigh, before turning to face him. “Look, if you’re looking for company, you won’t find it here.” You told him, setting the martini down on the counter.

You glanced back at Kenma, who was oblivious to this stranger hitting on you. He was chatting with a customer, too busy to notice. You frowned. “Oh, why? Come on, let me buy you another drink.” The stranger insisted, leaning in. You blinked, face scrunching in disgust as you leaned away.

“No thank you. I’m married, alright?” He glanced at your hand, and sure enough saw the diamond ring. That didn’t seem to be enough to stop him, though. “Well, I don’t see your husband anywhere.” He chuckled.

“Turn around.” The voice was heavy and low. You looked past the man’s frame and saw your husband with an all too familiar look on his face. Furious.

“M-Mr. Sakusa!” The man squeaked pathetically, jumping out of the seat. You blinked in surprise. Wait, this guy knew him? “I- You- I didn’t know-” He stammered, slowly backing away. He flinched when his back hit the chest of someone new.

He slowly turned around, face to face with Kuroo, who tutted his tongue. “Now, this won’t do. Should I have a word with him for you, Sakusa?” Kuroo asked with his eyes still trained on the shorter male, obviously entertained. Kiyoomi put his hand on your lower back, motioning for you to stand up.

He grabbed your bag and your coat. “Yes. I’m leaving with my wife.” He said blatantly, and turned to stare at your forgotten martini as he walked you towards the exit. “But my drink.” You frowned.

“We have wine, flower.” He told you softly, his voice completely different from the bloodlust filled tone earlier. You didn’t miss the way he glared at the stranger as you passed by him.

You giggled. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.” You held his hand, and he immediately gripped back. “I’m not cute.” He rolled his eyes, acting annoying as if he didn’t love it. “Whatever you say, Omi.”

When you went back the next week, Kiyoomi keeping his promise of taking you back to the restaurant soon, you had noticed that the rude host was nowhere to be seen.

And according to Kenma, Kiyoomi had visited the hotel after you had fallen asleep that night you got hit on, and the stranger left looking like hell rained down on him.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

angel on his shoulder: meet cute? (op81)

mean!oscar x sweet!reader

summary: you shouldn’t even try to form a friendship with the austrailian driver, but you can’t help but want to

notes: so he’s not really mean, more standoffish and off-putting. but i hope you guys like the first part of this story 🥰

wc: 834

Unpleasant. That was the word used to describe Oscar most often in the paddock. He wasn’t necessarily terrible, as long as you didn’t bother him. He was known to give stern glares, and eye rolls with a sigh all too often.

He was entirely different from his teammate Lando. Lando who won over crowds with his charm and cheeky smile. Oscar never entertained crowds like Lando did. Sure, he did the press conferences, but only because they were mandatory. He was there to do one job, drive.

He was damn good at it too. Having won a sprint race in his rookie year, and his maiden win in his second, he was proud of his skills. He was happy to simply keep to himself, play nice for the cameras when he needed to, and drive.

That all changed the day you came into the MTC, trailing behind Lando. His steps were quick as he rambled on about something, talking animatedly with his hands. You followed behind him, holding what looked like a few folders and notebooks in your arms, occasionally nodding along to whatever Lando was saying.

You wore a papaya colored McLaren polo, the same he was. You must be a new employee. He kept an eye on you throughout the day, watching the way you followed Lando everywhere, practically attached to him at the hip.

He was gathering his things to leave at the end of the day when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He turned around to see you standing there, a shy smile on your face.

“Hi, I’m Y/n.” You stick your hand out to him, offering him a handshake. “I’m Lando’s new assistant, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

Oscar nods, shaking your hand. “Oscar.” He says.

You nod. “Yeah, you’re Lando’s teammate.” You wait for a reply, but don’t receive one. “I’ve seen a few of the races. You’re both very talented.”

“Thanks.”

You feel embarrassment creep up inside you at his apparent disinterest. “Uh, I should go, find Lando… It was nice meeting you, Oscar.” You don’t give him the chance to reply before turning away and leaving.

Oscar lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. Most people tended to leave him alone, and he preferred it that way. But you looked so soft and sweet, standing there, even complimenting his driving. It was all too tempting for Oscar. You were too tempting.

You leave Oscar standing there to walk back over to Lando, who had his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face.

“I told you he wasn’t friendly.”

You shake your head. “Just because he keeps to himself doesn’t mean he’s not friendly.” You look back over at him as he finishes gathering his things. “I’ll be his friend in no time.” You stuck your nose up at Lando.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

Oscar tried to keep his distance from you, genuinely, but he couldn’t help but feel a pull towards you.

He spent his days stealing glances at you during meetings, and watching you as you shuffled through paperwork for Lando.

You started small, slowly seeping into his routine. You would offer him a coffee in the morning, claiming they accidentally made two, and that the last thing Lando needed was caffeine. Then there was the day that you baked cookies for the team. You put them all in a bowl and left them on a counter in the breakroom for anyone to grab. You knew Oscar wouldn’t take any, so you bagged him a few, and left them with his things.

He remembers the day you really planted yourself in his life. You stood next to the table he was sitting at, a bag of takeout in your hands.

“Could I sit with you, Oscar?” You ask.

Oscar looks up at you, then glances around the room. All the other tables are filled with people, chatting or working, but it seemed the only one available was the one he sat at. He tries not to feel too insecure that his table was the only one no one else wanted to sit at.

“Yeah, sure.” He nods.

You smile as you sit down in the seat next to him, rather than the one across from him.

He quietly watches as you unpack your food, making yourself comfortable.

“How was the sim today?” You ask.

Oscar shifts in his seat. “Good.” He nods.

“Lando says that he’s confident going into next weekend.”

“Lando’s confident going into every weekend.” The corners of his lips turn up, just slightly, enough to hint at a smirk.

“Is that a smile? From Oscar Piastri?” You ask, your own smile on your face.

Oscar flushes a bit at your words, attempting to stutter out a reply.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” You give him a wink.

Oscar feels a shift with you then and there, a longing to keep you close like this, and he knows he is well and truly fucked.

next part

[laro80]

KIRYU AS YOUR BOYFRIEND — PART 1

— He has a strange but adorable obsession with your cheeks

Ever since he first saw you, he hasn’t dropped this habit. From the moment you two started getting to know each other — and especially once you became a couple — as soon as he got comfortable around you (which didn’t take long), he hasn’t stopped poking and squishing your cheeks like dough for making bread.

He does it every chance he gets. Doing homework? Cheeks. Watching a movie? Cheeks. Eating? Still cheeks.

“Mitsu, I’m busy” you frowned, glancing at him from the corner of your eye as you worked on some burgers.

“And…? Your hands are still free to cook” he let out a mischievous laugh while reaching out to touch your cheek, leaning casually against the counter.

You sighed and rolled your eyes “You know what I mean!”

“You can’t ask for the impossible!” he whined before cupping your face with both hands and gently turning your head to make you look at him “Your cheeks are just so squishy and soft!”

— He probably knows more about skincare and makeup than you do, and he takes really good care of your skin

On social media, he gets tons of videos about makeup tips and skincare products that are perfect for maintaining healthy skin.

Kiryu doesn’t hesitate to try them out — but only after making sure they’re safe and checking all the comments for reviews.

Every now and then, when you're spending a lazy afternoon at your place, he’ll show you the tutorials he found (always simple but pretty looks, often featuring soft pastel tones).

And every night you spend together, you two do a full skincare routine — creams, masks, cleansers — everything. He helps you through it all.

“Oh! It’s pink and has little watermelon slices on it!” you exclaimed with sparkles in your eyes as you pulled the new mask out of the bag “And it smells like watermelon too!”

Kiryu smiled, watching you through the mirror’s reflection.

“I knew you’d like it” he said as he finished applying his own mask and then turned to face you. “Come here, I’ll help you put it on” he added gently, brushing strands of your hair aside and clipping them back with care.

— He doesn’t like seeing you in a bad mood or serious, so he has a peculiar way to make you smile

I mean, who likes seeing their partner truly upset, especially if it’s because of a joke? No one, obviously. And sometimes it’s hard to get your partner to talk and forgive you. But Kiryu? Kiryu doesn’t just stand there with his arms crossed.

The moment he sees your bottom lip pout and your brow slightly furrowed, he pounces on you to attack with… tickles!

“Sweetie, why won’t you talk to me?” he asked for the third time while you turned your back to him, arms crossed. “Come on… talk to me…” he insisted, trying to turn you around but failing “Is it because I said you’re terrible at the game? You know I’m not serious!”

You didn’t answer. Kiryu sighed, looking defeated. Or so you thought.

His hands hovered near your ribs without touching them, and before you knew it, you were laughing uncontrollably as his fingers found your most ticklish spots. “Hey! No! Stop! STOP!” you begged seconds later, both of you on the floor — him on top, you beneath “Okay! OKAY, ALRIGHT, ALRIIGHTTT!!!”

He stopped when he was satisfied, seeing your frown had disappeared. Looking at you with intense but loving eyes, he made you blush.

“Feeling better now?” he asked softly, a sweet but cheeky smile playing on his lips. “I really like it when your cheeks are red” and he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

— He loves you in many ways, but kissing your hand is his favorite language

Kiryu loves showing you affection — whether it’s through little gestures, small gifts, actions, or words. But if there’s something he does over and over, almost without thinking, it’s kissing your hand.

Anytime you’re holding hands — whether you're talking, walking, or just sitting in comfortable silence — he gently lifts your hand to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles. He doesn’t announce it, and he’s not trying to get your attention. He does it like it’s second nature, like your hand has a magnetic pull for his affection.

Sometimes he does it with a faint smile, sometimes without even looking at you, but always with that tender gesture that says more than words ever could.

You were walking through the streets after spending the afternoon together, just enjoying the last moments of daylight before the night arrived. You were telling him a story — something that had happened to you earlier that day — and he was listening intently.

That’s when you felt him take your hand, gently intertwine his fingers with yours, and lift it toward his face to press a sweet, soft kiss against it.

Even though he had done it countless times before, it still caught you off guard. And when you turned to look at him, he was already watching you — that gentle smile on his lips making your cheeks flush warm.

[I wanted to draw Kiryu for this post but I don't have timeeee. I have it but in sketch, it's not finished]

[yawnderu]

cr: @ave661

Simon wasn't a stupid man. He always knew better, knew to look between the lines even when you tried your best to be deceiving. Even then, the pure rejection you showed to your newborn baby was something not even the best actress could hide. Refusing to hold her after she was born and fully shutting down on Simon, screaming at him whenever he tried to offer any sort of help and support, only getting worse if he ever tried to approach you while holding the baby.

Post-partum depression is no joke, Simon realized after doing his own research, only then realizing just how bad it can get after accidentally stumbling on article upon article of mothers getting to the point of harming their own child. You weren't like that— Simon liked to convince himself despite the growing pit of dread in his stomach, anxiety seeping out of every pore of his body when even months later you refused to hold or interact with the baby.

It all came crashing down after he came back from deployment, the nanny holding his daughter while soothing her with calm words, doing her best to console the crying infant despite the tears falling down her cheeks when she confessed to him that you're gone.

Gone without a trace, at first. Simon wasted no time using his connections to know where you were. Laswell was the most helpful, giving him all the details of the help center you were in, yet even then, Simon didn't reach out first in fear of messing up your progress, not wanting to add more stress to your situation when you were trying to get better.

Four years. For four years, Simon's life was divided in deployments and taking care of his daughter at home, never once thinking about moving on, always asking Laswell for updates— updates she was glad to give him using her own connections, wanting to give Simon some peace of mind even if it went against the rules.

“It's okay.” Simon reassured his daughter, his long sleeves wet with cola that she spilled from her little cup. His home was the complete opposite of the absolute hell he grew up in, not allowing himself to scream, hit, or take out his frustration on the little carbon copy of himself sitting on the couch.

“'M sorry, daddy.” Her sweet voice made the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, taking off his sweater and putting it away, wasting no time on grabbing a towel to clean up the now sticky mess of coke on the table.

“It's okay, love. Jus' don't tip it, 's gonna spill.” She gave him a small salute in understanding, a cheeky grin on her lips when she saw him holding in his laughter, knowing fully well she's copying him— as usual.

The doorbell ringing got Simon's full attention, giving his daughter one last look before he went to answer. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw your shorter figure waiting for him, purposely making yourself smaller like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, a small folder held in your hands. You're both quiet for what seems like forever, the only sounds coming from your daughter in the living room, the TV displaying a kid's show Simon put on.

“I'm so so—” You don't even have the chance to finish your sentence before you're being pulled into a tight hug, Simon's burly arms wrapping around your body, every single second spent missing you, secretly hoping you'd come back one day crashes down on him the moment he feels your arms wrap around his waist, holding him as tight as possible, as if he'd disappear if you don't hold onto him for dear life.

“I got better.” You whisper into his ear, rubbing his back soothingly when he doesn't let go of you. Not yet— not when the love of his life is finally back after years. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before his face goes back to burying in the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar scent.

It takes minutes for Simon to finally let go, hesitation clear in his actions as he looked down at you, keeping one hand on your waist in silent fear of you seeping through his fingers. The folder in your hand gets his attention, giving you a questioning look before you offer it to him, managing to give him a small smile of reassurance despite all the anxiety and fear.

“My psychotherapist wrote it. It's... just a paper that shows the progress I've made from her perspective.” You stand awkwardly as he reads the document, taking in every single word written by the woman who has been helping your for four long years. You can hear your daughter giggling at the TV show, only making the anxiety in your stomach grow more by the second.

To your surprise, Simon steps out of the way to allow you into the home he created, his safe haven. Nothing changed from the last time you were here, other than toys scattered all over the place, likely from Simon being too busy bonding with his daughter to even clean.

You can see the little girl sitting on the couch as you walk closer, her brown eyes fully focused on the screen until she hears something from behind her. She's so much bigger now, looking like a tiny carbon copy of Simon, down to the little skull-patterned pajamas she was wearing.

She turns around after seeing you from the corner of her eye, her little face lighting up into a toothy grin as she jumps from the couch, sprinting towards you as fast as her little legs allow her to.

“Mommy!” You crouch down to her height out of pure instinct, almost being knocked off balance when she crashes into you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. The fact that Simon never stopped talking about you to her and kept your pictures warms your heart, being as delicate as possible as you hug her back.

“Y'look so pretty.” She has Simon's accent, making you let out a small laugh before looking down at her, cupping her cheek just to examine her features better.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You're glad for the way she cuddles up to you again, not bothering to hide the tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer love displayed by the same girl you left four years ago. Your gaze drifts up to Simon, whose eyes are glossier than usual despite the fact that he's not shedding a tear. He gives you a small nod in acknowledgement, not daring to look away from the heartwarming scene in front of him.

“Daddy talks a lot about you.” She whispers into your ear, covering her mouth as if she's telling you the biggest secret ever. You giggle at the little gossiper, your warm hand running up and down the length of her hair.

“He does?” You whisper back, giving Simon a cheeky look at the admission, one of his thin eyebrows raising when he sees your daughter nod her head vigorously, giggling as she looks at Simon.

“Well, I'm sure he talks a lot about you too.” The pure forgiveness that comes from both of them drowns the guilt, if only for a short while.

“You're such a pretty princess.” Your arms wrap around her again, rocking her softly from side to side, allowing yourself to take in their love. It doesn't take long for Simon's resolve to falter, dropping to his knees and wrapping his burly arms around his girls protectively, planting a little kiss on your forehead.

Despite everything, there's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.

Dad!Ghost Masterlist

[nousporix]

i need to know, after some time i feel like anaxa will warm up to reader, and wouldnt it be nice if reader was aloof but warm and gentle, im just picturing a scenario where reader is as independent as anaxa is, but when anaxa seeks them out, they always indulge him with open arms. i was wondering if you could write a small scenario abt that? man i live for fluffy moments of understanding 😌🙏

(hows ur day been so far? love your works!!)

gasps.. clutches my pearls... this is my first request in years, oh my goodness.. (/pos) i'm currently on the train omw home from work, so i can't guarantee perfection, but this is a really sweet idea, so i'll do my best! ♡

contrary to popular belief, anaxagoras does not have a short temper. he is passionate, opinionated, steadfast and stubborn, but very slow to anger. others do have to tread lightly whenever breaching the topic of the divine with the professor, but otherwise, he is patient. objective, perhaps, but patient all the same.

that said, professor anaxagoras seemed a bit touchy today. the students of the grove often gossiped amongst themselves during what little down time they have, and on more than one occasion, you've heard several of them complaining about how strict the infamous professor was being today. according to them, he wasn't listening to any explanations, outright denying one-on-one meetings, and snapping at students for the smallest offenses.

it'd be concerning if you didn't know the professor so well. wherever anaxagoras goes, hyperbole is bound to follow. there's probably some truth to their claims; he's not above doing any of those things, after all. but with everything in this world, there's always more than meets the eye. (literally.)

after listening to the complaints of one too many nousporist students during their tutoring sessions, you decided that you would pay the professor a visit once your schedule cleared up for the day. you still had plenty of paperwork to get through – grading and transcribing the day's debates were on the agenda – but you leaned over and scribbled a quick note to yourself to drop by in a few hours.

but fate had different plans. after meticulously combing through your paperwork for about an hour, a light rapping at the door steals your attention. irritation pricks at you. you definitely put a sign on your door that said you were out and wouldn't be back until much later — it's a lie, but it guarantees that no one will distract you. yet the person on the other side knocks again, disregarding the sign. you heave a sigh. either the student can't read, they're having an emergency, or—

"it's me."

you set down your writing utensil immediately and head over to your door. you'd recognize that voice anywhere. "professor anaxagoras," you breathe the name of the man before you. "how can i—?"

anaxa doesn't greet you. he walks into your office and stands at your bookshelf, browing your catalogue for something that piques his interest. "haven't you anything new?" he asks.

you follow his actions with your eyes. "you already know the answer, professor," you say. "you ask this every time you stop by."

in spite of this, he reaches up and strokes the spine of a book bound by dromas leather. he pulls it free and begins to leaf through it with a practiced hand. "there is always a chance that something new might appear." content with his choice of book, he makes his way over to the chaise lounge near the window and makes himself comfortable. after a few seconds of skimming the pages, his eye flicks up towards you. "are you simply going to watch me from over there?" he asks.

you blink at him briefly before a smile brightens your face. "are you inviting me to join you, professor?" you tease.

anaxa blinks back. "are you going to keep referring to me as professor behind closed doors?"

you glance at the door. "technically, it's still open."

"cheeky today, are we?"

"furthermore, shouldn't i be the one inviting you to join me? this is my office, after all."

perhaps your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you think you see the corners of anaxa's lips twitch. "come and sit," he says. as you allow the door to click shut, you hear him add a soft, "please."

not one to deny him anything, you cross the room and stand in front of him. you don't want to sit just yet — you're curious about the rumors surrounding his behavior today. "professor—" you start, but a sharp glance from him makes you correct yourself. "anaxa," you begin again. "were you bullying your students today?"

he closes the book around his index finger so as to not lose his place. "when have i ever done such a thing?"

"a few nousporist students had quite a lot to say about you." you smile down at him as he tilts his head up to see you better. "your reputation precedes you."

"i'm aware." now that you're really listening to him, you can hear something akin to annoyance coloring his words. when you point it out, he shuts his eye and begins to explain. "if criticizing the work of my students and prioritizing my research counts as bullying, then yes, i suppose i was."

you bark a laugh. "i wasn't expecting you to admit it."

anaxa scoffs and begins to frown. "i'm not so immature as to deny that i was... a bit more stern today than usual."

"and why might that be?"

he doesn't answer right away. instead, his expression smooths out as he gazes at you in silence. then, "how long has it been since we've had alone time like this?" he asks.

the question takes you by surprise. you press your thumb between his brows gently, your heart skipping when he closes his eye peacefully. "it's been a while," you reply. and now that you're really thinking about it, it has been a while, hasn't it? living with the professor doesn't necessarily mean that you see each other often, what with the two of you working late hours. you put extra care into your lesson plans while anaxa could spend days in his lab. these days you've been kept apart by the coming end of the semester; anaxa's been busy drafting review seminars and you've been swamped by his overwhelmed students, each of them desperate for extra guidance that he refused to give. in short, you haven't had much time for one another lately.

wait a minute. you cup his face with one hand. "anaxa," you call him.

anaxa's gaze never leaves yours as he leans into your touch ever so slightly, the gesture leaving you breathless. "yes, my dear." he brings his hand up to cover yours. "i'm right here."

you have to bite your lip to contain yourself. "were you upset today because you haven't seen me in a while?" you ask.

under normal circumstances, anaxa would be offended at such a ridiculous accusation. the great blasphemer himself would never be so undignified as to snap at others because he craved the attention of his beloved. and yet he doesn't snap at you — not a single denial leaves his lips. instead, he turns and presses a feather-light kiss against the inside of your wrist. his lips linger over your pulse, where he can surely feel the rapid thrumming under your skin. your beloved silently peers at you, examining you closely from where he sits.

only when he moves again to put his cheek in your hand do you feel it: the heat that wasn't there before.

(not a single soul would believe you if you told them about this. the pompous performer, the great scholar anaxagoras himself petulantly snapped at everyone around him becauss he hadn't spent time with his lover in a long time.)

rather than tease him, you lean down and kiss at his flushed face, chuckling when he mutters a weak protest. "i missed you too," you say between kisses. "i missed you very much, anaxa."

anaxa says nothing in response. you can only assume his latent embarrassment has rendered him speechless. he makes no move to push you away; anaxa brings his hand up to halt your movements, bringing his forehead to yours. a silent request for a proper kiss, you recognize. you indulge him, kissing him sweetly. the kiss is slow, something the two of you are grateful for.

when you part, anaxa whispers, "sit with me."

and who are you to deny him?

i'm so nervous.. i haven't done this in such a long time.. i'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you asked for/is kinda ooc, i just got kinda carried away;; i really hope you like this, anon 🥺

[jkwrites-m]

Begin Again

Bonus Chapter - Another Time

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

Genre: soulmates, past life, smut, fluff

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: In a life gifted by second chances, love becomes gentler, deeper, and destined to grow.

Warnings: MDNI, Explicit, 18+, smut, fluff, emotional confessions/vows, pregnancy, soft, crying, healing, labor (not graphic), cursing, mentions of death, breastfeeding, wedding, explicit: kissing, cuddling, couch sex, missionary, soft doggy, oral (f. & m. receiving), unprotected sex, multiple smut scenes, fingering, breast play, body worship, jk loves titties 😭

A/N: so someone asked for a bonus chapter (sequel??) and i wanted to make sure i hit everything 🫶

ANOTHER TIME ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

═══════

y/n’s pov:

Five months felt like a lifetime.

And no time at all.

There was something surreal about planning a wedding with someone who already felt like my husband. I knew what it was like to lose him. I knew what it was like to grieve a future we were supposed to have.

So maybe that’s why I wasn’t the bride who lost her mind over calligraphy or napkin textures.

All I wanted was a quiet place, a soft dress, and him waiting for me at the end of the aisle.

Still… someone had to plan the damn thing.

“I swear if you don’t pick a venue this week, I’m gonna marry him myself,” Nayeon teased, flipping through Pinterest photos beside me on the couch.

“I already offered,” Taehyung called from the kitchen. “Jungkook turned me down. Tragic, really.”

“Let it go, Tae,” Jimin said flatly.

I laughed and leaned my head on Nayeon’s shoulder, sipping from my iced lavender tea. “I have a venue. It’s just… more of a place than a venue.”

Nayeon raised an eyebrow. “Okay, mysterious.”

“The cove,” I said softly. “Where he proposed. Where we went that day, before anything bad began.”

The room went still for a moment.

Then Nayeon smiled- not her usual cheeky grin, but something gentler. “That’s perfect.”

═══════

Later that night, after everyone left and Jungkook was curled into my side in bed, I scrolled through dresses on my phone- not big, sparkly ones. Just soft shapes. Linen. Silk. Flowy silhouettes.

“Do you want to be surprised?” I asked, voice low in the dark.

“About what?” he murmured, half-asleep.

“What I’ll wear.”

“I already know you’ll be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled into his chest. “That’s not an answer.”

“Then yes. Surprise me,” he whispered, kissing my hair. “But I hope you wear bare feet. You’re always prettiest when you’re grounded.”

My heart thudded.

I nodded into his skin and whispered, “Okay.”

═══════

Three days later, I booked the permits for the beach. We’d marry there in mid October-  when the sky turned amber early and the air was still warm enough to hold us.

I flew my parents and Riley in from home, just like I’d always dreamed- quiet arrival, tearful hugs, long overdue introductions. They loved Jungkook instantly. Of course they did. He made coffee for my dad and cried when my mom told him he was already family.

I didn’t need a huge wedding.

I had him.

And he was already everything.

═══════

The night before I went dress shopping alone, I couldn’t sleep.

I watched the moonlight trace the shape of his collarbone and thought: This man watched me die, screaming my name when he couldn’t move. And now he gets to watch me live.

How do you prepare vows for someone like that?

How do you pick a dress when you already feel like a bride just from lying next to him?

I didn’t know.

But I knew I didn’t want a crowd.

I wanted air and waves and salt in my hair. I wanted sand beneath my toes and my heart in his hands. I wanted something soft. Something that felt like the opposite of survival- something that felt like beginning.

So when I walked into the boutique the next day, I skipped the racks of satin and sparkle and went straight to the corner with the linen, the chiffon, the long trailing skirts that whispered more than they shouted.

It took thirty minutes.

I found it without even trying: a sleeveless ivory gown that gathered at my waist and fell in gentle ripples to the floor. No beading. No corset. Just the feeling of wind and water and warmth stitched into fabric.

I twirled once in front of the mirror.

And in my mind, I could already see him.

Smiling.

Waiting.

═══════

Later that night, Jungkook helped me hang twinkle lights across our little balcony. We were sitting on a blanket beneath them, sipping chilled wine, barefoot and tired, but happy.

I leaned against his shoulder, twirling the ring on my finger.

“Five months,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said. “Feels close and far at the same time.”

“You nervous?”

“Only about not crying like a baby when I see you walking toward me.”

“You cried when I bought soy milk last week.”

“It was organic. I got overwhelmed.”

I snorted and elbowed him gently.

He turned and kissed my temple.

“You’re really marrying me, huh?” he said, voice softer.

“I already did,” I replied. “In every version of us. This one’s just for keeps.”

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I’d rewritten the first line six times.

I stared at the page, ink smudged at the edge from where my palm kept dragging over it. The notebook sat open in front of me on the coffee table, untouched for almost twenty minutes. My pen rested against the back of my knuckles, unmoving. Useless.

I couldn’t find the words.

It wasn’t that I didn’t feel them.

It’s that I felt them too much.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Not just the woman in our house who wore my hoodie to bed and kissed me behind half-open refrigerator doors- I saw all of her.

I saw the version of her that fell asleep beside me in a backyard under the stars when we were kids.

I saw the one who said my name while bleeding out onto the floor.

I saw the one who didn’t recognize me when I begged her to remember.

And I saw her now.

Softer. Whole. Full of light again.

How do you put that into vows?

How do you write a promise when you’ve already broken it once- not by choice, but by fate?

I scribbled down a sentence and scratched it out before the ink dried.

Then I put my head in my hands and exhaled hard through my nose.

I didn’t cry.

Not yet.

═══════

The apartment was quiet. Y/N had gone out with Nayeon for a final wedding errand- something about ankle bracelets and sea glass placeholders and I’d stayed home, pretending I was going to be productive.

Instead, I was just sitting here.

Surrounded by silence.

And trying not to fall apart.

I walked to the kitchen, poured a glass of water, and stared out the window for a few minutes.

How many times had I imagined this day?

Too many.

But I never imagined the part where I had to condense lifetimes into a speech. To find a way to say, “I’ve loved you in every version of this story, and this is the one I want to keep.”

I leaned on the counter and said it aloud, just to try it out.

It echoed strangely. Almost too quiet.

Eventually, I sat down again.

Turned the page.

Took a breath.

And started writing from the place that hurt.

“I thought love was something you waited for, but you taught me it’s something you fight for.”

Then the next.

“I’ve met you more times than I can count. I’ve held you, lost you, chased you, and almost given up on you. But in every version of time, every cracked mirror of the life we never got to finish- I still loved you.”

The pen moved faster now.

“You didn’t remember me when we began again. But I remembered you. And I loved you enough to find you anyway.”

I could feel it-  that pull behind my eyes. The one that always came before tears.

But I didn’t stop.

“I won’t ask you to promise forever, because we’ve already had too many to count. But I’ll promise you this: I will love you in this life- in the boring hours, in the loud fights, in the quiet mornings. I will love you when your hair turns silver and your hands are lined with time. I will love you when we forget what day it is. I will love you when we remember.”

I stared at the last line for a long time.

And then I whispered into the quiet:

“I never got to say it when you died.”

A beat.

“But I’ll say it now and every day after.”

I closed the notebook and sat in the silence.

Heart full. Hands trembling.

Finally ready.

═══════

y/n’s pov:

The sky opened soft for us that day.

There were no clouds. No gusts of wind to tangle my hair or pull at the veil I decided not to wear. Just the kind of golden light that made everything look like it had been kissed by memory.

I stood barefoot in the sand, holding my dress in one hand so it wouldn’t drag in the tide. My heart beat in my throat- steady, certain, not from nerves… but from wonder.

This is happening.

The man who once felt like a dream was waiting just beyond the driftwood arch we built ourselves. He was laughing quietly with Taehyung, who was fixing his tie, while Nayeon flitted around me, making sure my curls weren’t falling too flat and that my bouquet of dried wildflowers was still in one piece.

My mom sniffled into a tissue from a few feet away. My dad had cried the second I stepped out of the car.

But I didn’t feel overwhelmed.

I felt ready.

Like every moment before this had been training for this one.

And now the world was holding its breath with me.

═══════

The walk down the “aisle” - really just a worn path of smoothed stones and flower petals- felt slow in the best way. Time didn’t speed up. No music rushed me along.

I walked.

And Jungkook waited.

He stood at the edge of the ocean, barefoot too, hair a little messy, wearing a light tan suit with the sleeves rolled up and his heart written all over his face.

When our eyes met, I felt the air shift.

Like even the sea had remembered us.

“You’re stunning,” he whispered when I reached him.

“You look like a dream,” I whispered back.

We both laughed softly, holding hands as the sun dipped just enough to set the water glowing.

The ceremony was short.

Taehyung officiated, because of course he did. He made jokes that had us both smiling through tears and then gave us the quiet space to say the things that mattered.

Jungkook’s hands were shaking as he pulled the paper from his pocket.

He looked at me- then folded it shut.

“I don’t need this,” he said, voice thick. “I just need to look at you.”

I cried before he even started.

His voice broke more than once, but his words were whole. Every vow, every promise, carried the weight of everything we’d survived. He promised to love me in this life, not just the ones we lost. He promised to stay. To laugh. To listen. To be mine.

I wanted to kiss him before it was even my turn.

And when it was my turn, I spoke every word clearly:

“You were in my dreams before I ever knew your name. In shadows of memories that didn’t belong to this life. In feelings I couldn’t explain- until you said my name like you’d already said it a thousand times.

And you had.

We’ve lived so many lives, Jungkook. We’ve loved through so much pain. And even when I didn’t remember… I still felt you. Even when I screamed at you to leave… my heart was begging you to stay.

You are not my beginning. 

You are not my end.

You are my constant.

In every version of me, I love you. And in this one, the one where I get to wake up beside you, where we don’t die before the happy part, I vow to keep choosing you. Every day. Every version.

I vow to fight for us even when it’s not romantic. To laugh with you when life gets heavy. To remind you who you are when you forget. And to hold your hand through every ordinary miracle we’re lucky enough to live.

Jungkook, you were worth every lifetime it took to find you.

And I promise- in this life, I’m not going anywhere.”

When they said “You may now kiss the bride,” we didn’t hesitate.

The kiss wasn’t perfect.

It was messy and salty and full of tears.

But it was real.

And it was ours.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I used to think peace was a destination.

Something you found after running long enough. Surviving enough.

But lying here in this sun-drenched bed beside her- sand still in my hair, the faint scent of coconut oil on her skin- I realized it was never about getting to something.

It was about getting back to her.

She was peace.

Y/N’s back rose and fell with each slow breath, her arm draped across my stomach. Her cheek pressed against my chest like it was home. The light curtain in the little villa we rented fluttered in the wind, casting moving shadows across the room.

We hadn’t spoken much since last night.

We didn’t have to.

After the wedding, after the laughter, after the tear-streaked toasts and barefoot dancing in the sand, we slipped away. Into this quiet.

A private cove just outside the island village. No tourists. No noise. Just water, wind, and each other.

And the occasional gecko that stared at me from the ceiling.

But even he was chill.

I turned my head to look at her.

Y/N was still half-asleep, her lips parted just slightly, hair tangled across her cheek. My thumb brushed over her knuckles, and she stirred, murmuring something soft I couldn’t make out.

“I didn’t know I could be this happy,” I whispered, not sure if I was talking to myself or her or the stars.

Because it was true.

There was a time when happiness felt like a dangerous thing to want. Like every time I reached for it, the world would slap it out of my hands.

But not now.

Now I was married to the girl who used to visit my dreams when I was too young to understand why my heart hurt.

And she was real.

So was the gold band on my finger.

So was this bed.

So was this life.

═══════

Later that morning, we sat on the edge of a private dock that reached into the shallows. Our legs dangled in the water, toes occasionally brushing, and we passed a piece of pineapple back and forth like it was treasure.

Y/N was in a white bikini and sunglasses that slid down her nose. She had a towel wrapped around her waist and sea spray tangled in her hair.

“I still don’t believe yesterday was real,” she said, biting into the fruit. “Did we actually do that?”

“We did,” I said, grinning. “You cried first, by the way.”

“Barely.”

“Three minutes into my vows.”

“That’s because you started with ‘I thought love was something you waited for, but you taught me it’s something you fight for.’ What am I, made of stone?”

I laughed. “I just call it like I see it.”

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, slow and soft.

And even though we’d kissed a thousand times by now, this one still burned sweet.

We spent the afternoon under a palm tree.

No phones. No plans.

She read from a dog-eared novel. I wrote little phrases in a journal I kept secret- future lyrics, letters, things I didn’t know how to say out loud yet.

She dozed off beside me, head on my shoulder.

And I… just watched her.

There was a moment, sometime between sunset and dinner, when I looked at her over a candlelit table and something clicked.

A feeling I hadn’t expected yet.

She was laughing about something dumb (probably the way I almost tripped over a crab) and I looked at her, and this thought echoed through me like a heartbeat:

I want to have a family with her.

Not just a wedding.

Not just a home.

A future.

Tiny hands. Little socks on a laundry line. A child with her smile and my wild heart.

It wasn’t something we’d talked about yet.

But I knew, in that second, that it lived in me now. That quiet wanting.

Not from pressure.

Not from fear.

But from love.

So much love it had to grow somewhere.

That night, she curled into me under the thin sheets and whispered, “This is my favorite version of us.”

I kissed her forehead.

And smiled in the dark.

Because mine was still coming.

═══════

Peace has a sound.

I didn’t know that until now.

It sounds like her slow, sleepy breathing against my chest. The rhythm of the tide outside our villa. The crinkle of linen sheets when she shifts slightly in her sleep.

It sounds like home.

The air in the room is warm. Not hot-  just sun-soaked and still. Her leg is tangled over mine, bare skin brushing bare skin, and I trace slow circles on her back while the ceiling fan spins above us.

This wasn’t a fairytale.

This was real. Intimate. Quiet. The beginning of forever.

I kiss her shoulder gently, and she stirs with a soft hum.

“You’re awake?” she murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

Her words pull me from the trance I’ve been in, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the way her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheeks. I’ve been lying here for what feels like hours, just studying her, memorizing the way the morning light spills across her skin.

“Mmhmm,” I nod against her skin, “watching you breathe.”

She laughs quietly, blinking slowly up at me. “Creep.”

“Handsome creep,” I correct, rolling her gently onto her back. 

Her hair spills across the pillow, a cascade against the white sheets. Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer, and I can feel her heartbeat against my chest. It’s steady, calm, like she’s exactly where she’s meant to be.

“You’re definitely winning Husband of the Year.” she teases, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.

I dip my head and kiss her collarbone. “Starting strong.”

The kiss turns into two. Then three. Then lower.

Her fingers tangle in my hair, and her breath catches when I take my time. I let my lips graze the swell of her breast, the curve of her ribs, the soft dip of her stomach.

I’m slow. Intentional.

We have all night. All week. All our lives.

But I want this one. This moment. 

Right now.

I glance up at her, and her eyes are already on me- wide, glassy, trusting.

“I love you,” I whisper, voice catching in my throat.

She brushes a thumb across my cheek. “Then show me.”

Her skin is soft beneath my palms, familiar yet sacred. Every touch feels like a prayer, every kiss a promise. I move between her legs deliberately slow, like I’ve waited lifetimes for this- because I have. 

Her breath hitches as I press my lips to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, my hands resting gently on her hips. I can feel her trembling, just slightly, and it sends a jolt of desire straight through me.

I take my time, letting my lips graze her, my tongue tease her, my breath ghost across her most intimate places. She tastes like heaven, like home, like everything I’ve ever wanted. 

I’m living for this, for the way her body arches off the bed, for the way her fingers dig into my shoulders, for the way her voice breaks when she moans my name.

"Jungkook… please…" she pants, her legs falling open wider, inviting me in.

I don’t rush. I savor. I worship. My tongue circles, flicks, plunges, every movement deliberate, every sensation amplified. Her body tightens beneath me, her muscles coiling like a spring, and then she shatters. Her cry is soft, broken, beautiful, and I drink it in, holding her through the waves of her release.

When she finally goes limp, I kiss my way back up her body, my heart pounding in my chest. Her eyes are closed, her chest heaving, and I can’t help but smile. 

"You’re perfect," I murmur, pressing a kiss to her lips.

She opens her eyes, a lazy smile playing on her lips. "No, you."

I laugh, my hands roaming over her body, mapping every curve, every dip. I line myself up between her legs, my throbbing cock pressing against her entrance. She wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me closer, and I slide into her slowly, savoring the way she feels around me- tight, warm, perfect.

"I love you," I whisper, my voice hoarse as I begin to move. 

Each thrust is slow, deliberate, like we have all the time in the world. Her walls clench around me, and I can feel her breath quicken, her nails digging into my back.

"I love you too," she pants, her head falling back as I hit a spot deep inside her.

I flip her onto her stomach, her body flush against the bed. She moans as I enter her again, the angle deeper, more intense. 

I wrap an arm around her waist, holding her close as I thrust into her, our bodies moving in perfect sync. The sound of our skin slapping together fills the room, a rhythm that’s both primal and tender.

"Jungkook…" she whimpers, her voice breaking as her body begins to tighten around me again.

"Cum with me," I groan, my voice thick with need. "Let go, baby."

Her walls clench, her body trembling as she cries out, her release sending me over the edge. I follow her, my orgasm crashing into me like a wave, my name on her lips as we cum together.

We don’t move.

Our skin is still damp with sweat, hearts pounding in rhythm. I lay half on top of her, my face buried in her neck, her fingers trailing slowly through my hair.

When I finally shift to lie beside her again, she curls into my chest, wrapping her leg around mine.

“I’ve never felt like that before,” she murmurs.

“I don’t think I ever will again,” I say.

She hums. “Then we’ll just keep getting close.”

I smile into her hair.

And say the truth I’ve been carrying since the wedding.

“I want to have a family with you.”

She stiffens slightly- not from fear, but surprise.

I pull back to look at her. “Not now. Not even soon. I just… I want that. With you. One day.”

Her eyes fill slowly, her fingers still resting over my heart.

“I do too,” she whispers. “I want our love to grow into something new.”

I pull her back into my arms and hold her tighter.

Because that’s exactly what we are.

Something ancient, blooming into something brand new.

═══════

y/n’s pov:

Three days after coming home from our honeymoon, I finally unpacked the last suitcase and declared the war against laundry a draw.

The house was quiet, sun filtering through the sheer curtains, and the smell of ocean salt had faded from our skin. Replaced now with detergent and candle wax and whatever fresh start smelled like.

I had just curled up on the couch with my throw blanket and a cup of tea when I heard the front door open.

“Babe?” Jungkook’s voice called.

“In here,” I replied, not moving.

Then came the sound.

Scratching.

Scuffling.

Snorting?

My brow furrowed. “Are you okay- ”

And then he walked into the living room.

With a puppy.

A Doberman puppy.

I blinked.

The dog blinked.

It sneezed.

“Is that…?” I asked slowly, lowering my mug.

He grinned. That sheepish, boyish, I-know-I’m-cute grin that made it hard to stay mad at him for more than thirty seconds.

“Sooo,” he said, scooping the puppy into his arms, “this is Bam.”

I stared.

Bam wagged its little tail and licked Jungkook’s chin.

“You got a dog,” I said.

“I rescued a dog.”

“You didn’t ask me to rescue a dog.”

“I meant to. But then I saw his face. Look at his little eyebrows- look at them! He looks worried. Like a tiny accountant.”

I stared at the puppy.

He did look concerned. And weirdly loyal.

And his ears were floppy. And he had giant paws. And a shiny little nose.

God damn it.

I tried to stay annoyed.

“You brought a Doberman into our house like it was a plant,” I said.

“I brought a family member into our house,” he countered.

“Do you even know how to train one?”

“I watched three YouTube videos and bought him a tiny bed. I’m basically a certified dog dad.”

I sighed and stood up, hands on my hips.

Bam wiggled in his arms and whined softly, then turned to stare at me like I was the one being difficult.

 me hold him,” I said, resigned.

Jungkook beamed and gently handed him over.

The puppy nestled into my chest like he’d been born to do it.

I closed my eyes. “I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“I hate that you’re right.”

He wrapped his arms around both of us from behind, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You love him too.”

I looked down at the dopey little dog in my arms.

“Welcome home, Bam,” I whispered.

═══════

I blamed it on the sushi.

Three days of nausea? Probably bad salmon.

Then I blamed it on my work schedule.

Exhaustion? I’d been pulling late nights editing a campaign.

Then, for about forty-eight hours, I convinced myself I had a stomach flu, despite having zero other symptoms and being perfectly fine as long as I didn’t look directly at scrambled eggs.

It wasn’t until I was brushing my teeth one morning and snapped at Jungkook for breathing too loudly that I paused mid-rinse, stared at myself in the mirror, and said:

“Oh, shit.”

I was late.

Not like “a couple hours” late.

Like “a week and some change” late.

At first, I didn’t panic.

I sat on the edge of the bathtub, phone in hand, Googling a mix of unhinged and hopeful phrases:

“how late is too late to not be late”

“pregnancy vs food poisoning signs”

“can stress delay period for 15 days”

I glanced at the drawer under the sink.

We’d joked about this before.

But suddenly it didn’t feel funny.

It felt real.

I didn’t tell Jungkook right away.

Not because I didn’t want to. But because I needed a second to process the fact that my body - the one that had died, reset, remembered, forgotten - might now be creating life.

It was… overwhelming.

But also quietly beautiful.

Like maybe the universe wasn’t done with our story yet.

═══════

I took the test on a random Tuesday.

Bam watched me from the hallway like a worried toddler. He whined once when I walked into the bathroom and whimpered again when I shut the door.

“You’re so dramatic,” I whispered to him.

Inside, I opened the box. Peeing on a stick wasn’t glamorous, but neither was being bent over a toilet at 6am praying for death, so whatever.

Three minutes.

I stared at the counter.

Three minutes felt longer than all our past lives combined.

When the timer went off, I turned the test over slowly.

And there it was.

Two lines.

Clear. Pink. Real.

I blinked. Laughed. Cried.

Then opened the door and sank to the floor while Bam licked my face and Jungkook called from the other room, “Everything okay in there?”

I sniffled. “Yeah.”

Totally fine.

Absolutely.

Completely.

Pregnant.

═══════

I didn’t tell him right away.

I waited until later that night, after dinner. He was standing at the sink, washing dishes with his sleeves rolled up, humming something low and rhythmic - probably one of the songs he was writing when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Bam laid at his feet like a knight guarding his king.

I stood in the doorway, holding the test behind my back, heart hammering like it hadn’t since the day I remembered him.

“Jungkook,” I said softly.

He glanced over his shoulder, smile ready. “Yeah, baby?”

“I need to tell you something.”

He paused. Wiped his hands on a towel and turned to face me fully.

“You’re not dying, are you?” he said quickly, half-joking, half-serious- like a man who’s lived enough lives to ask.

“No,” I said, breath shaking. “But I think… we’re beginning something.”

His eyes narrowed, confused.

So I stepped forward and handed him the test.

He looked at it.

Then looked at me.

Then back at it.

His mouth opened.

Then closed.

I watched the color drain from his face and then come flooding back in like a sunrise.

“You’re…” he whispered.

I nodded, biting my bottom lip.

He looked at the test again like maybe it would change.

“Holy shit,” he breathed.

“Yeah,” I said, laughing and crying all at once.

He stepped toward me slowly, cautiously, like I might shatter if he moved too fast.

Then he wrapped me in the gentlest hug he’d ever given me. Both hands sliding across my back, lips pressed to the top of my head, heartbeat pounding against my cheek.

“You’re pregnant,” he whispered, like he was still trying to convince himself it was real.

I nodded into his chest. “You’re gonna be a dad.”

His arms tightened.

And then he sank- all the way to the kitchen floor, dragging me with him into his lap, his face buried in my neck.

I felt his shoulders shaking.

Tears.

So I just held him, stroking the back of his head, our bodies curled up in the warmth of the moment.

After a long pause, he pulled back just enough to look at me.

“You’re really okay?”

“I’m okay,” I promised. “I think I’m still processing. But it feels… right.”

He smiled, eyes glassy.

Then, through a thick whisper: “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

He kissed me.

And I swear I felt the baby flutter even then- not physically, not really- but something inside me shifted.

Like they already knew their dad loved them.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

I’d heard music all my life.

Rhythms, melodies, the hum of sound stitched into memory. I’d fallen asleep to her laugh, woken up to the hush of waves, written whole songs inspired by the way her voice cracked when she cried.

But nothing - nothing - prepared me for the sound of our baby’s heartbeat.

It came like thunder in a forest. Fast, fluttery, fierce.

I didn’t expect that.

I didn’t expect them to sound so alive.

Y/N laid on the table beside me, her shirt rolled up, hand in mine. She was nervous, I could feel it in the way her thumb rubbed small circles against my palm but she smiled through it. Always trying to keep me steady.

lower belly, pressing gently. Then-

whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh

I forgot how to breathe.

“Is that- ” I asked, eyes wide, voice cracking.

The tech smiled. “That’s your baby.”

Tears flooded my eyes instantly. I didn’t even try to stop them.

Because that sound?

That was ours.

That was life.

═══════

We walked out of the clinic in silence, fingers laced.

Y/N squeezed my hand when we reached the car. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said.

She knew I was lying.

I kissed her forehead before helping her into the passenger seat, and we rode home without much conversation. The hum of the engine filled in the quiet between us, but she never let go of my hand.

When we got back, I walked her inside, helped her out of her shoes, and made sure she was comfortable on the couch. Bam curled up immediately beside her, like he could sense she needed something to anchor her.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumbled, brushing hair from her face.

She looked up at me- no questions, just trust. She nodded softly, resting her hand over her belly.

She always knew when to let me breathe.

═══════

I sat in the car alone for a few minutes after. 

Hands on the steering wheel.

The silence after that heartbeat felt… loud.

And my heart was racing again but not in the good way.

I’d promised myself this life would be different. That this time, I’d get to keep everything. That the tragedy was behind us.

But fear doesn’t listen to vows.

Fear has its own heartbeat.

And mine was pounding.

═══════

I pulled into a small park and called Taehyung.

He answered on the second ring.

“What’s up, bro?”

“Are you busy?”

“Not really. Why? You sound… weird.”

“I just…” I swallowed hard. “Can I come by?”

═══════

We sat on Taehyung’s back porch with two beers neither of us touched.

I stared at my hands.

“She’s twelve weeks,” I said. “We heard the heartbeat today.”

Taehyung smiled. “That’s incredible.”

“It is,” I said. “It’s… everything.”

A beat.

“But?”

“I’m scared, man.”

He looked at me carefully. “Of what?”

“Of losing it.”

My voice cracked.

I kept going anyway.

“Of getting too comfortable. Of thinking this life is ours and waking up in another one. Of making promises I can’t keep.”

Taehyung didn’t speak right away.

Then he leaned forward and said, “You’re not in that timeline anymore.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

I looked at him.

He softened. “Look, I’ve seen you crawl through hell to find her. I watched you fall apart when she didn’t remember. I saw the way you didn’t stop even when it felt impossible.”

He paused.

“So yeah, maybe the fear never fully goes away. But you? You’re not the man who lost everything anymore. You’re the man who built everything back.”

I swallowed hard.

“You’re allowed to be happy, Jungkook.”

I nodded slowly, eyes burning.

“And,” he added, “you’re gonna be a great dad.”

═══════

That night, I came home to find Y/N on the couch, one hand cradling her small, growing bump, the other petting Bam, who’d refused to leave her side all evening.

She looked up and smiled.

“You okay now?”

I crossed the room and knelt in front of her.

Placed both hands on her belly.

And kissed it gently.

“I heard our baby today,” I whispered.

She ran her fingers through my hair.

“I know.”

I looked up at her.

“I’m scared,” I admitted. “But I’m more in love than I’ve ever been.”

“I know that too.”

And then, with everything I had in me, I whispered:

“I’ll protect you both. Always.”

═══════

y/n’s pov: 

It started with paint swatches.

Then Pinterest boards. Then mood lighting. Then something Jungkook called “highly dangerous nesting mode” when I dragged him to a vintage furniture market at seven in the morning.

But it was never really about the crib or the color of the walls.

It was about making space for someone we hadn’t met yet, someone who was already turning our world into something quieter, softer, deeper.

The nursery had once been our spare room, home to Bam’s ridiculous collection of toys and random boxes we still hadn’t unpacked since moving in.

Now it was becoming the room.

The place we’d rock them to sleep.

Read them bedtime stories.

Whisper to them: you’re safe here.

═══════

I sat in the middle of the room one afternoon, belly huge, surrounded by folded onesies and little socks the size of my thumb, holding a pen above a blank page.

I wasn’t writing a list.

I was writing a letter.

I don’t know why. I just… needed to talk to them. Even if they couldn’t hear me yet.

Dear Baby, You don’t have a name yet. Not officially. But in my dreams, you’re already real. In my body, you already exist. In your father’s eyes, you are already loved. You are the first thing we’ve created together. The first piece of our story that belongs only to this life. You were born from lifetimes of love, from dreams and storms and soul-bonded memories. From tears, and healing, and holding on when everything said let go. We don’t know who you’ll be yet. But we know one thing: You are already ours. And we’ve waited forever to meet you. Love, Mom

A knock at the door pulled me from the letter.

Nayeon walked in, holding iced lavender tea and a bag of bakery cookies.

“You’re crying and writing again?” she teased, already setting everything down and plopping onto the rug beside me.

“Every time I fold baby socks, I get overwhelmed,” I admitted.

She grabbed a pair, holding them in the air. “I mean, this is criminally cute.”

I smiled, grateful.

She leaned her head on my shoulder.

“You scared?”

I nodded. “More than I thought I’d be.”

“It’s okay to be,” she said quietly. “Doesn’t mean you’re not ready.”

“I know.” I looked at her. “How do I… keep who I am, once I become someone’s mom?”

She looked at me for a long time.

Then said: “You don’t lose who you are. You expand it.”

I didn’t realize how much I needed that.

We sat together, sipping tea, surrounded by baby things and love and light.

And I knew this room wasn’t just a nursery.

It was the heart of our home, waiting to beat.

═══════

jungkook’s pov:

The storm rolled in around 2AM.

It started slow- a low rumble in the sky, a flicker of light in the distance. I thought it was just spring being dramatic. I didn’t even sit up in bed.

But then Y/N’s hand clutched mine under the covers, tight and trembling.

I turned toward her, bleary-eyed.

“You okay?” I whispered.

She didn’t say anything right away.

Then, very softly: “I think it’s time.”

I sat up so fast I nearly flipped off the mattress. “Time time?”

She nodded, wincing through another wave of pressure.

Lightning flashed outside the window.

Bam barked once and then went completely still.

“Okay,” I breathed. “Okay. We’re good. We trained for this. You’re good. We’re good.”

“I think my water broke.”

I looked down at the sheets.

Confirmed.

“Cool, cool, cool,” I said, way too fast. “I’m not panicking.”

“You’re panicking.”

“I’m calm-panicking.”

She laughed, even through the pain.

God, I loved her.

═══════

We got to the hospital just as the sky opened up.

Rain hammered the windows, thunder cracked through the clouds. Nurses moved around us like clockwork while I held Y/N’s hand through every contraction.

She was so strong. Fierce. Glowing even in pain.

And I was useless.

“I fucking hate you for doing this to me,” she hissed at one point.

“You’re doing amazing, baby,” I whispered, wiping sweat from her forehead.

“If you say one more fucking motivational Pinterest quote, I’ll kill you.”

“Fair.”

We’d waited our whole lives for this.

And suddenly, it was now.

═══════

Ten hours.

That’s how long it took before I heard the cry.

Ten hours of pacing, squeezing her hand, watching the monitors, whispering, begging, loving her through every second.

And then-

A sound that shattered everything and rebuilt it in the same breath.

Our daughter.

Our child.

Tiny. Wailing. Alive.

They placed her in Y/N’s arms, and I swear the storm outside stopped just to listen.

Y/N sobbed as she kissed the baby’s forehead.

I didn’t realize I was crying too until I tasted salt.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to her temple.

“You did it,” I whispered. “You’re a fucking goddess.”

“She’s so little,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time.

“She’s perfect.”

And when they finally placed her in my arms…

When I looked down at that tiny face with her mama’s nose and a tuft of black hair…

All I could say, through the lump in my throat and the ache in my chest, was:

“Hi, angel. We’ve been waiting so long for you.”

═══════

y/n’s pov:

The house was quiet.

Not silent, not anymore. But quiet in the way that meant peace.

A lullaby played softly through the baby monitor. The faint hum of the washing machine droned in the distance. Rain tapped lightly against the windowpane, as if trying not to wake the sleeping miracle in the next room.

I stood in the doorway of the nursery, one hand resting against the frame, the other cradling a cup of tea gone cold.

She’d just fallen asleep.

And Jungkook had, too.

They were curled up together in the armchair — his arms around her tiny swaddled body, her cheek against his chest like she knew him already.

And maybe she did.

Maybe some part of her had waited through the same lifetimes we did, just to find her way here.

She’d just fallen asleep.

And Jungkook had, too.

They were curled up together in the armchair- his arms around her tiny swaddled body, her cheek against his chest like she knew him already.

And maybe she did.

Maybe some part of her had waited through the same lifetimes we did, just to find her way here.

I didn’t walk in right away.

I just watched them.

Jungkook’s head was tilted back, mouth slightly open, face softened by sleep. The baby’s hand peeked out of her wrap, fingers barely curled, resting against the curve of his arm like she’d chosen him.

And of course she had.

Because he was made for this.

For love.

For peace.

For us.

═══════

I sat down gently on the rug in front of them and let myself feel everything.

The weight of what we’d survived.

The lives we’d lost.

The memories we weren’t meant to carry, and the ones we fought to keep.

I touched my belly out of instinct, still adjusting to the space where she used to be.

Still adjusting to the now.

I looked at them again- my husband, my daughter.

And I realized something I’d never put into words before:

Love didn’t save us.

We saved each other.

By remembering.

By staying.

By showing up every day, even when we didn’t know if the world would let us keep what we had.

We weren’t perfect.

But we were home.

═══════

When Jungkook stirred, his eyes opened slow.

He blinked at me, then looked down at the baby.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” I whispered back.

He looked around the room, still groggy, then met my gaze again. “Did I miss anything?”

I shook my head. “You were exactly where you were supposed to be.”

He kissed her forehead.

Then looked at me and said, “So were you.”

I leaned my head against the chair, heart full.

And I thought about what it means to live after the storm.

Not just to survive it. But to build something out of the wreckage. To take all the versions of yourself and love the one that remains.

Because this was it.

This was the life the universe gave us when we finally stopped running.

This was the answer to every lost dream, every second chance, every quiet prayer.

This was our beginning.

═══════

Mi-rae’s giggle could part the sea.

That kind of laughter- it didn’t just ring in your ears. It echoed in your chest, curled up in your ribs like it planned to stay.

She was running. Well, trying to. Legs still wobbly in the sand, her tiny sunhat lopsided, cheeks pink with heat. She flung her arms like wings, chasing nothing and everything while Jungkook trailed after her like a lovesick bodyguard.

“She’s just like you,” I called from the picnic blanket.

“Beautiful?” he yelled back.

“Chaotic!”

He spun her around in his arms, both of them laughing now, and she let out a shriek that made Bam bark twice before collapsing into the sand beside me, tail thumping.

Our daughter.

Our dog.

Our life.

On this beach- the cove where he proposed, where we promised forever barefoot in the sun.

Now we were back.

Only this time, there were three of us.

We spent the morning doing nothing in particular.

Mi-rae crawled through piles of damp sand with a pink shovel she kept chewing on, while Jungkook built a very serious moat around what might’ve been a castle. I sat cross-legged with a peach and a journal in my lap, watching the two of them exist like they’d always known each other.

“She’s not even one and already you’re building fortresses for her,” I teased.

Jungkook looked up, grinning. “She deserves a kingdom.”

I smiled, heart full.

He really meant it.

═══════

The sun climbed higher, and after laying out lunch beneath the driftwood arch where we once exchanged vows, I pulled Mi-rae into my lap for her mid-day feeding. She nestled against my chest instantly, warm and soft and so completely ours.

It was always quiet when she nursed.

Even the ocean seemed to hush.

Jungkook laid beside us, propped on one elbow, sipping water- until he wasn’t sipping anymore.

He was staring.

“Don’t,” I said, knowing that look.

“What?”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m in awe,” he murmured.

“You’re ogling my boobs.”

“I’m worshipping,” he corrected.

I gave him a flat look.

He leaned closer, voice low. “They’re just… you know. Out. Glowing. Feeding the next generation. Heroic.”

“Heroic,” I echoed, laughing quietly.

“And kind of- ” his eyes dipped, “hot.”

“Jungkook.”

“I mean, what do you expect me to do when my wife whips out the most beautiful pair of tits I’ve ever seen and uses them to sustain life like it’s casual?”

I blinked. “The most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”

“I’m serious,” he said, brushing a hand down my thigh. “You’re everything.”

When Mi-rae finished and tucked into my side, I adjusted my top. Jungkook watched every movement like he was starving.

“You’re drooling.”

“Only a little.”

═══════

The rest of the day blurred into color- pink skies, orange light, salt-stung kisses. We dipped Mi-rae’s toes in the water, let her fall asleep against Jungkook’s chest while we laid under an umbrella watching the tide.

“This was the best idea,” I murmured.

“She deserves to see where it all began.”

“Us?”

He nodded, pressing his nose into my hair. “The moment that changed everything.”

I reached for his hand and laced our fingers.

“You’ve changed me,” I said. “Every version of me is better because you existed in it.”

He looked over, and I saw it in his eyes. That softness that meant he was thinking not just about now, but about then. About everything we’d been. Everything we almost lost.

“I want you again,” he whispered.

“You have me.”

“I mean when we get home. After we put her to bed.”

His fingers drifted under the hem of my sundress.

“I want to remind you.”

“Remind me of what?”

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear.

“That you’re mine. That you still ruin me.”

My breath hitched. My thighs pressed together.

Mi-rae snorted in her sleep.

I laughed.

He smirked.

═══════

When we packed up the beach blanket and I carried our daughter back to the car, she stirred in my arms, eyelids fluttering, her hand curling around the necklace Jungkook gave me on our first anniversary.

It still had sand in the clasp.

Still smelled faintly of salt and memory.

I looked down at her, tucked against my chest.

And whispered, “You’re the best thing we’ve ever done.”

═══════

Mi-rae barely stirred when I laid her in her crib.

She sighed- one of those sleepy, content baby sounds and curled instinctively toward the warmth of the blanket. Her tiny fist held the corner of her favorite muslin cloth, and for a second I just stood there, watching.

She was perfect.

We didn’t need a lullaby. We didn’t need anything but this quiet room, this soft glow of motherhood.

I kissed her forehead, tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, and whispered, “Goodnight, my girl.”

Then I left the door cracked, just the way she liked it.

═══════

The house was dim and still.

Bam was already asleep at the edge of the hallway, one paw tucked under his chin. The beach bag sat in the laundry room waiting to be unpacked. I knew I should’ve started a load of towels.

But I also knew what - who - was waiting for me.

When I turned the corner into the living room, I found him exactly where I knew he’d be.

Sprawled shirtless across the couch. Sweatpants. No shirt. Hair tousled. Eyes hooded.

And the look?

Hungry.

“You took your time,” he murmured.

“I was putting your daughter to sleep.”

He sat up slowly, muscles flexing with the movement. “She’s lucky.”

“Lucky?”

“She got you first tonight.”

I blinked, heat sparking instantly.

He didn’t say another word.

Just patted the couch.

I stepped closer, feeling the weight of him already, the gravity that always pulled me back.

“You’ve been staring at me all day like you were starving,” I said.

“I am.”

He grabbed my hand and tugged me toward him. I stumbled into his lap, legs straddling his hips before I could say no- not that I wanted to.

His hands slipped under my dress, slow and warm. “Do you know how crazy it makes me,” he whispered, lips brushing my throat, “watching you feed our baby? Knowing your body’s already full of magic and still mine?”

“Jungkook- ”

His hands gripped my thighs, his touch sending shivers up my spine. His lips brushed against my neck, sending a jolt of desire straight to my core. 

“You have no idea,” he groaned. “You make me wild, Y/N. Soft and desperate at the same time.”

My head fell back, exposing the sensitive curve of my neck to his kisses. His hands tightened on my thighs, his touch both possessive and tender. A hunger ignited within me, a familiar ache that only he could mend.

“What do you want,” I breathed.

“You,” he growled, his lips brushing against my ear. “Right here, baby.”

His words sent a surge of heat through me. I didn't need to say anything else. The desire between us was a tangible thing, a force pulling us closer.

The world beyond the living room faded away. There was only Jungkook, his touch, his scent, the heat of his body against mine. 

My dress, a flimsy barrier against our desire, was peeled away, discarded like a forgotten secret. His sweatpants followed, kicked aside with impatient urgency.

We sank into the cushions, skin meeting skin, a symphony of heat and longing. 

His lips found mine, hungry and demanding, yet somehow gentle. His tongue traced the contours of my mouth, a silent promise of pleasures to come. His hands roamed, mapping the curves of my body, remembering every dip and swell as if they were etched into his memory. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against my lips, his voice thick with desire.

I shivered at his words, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His kisses were a language I understood perfectly, a dialect of passion and need.

Then, with a sudden shift, I found myself on my knees before him, his hardness throbbing against my lips. I looked up at him, my eyes reflecting the desire burning in his. He watched me with a mixture of awe and hunger, his hand gently cupping my cheek.

I took him into my mouth, my lips wrapping around him, my tongue swirling, tasting him. He groaned, his head falling back, his fingers threading through my hair, guiding me gently.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed, his voice rough with pleasure. "You're going to make me lose it."

I hummed around him, my eyes fluttering closed as I focused on the sensation of his skin against my lips, the pulse of his desire against my tongue.

But then, with a gentle hand on my shoulder, he pulled me away, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made my heart ache.

"Hold on," he whispered, helping me up. "I want to taste you first."

He laid me down on the couch, his fingers tracing the curves of my body, his lips following their path. His kisses were slow, deliberate, a worshipful exploration of every inch of me. 

When his mouth finally found the dripping cunt, I gasped, my body arching off the couch. His tongue was a maestro, conducting an orchestra of pleasure within me. 

He knew exactly where to touch, where to lick, where to suck, driving me closer and closer to the edge.

"Jungkook," I moaned, my fingers digging into the cushions, my body tense with anticipation.

"Let go," he murmured against my skin, his breath hot and moist. "Let me feel you."

And then, with a cry that was equal parts pleasure and surrender, I shattered, my body trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me.

Jungkook’s lips never left me, his tongue continuing its gentle dance even as my body stilled. When he finally looked up, his eyes were dark with desire, his lips swollen from kissing me.

"I want you now," he said, his voice hoarse. 

He positioned himself above me, his eyes locked onto mine, his hardness pressing against my entrance. He entered me slowly, filling me completely, our breaths mingling as he began to move.

It was slow, deliberate, each thrust a declaration of love, each whisper a promise of forever. 

"I love you," he murmured, his lips brushing against mine.

"I love you too," I replied, my fingers digging into his shoulders, my body moving with his, our rhythms perfectly synchronized.

His hands gripped my thighs, his fingers digging into my skin as he moved deeper, his rhythm steady and intoxicating. I wrapped my legs around him, my nails scraping his back as I met his pace, our bodies moving in perfect harmony.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his forehead pressing against mine. “So fucking good.”

His words were like fuel, igniting a fire within me. I tilted my head back, exposing my neck, and he took the invitation, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of sensations that made me arch into him. 

His hands moved to my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples as he thrust into me, his movements growing more urgent but never losing their tenderness.

“Jungkook,” I whispered, my voice breaking as the pleasure built. “I’m close.”

“Me too,” he rasped, his voice strained. “Cum with me, baby. Let go.”

He moved inside me like he’d waited lifetimes for this version of us.

And maybe he had. 

The world outside ceased to exist. There was only Jungkook, his body moving within mine, the heat of our passion, the whispered declarations of love.

And then, together, we crested, our cries intertwining as we found release, our bodies trembling in the aftermath of our shared ecstasy.

═══════

Afterward, I laid against him, chest rising slowly, heart still thudding in my ears.

My thigh draped across his hip. His hand pressed softly to the curve of my lower back. We were still catching our breath, but there was no urgency left between us- only that hush that follows something holy.

His hands never stopped moving.

Slow strokes down my spine.

Gentle lines traced along my arm. His fingers brushed the swell of my hip like he was relearning me all over again- reverent, unhurried, present. Like if he stopped touching me, he might forget I was real.

“I’ll never get used to you,” he whispered.

I smiled into his chest, nose nuzzled just beneath his collarbone.

“You don’t have to,” I murmured. “You just have to keep choosing me.”

He didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

He just held me tighter.

Our limbs tangled. Our breath syncing. The room still warm from us, from the quiet ache of want turned into worship.

From love.

From home.

═══════

Outside, the rain started again. Soft at first, then steadier, like the sky was remembering something.

Inside, everything stilled.

Bam shifted in the hallway with a low sigh. The baby monitor hummed in the background, steady and calm.

Jungkook’s breath moved through my hair as he kissed the top of my head. His arm wrapped tighter around me, his palm flat over the curve of my waist like he was anchoring us both to the moment.

We didn’t speak.

We didn’t need to.

Because nothing had ever felt this whole.

I pressed my lips to his chest, right above his heart, and closed my eyes.

And in the hush that followed, I whispered into the silence between us-

We lived.

We loved.

And now, we begin again.

═══════

Post-A/N: did this live up to expectations? was this a good ending for them? 🥺 this is definitely their last big story but i’m always open to ideas for drabbles. tysm for loving them as much as i do and for reading their story 🫶

ANOTHER TIME ♡ LINK TO ASK ♡ MASTERLIST

♡ requests are welcome ♡ taglist ♡

These characters are fictional and do not represent any real-life individuals. Their likeness is used solely for visual inspiration and does not reflect the actual person or their story.

═══════

Posted: 06/22/2025

Taglist: @rinkud @kelsyx33 @army7-013 @jungshaking @battlingmyowndemons @Strxqrd1 @mar-lo-pap @lovingkoalaface @whoa-jo @kiliskywalker666 @sucker4jeon @annpeachy-blog @kaiparkerwifes @nikkinikj @elithenium @asyr97 @heyinwluv85s @jjkluver7 @bammbi-jeon127 @kookoo-kachoo @angelsdecalcomania @kayswatanabe @granataepfelchen @kelsyx33 @tatamicc @blubird592 @llallaaa @chromietriestowrite @k1ll1ngcl0wns @jahnaviii @mfsitscho

[sethsclearwater]

can you do a lil blurb with paul and reader on their wedding day and they get a little bit of alone time together and paul is INTENT on making the most of their first alone time as a married couple if you know what i mean😩

i love paul sm

"pull your dress up," paul ordered as soon as he had the door shut behind the two of you, leaving the two of you to yourselves for a few moments in your suite. a few days prior, you weren't sure why paul was so insistent on getting alone time with you immediately after your wedding ceremony but when you saw the familiar dominance in his eyes as he guided you two to your private suite, you knew why.

"you know i don't like asking twice. lift the dress princess," his voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you were instantly blushing as he cornered you against the minibar, his hands coming to rest at either side of your hips.

at his second command, you were instantly lifting the silky white material of your wedding dress to bunch as your hips. he hummed in approval, "that's my girl," he praised, gaze lowering between your thighs to the thin white, lacey fabric you had barely covering you.

he slid his hands over to your hips, lifting you up just enough that you could sit on the edge of the minibar, presumably to give him easier access to you, "we have pictures in like 10 minutes," you gently reminded, voice quiet as you peeked up at your husband.

paul's lips curled into a faint smile, "i'll be quick, yea?" although his tone suggested it was a question, you knew there was no use in arguing with him about the logistics of a quickie minutes before heading out to take pictures with all of your closest friends and family.

you gave him a small nod, unable to deny just how much you also needed a quick release after all the built up sexual tension throughout the insanely busy days leading up to your ceremony.

at your nod, paul dropped his grip on your hips to reach down and unzip his dress pants, making quick work of tugging his hardening length out of his briefs so he could pump himself a few times. you let out a low whine when you saw the way he was touching himself, suddenly much more aware of just how badly you needed him.

a breathy laugh left paul's lips when he heard your whine, sliding one hand back up your thigh to toy at your garter for a moment, "you still not letting me take this off?" he asked, smirking up at you when he saw you immediately glower at him and smack his hand away.

"you can take it off at the reception like we're supposed to," you emphasized, holding your playful glare up at him for a moment until you felt his hand slid off the garter despite the cheeky smile still covering his features, "and don't-" you didn't even have a chance to finish what you were saying before you felt his fingers dip underneath the thin material of your lacy thong to swipe through your dampening folds.

"what was that you were saying princess?" he teased, reveling in the way you leaned back, using your hands to support most of your weight as you dropped your head back to let out a loud whimper.

despite how annoyed you typically got with his cockiness, you couldn't argue with the way he currently had you wrapped around his finger. at your lack of response, paul lifted his thumb to gently rub at your clit while his pointer finger tugged your panties to the side to give him just enough room to expose your aching hole to him.

before you knew it, his cock was nudging at your entrance, "first time fucking you as mrs. lahote," he mused, smiling when you met his gaze again, a familiar pink blush rushing to your cheeks as you realized that he was now your husband, "better make it good then, yea?" he asked, chuckling when you nodded, sitting up a bit so you could slide your hands up his chest to cup his face in your hands.

as you pulled him down to kiss you, he pressed his hips into yours, connecting the two of you in one swift thrust. the moan you let out was captured by his lips and you quickly melted into him, knotting your fingers in his hair to hold him close to you.

paul was true to his word and wasted no time setting a quick pace, clearly intent on making both of you cum as quickly as possible so you could get back to pictures with family and friends on time. his thumb continued to toy with your clit while his other hand snaked around to grope at the fatty flesh of your ass and keep you in place despite the intensity of his thrusts.

"such a fucking good girl," he groaned when he pulled his lips from yours to give you a moment to catch your breath, resting his forehead against yours.

"paul-" you whined, voice catching as he rolled your clit between his thumb and pointer fingers, your walls immediately clamping down on his cock at the onslaught of pleasurable sensations.

despite how hard of a time you were having keeping up with him, his familiar laughter filled your ears as he continued fucking you like his life depended on it, "cum on my cock bunny," he encouraged, his words queueing you in as you realized just how quickly your orgasm was building up inside you.

he continued toying with your clit, teetering you on the edge of an orgasm and you wrapped your legs around him, giving him a much better angle to work with as he began penetrating you at an even deeper angle.

the new angle had you seeing stars and almost immediately the dam burst as you came undone on his cock. you tightened your arms and legs around him, holding onto him for dear life as you came undone on him.

paul lifted you up, pushing you up against the wall so he could get better access to you, hips snapping against yours for just a few more moments before he let out a muffled groan and spilled his release into your throbbing channel.

although your orgasms hit both of you like a freight train, paul managed to hold you up, slowly lowering you back down to the bar counter as his thrusts slowed down.

you lifted your head from his shoulder to meet his gaze, both of you letting out breathless laughs when you realized what you'd just decided to spend your first moments as a married couple doing.

"i love you so much, you know that?" paul asked, smiling even bigger when you hummed and nodded.

"i think you've told me once or twice," you mused, giggling when he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips before pulling out of you so he could get the two of you cleaned up and ready for pictures.

[wrioluvr]

wriothesley x sub top male reader

i feel like wriothesley is a switch, but if you were cute enough, he would def be a power bottom. he needs to do something with all that ass, anyway.

visiting your boyfriend at the fortress was always a surprise. most days, he would listen intently to you ramble about your day over a cup of tea, providing cheeky remarks when he got the chance. but some days, when he needed to release stress, he wasn't above taking a little advantage of your submissive nature for his pleasure. today was one of those days.

"w-wrio.... i can't! it's too much...." you whimpered as you wrapped your arms around his stomach, hugging him from behind. sitting in his office chair with him in your lap and cock buried deep in his ass, wriothesley let out a low grunt, adjusting his position to get used to the feeling of you being inside him. "come on, angel. you can do better than that. i haven't even started moving." he looked back at you and winked teasingly. "you know, for such a cutie, you're really fucking big." he muttered under his breath, gripping onto the desk for support. "don't say such embarrassing things..." your face somehow got even redder and you tightened your grip around him. he could practically feel your blush even though you buried your face into his shoulder. god, you were so adorable.

"okay, you ready? i'm gonna start moving." his next line was delivered with a slight commanding tone to it. "be a good boy and take it, yeah?" instantly, he felt your body shiver in response and smiled in satisfaction. "yes, wrio."

lewd sounds filled the office as he started to ride you up and down - a mixture of wriothesley's deep grunts and your mewls, as well as the slick sound of skin on skin. even in your stupor, you couldn't help but notice the way his ass jiggled everytime it came back into contact with your crotch. without thinking much, your hands immediately moved to knead his ass, wanting to feel its supple flesh in your fingers. "now, what did i say about touching me without my permission?" "but-" "no buts. hands behind the chair. now." your body had no choice but to comply. he reached over to the pair of handcuffs on his desk and made eye contact, silently asking if it was alright. you nodded, trying to stifle a moan as all his shifting around was making him squeeze your cock even tighter. gently, he restrained you to the chair, taking in the sight of you letting him do whatever he wanted. taking your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to it, he whispered lustfully, "we're just getting started, darling."

you were completely at his mercy, unable to move at all. he rode you until your cock was red and weeping, completely bled dry after you had just finished pumping your third load into him. each time he slammed back down to the base of your cock, he swore you hit a different spot deeper inside him. it was kind of thrilling, fucking your boyfriend right in his office, when his subordinates could walk in at any second. "please- wrio.... i can't anymore..." "okay, okay. i think you've had enough." he chuckled as he pulled your dick out of him, feeling a last jolt of pleasure as your tip brushed past his entrance, and undid the handcuffs. you lay there, dazed, as he carried you in his arms and switched positions, with you now sitting in his lap. he snuggled his head into the crook of your neck, taking in your scent. "thanks, baby. you're the best." maybe you should visit more often...

[keen-li]

All Aisle Ever Need 02 | jjk

chapter: 2/ ?

summary: Forced into a corner and faced with the biggest decision of your life. You stand before your ex and have to decide whether to marry him or not...

pairing: Jungkook x fem reader.

story type: series.

genre: exes to lovers, second chance au, right person wrong timing, lack of communication, forced proximity, slow burn, angst, fluff, smut.

rating: m. Mdni

wordcount: 10.6k

warnings for chapter: troubled parental dynamics/figures. It's implied that they are both grown, Jungkook is older than reader (the age is subjective). cussing. found family. none really from here on.

a/n: though of this whilst watching MAFS. I've been in a burnout and this got me out of it?.

anyways I hope you enjoys it.

date: 02/05/25

note: this is not the first chapter

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story under cut.

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“Yn are you alright?”

The concern in his voice, eyes; it weakens your knees. These aren’t the knees that should’ve been getting knocked in. But it’s not surrender.

The universe will always know how to flip the switch negatively for those it doesn't like. And it happens you’re on the bad side of it.

You wonder how he's able to say your name so casually, like a feather being carried by wind. His name is forbidde in your mind right now. Even thinking about thinking about it is a casualty.

He smiles, occasionally looking over at the officiant and his friends.

You must be looking like a fool right now. You feel like one.

Does he seriously not feel like you are? Your face muscles are taut it's hard to pull a smile.

Your chest tightens.

You don’t put it past him. That’s who he is. Do you even know? He's acting so concerned for you all of a sudden. Where was this when...you know what? he can keep his fake concern and shove it up his as--

“I’m fine.” You force the words out. The little pause has people staring. Tae and Jisoo inch closer to the edge of their seats. Maybe it’s just the nerves but you look anaemic. The silence stays. “Really I’m fine.” Your lips curve from embarrassment masked as genuitey.

If you just plaster on a smile, you’ll be fine. Act like you're standing in front of a stranger.

You stare up at him...that idioitic smile still exists?

“We can proceed?” the officiant asks and you both nod for them to go ahead.

It's not a confident nod, cause you're still deciding for how long this ceremony should last.

You would’ve walked away, you should’ve at the silence. But no worries, you can wait to the i dos to say you don’t want to do this. It’s fine you’re still control of this.

He was supposed to be a stranger.

“Jungkook, yn’s friends want you to know...” the officiant starts and you only hope that your friends didn't write something stupid. You didn't get to see what they wrote about you, but you trust them. Their the only thing you're depending in to stay the same at this point. “...she’s a very caring person who feels things deeply. She loves love and is looking for a partner who knows what he wants.”

Jungkook nods, glances switching from the officiant to you. You cringe behind your hands. It’s sweet...you’re a lover girl. He doesn't remember the last time he's...its been a while since...dammit.

“They also want you to know...she can be a bit bossy at times so be ready to be bossed.”

You mumble an interjection as you turn to narrow your eyes at the culprits who sit side by side. Cheeky smiles plastered on their faces.

Are you bossy? That's what people say. But you just like things a certain way. You don't know what's wrong with that.

Everybody chuckles when you express embarrassment through a self defence speech. You just had to clarify.

When you're done and you lift your head with a blush that drains. You bite your inner cheek immediately.

“That’s not a problem for me.” Jungkook says playfully but you don’t catch.

Your lack of reaction forces him to match you as well.

Can others feel it, can they sense your one-sided tension.

“Yn...” you snap your eyes to the officiant. “Jungkook’s family wants you to know that he’s a goal junky, loves to achieve anything he sets his mind to. That includes whatever you task him with."

You nod like it's all new to you, cause it is. You never knew him back then why would you know him now?

You also never pinned him as the type to have tattoos or piercings.

But no matter what, you doubt he's changed. They never change. Unless he somehow went for therapy, which you doubt he did. Jungkook was always picky about who he opens up to.

He's still the same old jungkook. And marriage doesn't change a thing.

Your cheek will tear if you bite any harder. So you relax, for your own good.

“We’re perfect.” Jungkook jokes

“yeah...”

The officiant goes in and you couldn't be happier, “...he’s a guy who’s dedicated to the people around him, loves community and they can promise you he’ll always be there for you.”

Scoff. And he heard it. Good.

“So do you take...”

From the depths of your limited knowledge you have no clue why he says yes for. What the fuck. You're gonna to look like a bad person now.

And now everyone watches for you. This is your exit. You say no and walk out of here. It will be confusing but what about this isn't already confusing.

Too hell with what people will think. This is about your happiness.

Maybe you aren’t marriage material. Your family was right. You've been a fool with all of this and the universe keeps telling you that. Why the hell would he say yes. Does he not actually remember you?

You sigh the decision weighing hard on you. If they asked you this back then the answer would be out quicker than lightening, but knowing what you know, you can’t. You just can’t.

“i do.”

You feel an invisble veil lift over head, how long was it there for?

Him putting your ring on you, has you holding your breath. You dreamt if this...you dreamt of him. And it's finally happening, but it feels anything but good. The ring doesn't feel like and eternity of love and commitment but more like a death sentence that you brought yourself to.

This is conflicting with what you had in mind for yourself.

“So I now pronounce husband and wife, you may now kiss the-” the officiant isn't sure if he should go on. Cause you're strangers and might not want to go that far yet.

But the question is caught and the following words leave as a soft question, like he was fighting himself to say.

“may i?”

He's so freaking ridiculou-

“sure.”

Nothing is going to plan.

He put you in the spot, that's the reason. Not anything more, not the curiosity of his lip ring on you. Him on yo...

His palm is soft as he cups your cheek. The kiss is gentle and soft. Warm and like you know him...the hint of spirit is unmistakable.

It's nice to know he was a little nervous about the wedding.

It only lasts for a few seconds but you could swear it lasted longer than that.

One moment he's on you and the next you're walking back down the aisle, your hand in his but inching away slowly as your friends cheer.

You stare at him dumbfound.

Who the hell is this man?

Once you’re out and on the balcony by producer’s request, you drop his hand so fast. And if he was a stranger, you would feel bad for being rude.

You’re supposed to be talking, getting to know eachother or whatever. Nothing to get to know in your opinion.

“So what do you do for work?” your eyes are on the skyscrapers. You watch them and analyse every single detail. You’re not the avid scene watcher you’ve never be. The only time you were was when your father would be yelling at you and you wanted to be elsewhere.

How the hell are they able to stand so tall and strong? .

Speaking of standing. Jungkook stands, elbows leaning against the half wall protecting you both from the ground.

Someone would assume you’re staring at the same thing if they walked in...and you are.

“Right off the bat?” He turns to look at you with an annoying smirk. He looks back at the skyscraper when you don’t stare at him. Can you not feel his eyes on you?

He needs to get himself together. He can’t be nervous about the wedding still.

“Too forward?” a bird soars over the building. Must be nice to be so free and unburdened.

“No. You’re alright.” his shoulders droop, now leaning over to look down at the people who walk. From the corner of you eyes you watch, but not for long.  “I do accounting.”

You’re quick to snapping your head to him. And for the moment you stare at eachother...“Really?”

“Shocking?”

It is. Jungkook and accounting? The only thing he can account for are numbers. Not surprisingly. Internally you roll your eyes, you’d do it right in his face but you don’t know where you stand.  “n-no...just...” it’s shocking, but its good you guess.

He’s not giving any signs of remembrance and honestly you don’t want to be the first one to bring it up. It annoys you, very much so. Why do you always have to be the one who speaks first? It’s your specialty but sometimes it wouldn’t hurt for somebody else to be at the front.

“You live in the city?” he asks.

“yeah you?”

He nods.

The silence that falls between you two is so dumb and unnecessary. How the hell are you going to survive this marriage?

You both stand on it. You only survive the silence by staring at the sky above.

This feels dumb so dumb you just have to ask. If he doesn’t remember you then he won’t be able to ask. And if he doesn’t ask you won't know, and if you won't know it’ll eat at you.

Unless you just ask. Its for your own sake. Even if he does remember you it won’t change how you’re hating this right now. Fuck...just ask. Keep it vague.

“i’m sorry i just need to as-” you start to only get interrupted.

So he waited for you to want to say something, to say whatever he wants to?

Chuckle.

“You always wanted to marry a stranger?”

What the hell does he care?

“no-who would ever want that.” You scoff dismissively

He’s got no idea what to say. You don’t seem interested and he feels like all he's doing is investigating you. “How do-did you evision yourself get married?”

He catches your smirk  and he can’t help but do the same. You look too pretty to be pouting like before.

“i don’t want to hurt your feelings.” You confess.

He knows this is not the way anyone, let alone a woman, would want to get married. So maybe he would be hurt if you told him what you really wanted.

“Assuming you can-” he stares at you and this time he doesn’t look away.

“All i can tell you is i never thought i’d be marrying a stranger.” No, you can’t tell him. You won’t let anyone know that.

“is it something you’re okay with?”

“i mean i’m here” You chuckle. You’re here...so that that should serve to something.  What exactly? You have no clue. But you’re here

Is he as well? You hope not. Cause it would be a shame

“Your body is.” You knit your brows in his direction but catch yourself immediately. You can’t let him know the way that remark's affected you. Is it that obvious? You were to trying hard to hide what you’re truly feeling, but you guess you’re more of an open book than you thought.

Or maybe he just knows how to read you.

Jungkook looks down at the street and when you chuckle bitterly his on you.

“Wow you talk a lot.” It’s a mumble, not confident enough to come out as you'd want or as normally as you would.  And the same goes for your gaze. Your feet inch unconsciously further from him like you weren’t far enough already.

It seems like you can never be far enough from him.

He smiles, playing with the metal by his lip and staring down at his hands. Will he have to stop wearing his other decorative rings now? It would take away from the centre piece. Maybe he’ll just have them on his right hand.

“You aren’t as bossy as i expected.”

You want to be offended you really want to.

“i’m out of my comfort zone.” It’s a simple statement.

Jungkook raises a brow. “What would i have to do to get you there?” He wants to know, wants to see how bossy you can get. Can he handle it? He’s done it before.

Have you gotten bossier?

“You look like the type to marry a stranger.” Completely ignoring him, you follow with your assumption.

“i look? What look is that?” Jungkook turns away from the view, choosing to give his back to the world. The conversation seems to be getting more interesting.

He folds his arms over his chest. He looks like someone who would what? It’s only a few things he can change huh!

“You have the vibe.” You straighten your back, folding your arms over your chest as well.

But maybe his actions just prove that he can only change so much in the eyes of himself and others. His actions always seem to get him to horrible places, but its his fault for staying. “You're right. I would marry a stranger.” He smirks to himself. You can read him too?

“is it what you wanted?” The question is heavy in your heart. It shouldn’t be cause it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter to you...so why you ask? you don’t know cause you don’t care. Really.

You don’t care about how his face grows serious after the question, the way he brushes his index and middle finger over his lips in thought. Does he have to think about it? You had your answer quite quick.

“no. I wouldn’t have done it this way.” He confesses to something deeper than words can go and you would know that if you could see how his eyes watch you. This is never how he’d want to do things but his actions...more like inaction... have him here.

But the universe seems to be giving him a second chance for the very first time. He doesn’t  know how many he has but one thing he knows is not to squander it going against what he wants. “But we make mistakes.”

“Marrying me is a mistake?”

He laughs, cause you don’t get it.

The laugh feels like an insult to you and you loathe that you care. It was mistake for him to marry you cause you’re hating him right now and you’re gonna show it. Maybe that way he’ll remember.

Jungkook smirks giving up.

“You’ve gotten better.” His voice is low. He wondered how long this conversation would go on for before either one of you got tired.

“what?”

“At pretending.”

You laugh. “learnt from the best.” You’re eyes are back on the skyscrapers. You don’t even know why you looked away.

You should’ve guessed it, not because you think he’s capable  of it but because he probably enjoys your suffering. You've been talking and he watched you walk down the aisle. He acted so innocent like he didn’t...Where’s he going with this? “You knew?” You don’t bother to elaborate, he should know.

“how could i forget?”

You roll your eyes at him. Liar. Not a scoff in the world could show how irritated you suddenly feel. You could throw him over this—shit.

“Then why the hell did you say yes.” you're raging.

He looks at you to lower your tone. As much as you’re alone here, there are people inside. People who think you don’t know each other and are happy for you.

Your sudden tone change definitely wakens something in him. A calm but irritated tone. “You wanted me to say no?”

“Yeah.” You laugh jaggedly, nodding your head like your disappointed in him. The laugh hides how your heart tightens and eyes fill.

You can’t.

“Then why didn’t you say no?”

You'd like to rub your face to alleviate some stress but honestly it wouldn’t do much. The make up have on stops you from doing anything with touching your face. That's why you try not to cry. Jisoo would notice any shift in product, instantly.

Instead you turn your back to him for a moment. He stares harder. Why the hell is he looking at you? Can he not look away?

Collecting yourself you turn around, breath slow but deep. You have to control your anger. Otherwise you might just--

“Felt bad for you.” You snicker.

Jungkook raises a confused brow. “You felt bad for me so you legally bound us together? Wow mother teresa.” He didn’t want to say the last remark but it slipped out, he doesn't intend for this to get heated and knowing you that remark is getting you right where he doesn’t want to be.

“Shut the fuck up." You’re calmer.  “Why the hell did you say yes?” you press in. You want to know, really. Is he trying to prove something,  trying to waste your time once more. Or maybe this is his final showdown to really down tear you down, he's heart must be fluttering with excitement.

But you won’t let him, not again.

“i never came here to back down.” He declares only serving to edge you.

It’s so like him.

Never take anything serious. Its all just a fucking joke to him. You shake your head in disbelief. He’ll never fucking change.

“it’s marriage were talking about not some game.” You don't catch how he scrunches his face.

He ignores you for a moment.

“i did genuinely want to do this you know?”

“That’s hard to believe.”

He’s not surprised. It’s be hard to believe you would say or act any other way.

“knowing me like you do yn...”

“i dont know you.” You correct sharply. He’s overestimating himself again.

“You do.”

“You’re overestimating yourself and how you know me.”

He can swear he's heard words of that sort from a his mother. And that’s why he hated something about you. About here he still is...

Sigh.

“do you think i would get married as a joke?”

“i told you, i dont know you.”

“amusing...”

“i’ll have you know i’m serious about this. I  dont know if you are.” He hates how you don’t look at him or turn your body when you speak. Can you ever be civil?

You don’t believe him. “if you aren’t we can get an annulment.”

You could, you really could. But your mind moves over to your mother. Your friends. You haven’t gotten to speak to any of them, your mother especially so you have no clue what she truly and personally thinks of this whole thing. Maybe if she doesn’t support you could get the annulment. But if she supports it and is so happy for you will...not she’s going to hate this.

She’s going to think you’re stupid and this was a mistake. A failure on your part,  cause you were never able to find a proper man on your own. That you’re truly not marriage material. And because of that, you have a rush of adrenaline to prove them wrong. Prove everyone wrong.

“Never came here to quit.”

--

“He’s not that bad...” Jisoo thinks. “...so why aren’t you smiling.” He is your type, she knows that for sure. But you look like you just bit into a candied lemon.

“i am smiling.” you are...well you’re trying. You think you do a good job. Anybody else would be cracking under the pressure of emotions you're feeling. The questioning.

He knew. He fucking knew and still wanted to marry you? You could’ve sworn you were over this, over everything. You were able to do it for the others. If any of your other exes were at the end of the aisle, you would’ve walked out. Because it would be just that easy.

But Jungkook standing up there smiling at you like nothing had happen. Like it was an alternative universe were things progressed like normally just...it’s annoying. He’s annoying.

You’re only doing this for one reason and you need to keep your mind on that. You’d be fool to let that fantasy spark curiosity.

You are a fool though and this is not a dream, it’s the real world. And in it, Jungkook is not the I’m here for you guy, or this kind of guy that he’s trying to be.

He’s a liar.

“I don’t know what you think a smile is; but it’s not that.”

“What do you want me to do!” the words come out tense and sharp. Definitely not a tone you take up with them. And their shock is evident. “You want me to dance around like I’ve married to love of my life.” You wave your hands.

Jisoo looks at Taehyung and he looks back at her. You’re not in the room, your body is and that's how you’re about to hear the chatter of guests. But your mind isn’t, and that's why you can’t decipher what the chatter is about.

Is it about you? What are they saying.

“That’s not what we’re sa-”

“At the end of  the day he’s a stranger so don’t except me to be all jolly.”

What the hell is up with you.

“yn-”

“Excuse me.”

You wish you could storm off, but the dress drags you down.

Stupid dress.

--

“What was her name?” Namjoon asks mockingly “Yn?” he already knew it but the look on jungkook’s face is worth it.

At his response the two laugh and stare and each other mischievously. Namjoon mostly. Jungkook’s brows knit.

“I swear i’ve heard that name before.” Seokjin adds and he can’t help but be disappointed in the older.

“I mean it’s a-” he tries to respond but is loudly interrupted. Is Namjoon drunk? Already?

“-from you.” The silver head interrupts. “i-we’ve heard that name from you.”

He wants to say so what? But he can’t cause it’s many things. From ignorance, denial and even fear. Jungkook has realized that. like he said he has changed. But from what he’s seen you don’t believe that. plus you’re so stubborn and honestly it’s so hard for him to not respond with the same energy.

Jungkook looks around the room, maybe for an exit. But definitely not for you, it’s not possible for you to walk by. Stepping forward and closer to his friends; the words fall out in a plead wrapped in whisper.

“Don't say anything about it.” He wants to sound like he’s warning. “Especially not to her.”

“Why? don’t want to see like a lover boy?” yeah it did hurt when you left him and he may have said somethings to his friends that he should’ve told you instead.

He feared this. how the hell were they able to remember?

“What the hell happened between you two?” Seokjin asks turning the conversation more sincere.

The spot light beams on him to close. There are other things to be done, talked about. Shouldn’t Seokjin be with his wife right now?

“Long story.” It is, if you care for details. But if you don’t care for all the arguments, all the moments shared, he would simply put it that...you were on two different times. And maybe it was his fault for getting carried away and not reinforcing the line, but it was your fault too for not understanding.

He wanted a good time and you wanted a long time. Which at that time was something he was not looking for....for fucks sake he was young. Commitment was the last thing on his mind.

But once you left...the evil—and much scarier—twin of commitment stalked him.

He hated your absence as much as he hated himself for denying how much influence you did have.

“Were not really on good terms right now...so just don’t say anything.”

“My pleasure.” No one wants to be in the middle of that anyaways.

“So are you trying to talk to her?”

If only Seokjin knew how hard it is. 1. Because you’re stubborn and 2. Cause he has no clue how to go about it.

“i am, i really am.” He rubs his chin scrunching his face. “She’s just so hard to talk to.”

--

You hadn’t spoken you your mother yet and something in you didn’t want to. What is she going to say to say you? or say about this? You don't know if you can handle anymore. But the curiosity of it all has you giving in.

“Didn’t think you would come.” You start voice soft. You don’t know where to place your eyes so you look everywhere but her eyes.

She made an effort. The dress she’s in is formal and simple, but it still give mother of the bride who’s trying.

You don’t know if she is actually trying or its just for appearances. She's very conscious of appearances and she definitely implanted that mindset into you growing up.

She’d always get upset with you when you wore silly combinations as a child.

“These colours and textures don't go together yn can’t you see that?” She’d yell as you hold onto the tull of your pink tutu. You were 5 years old. How could she possibly think you’d know what colours and textures go together.

“This is the last time you pickout your own clothes." She was genuinely upset and now that you're grown it shocks you. You didn’t even cried when she striped the ‘awful’ outfit off you, neither did you cry when she throw your favourite toy cause it “looked unpleasant.” it was the most common plushie during that time for children. And what bewildered you more was the fact she's the one who bought if for you. Everything she’d condemn you for, she'd bought.

That’s safe to say, there on you’d never get creative or go out your way to create a stylish outfit. You stuck to everything you knew was safe and acceptable.

“I had to dear, you’re getting married.” She touches your arm and you hate how uncomfortable it makes you feel. Since when has she ever been affectionate? “i’m sorry your dad couldn’t come.” Her tone drops like the topic is taboo. It can be.

You didn’t even want to think of him. You knew and were sure even when you were a tween— that your father would never attend your wedding. Though you'd think about it or plan it or even wanted it; you’d never thought you’d get married. You only talked about it cause your friend's did, and honestly it was fun to atleast think about it.

Cause of all that, and being sheltered from many things you thought all men were like your father. And for sure as your went through life you were proven right. Jungkook included.

You brush your fingers over the area she’d touched. “it’s fine.” You never cared, you learnt how not to. “Didn’t think he would anyways.”

Your mother frowns. Over the years she’s come to realise how their parenting and relationship have affected you. But you being grown now and with her own conflicts, would an apology change anything about you? “He did want to be here, you know that? it’s just...”

You scoff. You'd believe you can see in the dark after eating carrots before you believe that.

“...me marrying a stranger i know.” You end her sentence for her. She doesn’t need to tell you, and you hate how she’s clearly forcing herself to speak on it.

“You know how he is.” You do, but one thing you wish for is the ability to understand it. Cause it doesn’t make sense to you. How can somebody be so cold and uncaring to their own child.  You were a planned child and they had you when they had good jobs and enough money, so you were not a burden in that area.  So nothing makes sense. “Are you happy?”

Your mind glitches at the question. Your first instinct is to nod and smile,  but you can’t do that.

Are you? What’s happiness for you. Its always been; not failing and doing the right thing. You’ve done that and what? Are you happy.

Of course you’ve loved every award every grade you’ve gotten as well, and even the promotions at work. But honestly they never feel enough. And now you’re married. It should be the ultimate win as your mother would think. But you failed at the most important part...

Marry the love of your life.

You nod anyways, cause words could expose you.

She smiles. You’re glad she’s never been the person to ask twice cause you might just break if you’re asked one more time. “That’s good, cause he looks like a really nice man.”

What would she know about nice men. If you weren’t worried before; you’re terrified now.

“You deserve the best and i hope he’ll be that.” You can hear the choke in her voice. This would be the first time you ever see her cry about something you’ve accomplished,  but again your dad isn’t here.

“mom--” you whine your own tears threatening, you love your mother, and you have no idea if that's a gift or a curse.

She doesn’t let the tears stop her. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, you know that?” You are? It’s hard to let the words sink in deeper but you acknowledge the possibility.

Even from that your tears fall. Gosh....Jisoo’s gonna be so mad at you. “You’re so smart, so beautiful.” Her hands hold each side of your arm.

She’s so grateful you have those friends of yours. They had told her, you went dress shopping together and it hurt that she couldn’t be there. But atleast you had people who could help you pick out such a wonderful dress. It’s better than anything she could choose. And she tries her best to not question the jewellery,  cause your husband bought it for you. But it does look good together.

Putting whatever has happened aside you pull her into a hug. One which she reciprocates. It feels nice, really nice to hug her in so long.

When was the last time you hugged? You can’t even remember.

“i’m sorry your dad is so stubborn.”  She tries not to lean on your dress.

You wish she could stop bringing him up.

“It’s not your fault” she’s always apologsing for him and you hate it. You pull away.

You’re wiping your tears. And like in disbelief to herself she speaks to herself. “I should’ve married a better man huh?” she questions. She’s asked herself that many times. Would she have been different if she had married somebody else, somebody she loved, maybe you would’ve been better. She has no clue and she'll never know. You both will never know.

“But don’t let him know that.” She asks jokingly and you shake your head with a laugh. It’s not like you’ll be talking to him.

After a moment of self collection she speaks a bit calmer. “Be happy okay? Make this marriage work. I really want you to be happy—”

Can you be happy with him? No. So maybe that’s the one thing you’ll disappoint your mother on. It pains you to say.

So the least you can do is not have kids with him. You won't get that far anyways, so you’re good.

“Yn—” a voice too comfortable for your liking calls out for you. You’re both startled as he approaches immediately smiling as he sees your mother. She smiles about at him too. You don't share the sentiment, first he’s interrupting for whatever reason and second,  he just ruins your mood.

“Oh—hello mrs y/l/n” He says. He hadn’t spotted her because of how you stand.

“Hi dear.” She coos and its so irritating,  maybe she wanted a son instead.  She immediately pulls jungkook into a hug he does not expect. They'd only just glanced at eachother and now that he’s speaking to her, he has no clue what to say. He was not prepared.

But she’s so welcoming he doesn’t feel like he needs to be prepared. He can be free with her.

The hug feels warm he does want to pull away cause he’s getting distracted.

“How are you feeling?” she asks warmly, hands still connected to his biceps, patting him.

“I’m feeling okay. How are you?” He can’t help but be so formal and tense. He’s comforted and relaxes when she tells him he doesn’t have to be so.

“you’re my son now, relax.” She says and he has to hold himself especially when you stare him down like he wasn’t meant to be here, like he didn’t deserve the feeling.

He clears his throat.

“Just little emotional but i’ll be fine.” She says it so animatedly. You stare in awe at the woman. Maybe it was the fact that you were a girl that was the problem. You let out a sharp breath that no one notices. Honestly you want to walk away but something makes you stay. Mainly cause you want to know what jungkook wanted to say. Which he’s taking too long to.

“You’re such a handsome man.” She compliments. Instinctively, her hands move to his tie , that must’ve shifted as he walked around. She goes in to fix it and Jungkook freezes. He watches her hands tease the fabric, every pull feeling like a pull at his heart instead. “I hope you two make each other happy.”

She smiles, but jungkook has always learnt to read people,  adults especially.  He can see the pleading wrapped in deep sincerity and fear. He empathises with that.

“i’ll do that.” He declares. It’s a promise cause he will. he'll try his best. His eyes move to you and it looks like he’s failing already. “i just hope she’ll do the same.” He laughs.

Your roll your eyes  and your mother doesn’t catch it cause she would be lecture you. Or maybe she did.

All of this is unnecessary. She shouldn't be endorsing jungkook, if she really cared about you.

Your mother has always been good at spotting tension, between lovers especially. But she won’t comment. You like to retaliate so she won’t get into it. Not at your wedding. She assumes it’s already enough that she’s here, after saying she wouldn’t come.

“Well—if she  gives you any trouble—” she mimics a phone with her hand.

Jungkook laughs. “I’m an easy man to please so it should be that difficult.”

The pretence is killing you. He’s so fake. Both of them are.

“You wanted to say something?.” The air turns cold immediately. You just want to know what he wants. And if it’s something stupid...

Jungkook clears his throat feeling that tension returning in his body. “i was just coming to say, the photographer is waiting.”

That’s what he wanted to say? You’re sure you would've found out eventually. He didn’t have to be the one to tell you, or maybe Jisoo or Tae could’ve. Maybe even his own groomsmen. Just anyone but him.

“Pictures?” You question like you hadn’t know that the day would get to this point. Honestly you were hoping it wouldn’t. Where are the photographers that flake out? You need those.

“Do you not wan-” Jungkook asks but is cut off by your concerned mother.

“Yn you have to have pictures.” She declares softly but it lands like thunder in your ears.

Do you? You have to have even more evidence that this is real? It honestly feels like one of those things she forces you to do.

You will do it. "I was just surprised.” Jungkook watches how you turn your eyes away,  not like you did with him in anger—no— but in surrender. To your mother.

“Everybody’s down stairs.” He adds soft eyes still on you. You’re biting your inner cheek.

“I’ll go ahead you two talk.” Your mother says winking to anyone of you as she walks off.

You want to walk off to but jungkook speaks before you get the chance to.

You inch away from him, again.

“Are you okay?” his voice is soft and patient. Wanting to claw deeper into you.  But you won't let him.

“i’m fine.” You fold your arms over your chest, ignoring the worry of it wrinkling.

He should honestly just avoid you or walk away cause unlike your mother you won’t be taking any form of lie or fakery from him. From the get go you’re gonna let him no you don't care for this marriage or him. “Why are y-ow.”

You flinch.

It was inevitable. If you bit down any harder you'd poke a hole to the outside. But even with the tiny slip, you bleed.

“Let me see.” It’s not an ask. You have no time to respond when he’s grabbing your chin softly. You want to protest but the cut and the blood that spews is distracting.

You open your mouth shyly and he turns you head inspecting. You feel stupid, but he doesn’t pay mind to your knitted brows. Honestly he couldn’t careless about your attitude right now.

It’s not bad your body will probably heal it by itself. But you’re still bleeding. “You still do that?”

“What?” You try to speak. When he let’s your chin go you try your best not to get the blood on the dress. That would wreck your mood.

“Bite your cheek.”  He reminds. You’ve never stopped, but it’s just today that you've gone to far and caused a cut. You wish he could stop pretending like he knows you or cares.

“I’ve told you about that.”

Oh please–you roll your eyes so hard they’ll fall out next.

“I’m fine.”

He hates when you say that and you're clearly are not. Why can’t you just be free, trust him even just a miniscule of how you hate him.

“Here.” He reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. He hands it you and you look at it for a second. Your dress is going to stain.

After giving into the subtext of it all, you get the cloth to spit into it.

When you’re done, you fold it, not knowing where to put it cause you have no pockets. You have to throw  it, he won’t take it back. You wouldn’t take it back. He alleviates your struggle and has you widening your eyes when he takes the cloth and places it were it initially was.

In sickness and in health, right?

“What were you saying.” He ask once that’s over with. He’s still curious about what you were trying to say.

You don't even want to speak anymore. You don’t want to be here. But you know it’ll itch at your throat so you say it anyways.

“Why are you pretending?” You try your best to stare him in the face.

He tilts his head. “Pretending?”

“Yeah.” You taste Iron but not from the blood.

Jungkook let’s out a warm sigh. “I’m sorry you think that.” Is he serious. He’s not at least going to confess that he’s pretending. You don’t even know why he’s doing it. It’s not going to change anything. Unless that's his way of fucking with you.

“Forget it." You can’t get anywhere with him. “People should be waiting for us.”

He laughs. This is going to be interesting. 

“We should probably hold hands.” For realism. “Or maybe that would be too prentenious me?”

“Fuck off.”

--

Your hand is loose in his, and immediately you get the chance you pull away, you do.

Getting announced as mrs Jeon, you doubt you’ll get used to or you won’t roll your eyes everytime you hear it.

It honestly doesn’t feel like it's you they’re talking about.

You’ll be fine as long as you’re away from him. It’s easisr to forget he’s around when you’re with your friends.

With them is when you’re able to loosen up and dance. The music booming is enough to block any emotion that tries to come through,

You do want to make the best of this night, with your friends.

It doesn’t last long when a brooding figure walks over standing next to you.

“i’m sorry can i steal her from you?”

No no no. You plead in your mind,

“Sure, go ahead.” You frown at your friends for just letting you go so easily. Is this how this whole thing is going is going be? It shocks you that not even Taehyung protests. Where is the hate? the dislike that he once professed. This would be the perfect time for him to live up to his words.

Once jungkook gets what he wanted; you and him in the crowd and away from your comfort zone, you ask.

“What do you want?”

“Want to dance with you.” He tries to pull you in but you pull away the arm he reaches for. You don’t look at him kindly and he would be discouraged by that if he didn’t know you.

You both look around. People drink and dance and the bride and groom can barely be in the same room.

“Why?”

“Why?” He chuckles. You can’t decipher what type of chuckle it is, condescending? Mocking? He thinks his better than you type of chuckle? You try to to decipher it. But if you only paid attention to the way he’s eyes soften,  you would’ve realised its a hurt chuckle. “Am i not allowed?” he stares.

“it’s just--”

“just what?”

It’s just that he’s too casual with this. He doesn’t understand the weight of your unanswered quetions. Quetions you can’t bring to the surface, let alone at such a time. Questions that would not do much for you but feed your anger towards him.

“Relax for once..Yn” He tried his best not to say it, not when you’re still a boiling pot tipping over every second you see him. You’d get defensive and he knows it. So he just waits.

“I'm too relaxed actually.” Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Hell only knows half of what you'd do.

That’s the difference with you two.

You don’t want to dance with him. So when the host announces that it’s time for the groom and bride dance, you want the earth to swallow you.  But knowing it, it would spit you right back and reverse time just so that you can go through this another time.

Jungkook is too comfortable with this too. But people are watching and he reminds you of that. You hate how you agree with him. People who think you’re not dreading this union and are happy for you should at least see you happy.

You relax only for that reason.

One hand lays stiff on his chest, the other is held by him, and you hate how soft he holds it. You told him to stop pretending.

You sway, his hand on your lower back. You try your hardest to be closer to him in a way that doesn’t raise suspicion or betray yourself.

jungkook betrayed himself long before all of this. He betrayed himself the moment you walked in through the door and he watched you leave. He was livid that day and if he did follow after you he wouldn’t have known what to say. But maybe a simple “Please stay”  would’ve sufficed but it’s exactly what you were running from. Having to stay with no possibility of progression. He hates the universe for bringing you to him when he was where he was. He won’t betray himself this time. Maybe his self respect will be in a way, betrayed, cause he takes every blow you give and comes back for another.

Jungkook is by your ear and you can hear the tiny breaths he puffs out. Does he know he doesn’t need to get this close to make it believed. You battle with where to place your hand, right now it lays on his beating heart—you can feel its pace quickens each second — you can’t move it further or any lower, so you keep it there. Hating the evidence of his presence existence.

“I missed you.” He whispers weakly.

You freeze.

He can feel your muscles lock. He shouldn’t have said that. Fuck.

It’s what you would’ve wanted to hear. Not anymore, not now. Right now the words run acid down your throat and your heart burns.

He made his choice long ago. He doesn’t get to come back and tell you whatever he feels like to draw you in. It won’t work. He wasted your time before and you let him and even though he is in the position to do it right now, you won’t let him.

You’re not needy and desperate for love anymore. And after this, the word love tastes like lime.

“let me go Jungkook.”

You say slowly pulling away. When does this song fucking end?

He panics internally but he doesn’t let go. You’ll thank him later(he knows you won't.) Cause he knows you'd hate to make a scene.

He was warning his friends not to say anything when really he should’ve been telling himself that.

“Yn...”

“No.” You reject whatever he wants to say. Whatever lie his mind has come up with.  Its been working overtime he should let it rest.

You slowly but firmly try to pull away, but he holds you tighter. If only he knew how close you are to the edge of not caring about the eyes around. Your frustration converts into a physical form; tears in your eyes and saying words you never intended to bring up. “You always say what you want, when it’s beneficial for you.”

Is it? Is any of this benficial for him.

“What do you need from me huh?.”  He looks down at you, maybe you'll finally realise how serious he is. He’s begging you, begging  you to say even an inkling of what you truly want. Even if it’s not him.

“i need you to leave me alone.” You tell him.

False. He won’t believe that.

“i can’t do that.” He shakes his head. “i mean-we’re married.”

At this point you stop swaying and stand in eachother’s arms like a statue in a French museum.

“i-i know.” You hate that that do. Marriage can bind you by law but it can't bind your emotions and feelings. “But you’ll figure it out.”

Your hands slip off him but he still has one touch on you.

“You want me to wait?” he would. The words come out a little sharper than intended. But its too heated to retract or clarify.

“just leave me alone.”

He finally let’s you go and you walk off as fast as the gown will let you.

“Everything okay?” Taehyung immediatley walks up to him.

“i-i don’t know.”

Taehyung frowns. From his view it just looks like you got irritated. You have been for some reason today. And jungkook must not know who who deal with it, being a stranger and all. The poor guy looks stunned. What did you say to him?

Laying a warm and comforting hand on his back taheyung says, “don’t beat yourself... it must be the nerves getting to her.” He says knowing how overwhelmed you can get and react.

“Probably” jungkook doesn’t even look at your frend but when he does he’s met with a comforting smile. One he can return. “Can you check on her for me?”

Taehyung nods already on his way through the direction he saw you walk.

.

Your body shivers. You've never had to go through this many emotions before at once. Hatred for yourself,  for him, for everyone. Everything wrong that has happened to you has happened because you let it get to you. You’re not cut out for this. You would’ve walked away at the aisle but now...and for what?

“Yn?” You flinch at the sound like Taehyung’s voice. He can’t see you like this. What the hell are you going to tell him. “Are you okay?” he asks.

How can you say you are when you clearly aren’t. How can you say words when your voice will betray you for.

“Can i open the door?”

No you can’t. You’ll just cry more.

“No.”

Taehyung’s taken aback by your response,  what the hell happened.  Normally you'd let him in immediately,  even before he said a word. “Tell me what's wrong.”

Should you? Maybe if you did, it would alleviate some pressure. But if you did tell him you’d have to explain more  than you’re ready for.

“He’s my ex Tae.”

He knits his brows. You’re joking. You are. He thinks you are, but then he remembers you’re not that creative or funny.

Your silence raises more questions than answers.

“I’m coming in.” And he does. The door was open nothing really was stopping him from walking in but respect.

“What did you say?” he says when he's finally in.

“He’s my ex.” Honestly you were just a hook up to him, so can you even calm him your ex?

“How don’t i know him?” Taehyung immediately sits down at the closest surface to you. It must be like a change room or something. None have gotten the chance to explore the venue beyond the occupied areas.

Taehyung watches you fight your tears, which is something he wishes you would stops doing. But you never listen.

“Never wanted to tell you guys.” You can’t even look at him. He probably thinks you don't trust him or Jisoo,  and you're such a bad friend. If you fail at this what can you do? You don't want to acknowledge it to anyone,  but you’re just embarrassed.

As well as you trust them and are your friends, you’re just too embarrassed to tell them some things. Plus, they'd get upset if they knew anyways.  And you hate when your friends are upset with you.

“Jisoo doesn’t know too?”

You shake your head.

He sighs. There's probably a reason why you didn’t want to tell them but now is not the time to ask.

He can’t help his heart fill bitterness, he must’ve hurt you. You never cry like this. “Come here.” He says pulling you into a hug. You make sure not to stain his suit.

You’ve already stained your dress. You hope there nothing the dry cleaners can't do. “You wanna stay married?”

The question is heavy and you’ve only realised you haven’t thought of it or the answer. ”There’s nothing i can do, Tae.” Your tears dry leaving salt paths.

There is definitely something you can do. Annulment. And you and Taehyung both know that. He knows you know. “You still love him?”

“Tae...” you pull away slowly. It does feel a little better to tell someone.

“don’t tell me. We’’ll talk.”

But there’s no talking needed.

“i don’t.” You swallow hard. “My mom just looks so happy for me. I don’t want to disappoint her. She really believes in this.” You speak your thoughts rumbling past your decision maker. There's nothing taehyung doesn't know about you so it's fine. “She came all the way—and—i can’t i just can’t.” Your throat closes and the tears flood your eyes again.

Taehyung immediately pulls you into him, this time your head lays right on his suit. It's not important right now.

“Don’t talk. It’s okay.”

“is she okay?” jungkool Immediately places a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder when he spots him.

Taehyung stares at the hand. Jungkook pulls back.

“What did you say?” Taehyung asks anything but interested in letting him know anything else.

“is she okay?”

“she’s fine.” He spits out. “what did you do to her?” Taehyung inches closer.

“nothing.” Jungkook defends but Taehyung is anything but satisfied.

“You dated?” he continues to press in. What the hell happened,  what did you say?

No matter what you said or made him look, he can only take that tone from a few people. And this guy he barely knows won’t be one.

“i’m not going to talk about that with you.”

“You are.”

Jungkook chuckles and finally looks at Taehyung who’s never stopped looking at him.

“i understand where you’re coming from, but i need to talk to her first.”

He’s needs him to understand that.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

Of course you don't, he expected it. But now you can’t run from him for forever.  Eventually you will talk to him. “That’s fine, i’ll wait.”

Taehyung laughs. “i knew there was something i didn’t like about you.”

What does he want him to do about that?

“That’s a shame.”

--

This is the part of the night you were dreading. You’ve always been able to deal with things with your friends around, they make it easier. It’s either them or work. You love to drown yourself in projects, assignments too. But you prefer your friends.

But you have none right now.

And a day from now you’ll have none of them for two weeks.

You also said good bye to your mother not knowing when you’d see her again. You invited her to yours but she was quick to turn it down.

“it’s your wedding night I can’t do that.” she blushed and you rolled your eyes.

You were not going to be doing anything with him—you can’t even imagine it-- let alone would you be staying in the same house.

It’s the new age; you don’t have to stay in the same house with your marriage partner. Not if you don’t have anything for each other anyways.

You both sit at either end of the car, staring out the window.

Your leg bounces, as you tease at your nails. Your father would curse at you for that, but honestly, he’d curse at so many other things he wouldn’t get the chance. A minute ago you discovered that you could see Jungkook’s reflection and it fueled your anger. You shake your head. Trying not to be childish you no longer stare at the window, there was never anything for you anyways.

Jungkook barely said bye to his parents or friends, he couldn’t when he was too busy wondering where his mother was or why she couldn’t just stay longer. But she promised to talk later.

Though he doubts it’s going to come.

He can’t go home. Since it’s night, his mother can’t drive (doesn’t want to.) And his dad can’t at night. Namjoon drove them to his. They’ll be leaving later on. And even though he knows that the night is short, even that would be too long to be around them.

She never even said congratulations.

“Can i stay at yours?” he speaks into the silence, its dumb to ask considering you don't like him much right now.

You should’ve cooled down now, at least. Though he can tell you’re dreading his presence.

“No.” Its so stupid of him to even ask “You’re not homeless are you?” it’s funny how embarrassment can transition to anger so smoothly.

“it’s fine.” He was stupid for asking. But the thought of going home right now is probably worse than the feeling you feel if hating him. He was just hoping for that part of you that always welcomed him. “i’m not gonna beg.” It’s a chant he’s been telling himself since he was a kid. Has it been effective...somebody else would have to be the judge of that.

“Didn’t expect you to.” You preferred he didn’t speak at all. Let alone bring up the idea of you being in one box again...hasn’t he had enough?

A silence eats at both of you until be breaks it.

“My parents are staying there.”

You turn to look at him. He doesn’t look to you. You turn back with a frown.

Why is he telling you that? He loves to be the victim so bad. So what? He wants pity from you?

“House not big enough?”

“No.” Maybe if he had a larger house he’d be able to hide in his many rooms.

“You don’t speak anymore?” Why the fuck are you even talking. Shut up.

“We spoke before the wedding.” He watches the neon lights change as the driver drives buy everything. Right now, with how he's feeling,  he'd either be in a club or a girl’s bed. None of that now. He has to endure it all or find another method. “But last time was on her birthday. It was my dad i spoke to though.” He can remember the way his voice lowered in tone and excitement when his father picked up instead.  “She didn’t even pick up her own phone.”

Your try not to think further but you would expect that from his mother. “Your dad looked happy.” At least for him. You didn’t get to speak to them but you saw it. You wish you could’ve spoken to his father. He’s a lovely man.

“He was. And your da-“ he’s gotten to comfortable but he doesn’t realize.

“You can if you want.” You interrupt, you're not going to get into that.

His head snaps to you but you hide behind your palm over your mouth, almost like you regret speaking the words. “Doesn’t sound like you want me there.” He runs a hand through his hair. He told Seokjin not to use this gel. He cringes at the tackiness of it.

“i’ll just stay at nam-”

“Don’t be so smug.” There it is. You lasted longer than you thought.

“Me?” but he’s the only person you're talking to so it must be him.

“Yeah. Take the offer or leave it.”

His chuckle lasts two breathes. “I want you to hear yourself...”  he prepares to mock your tone. “you can if you want. Does that sound genuine?”

Maybe it’s not. Maybe you just want him to shut up.

“Take it or leave it.” You ignore his false recreation of you.

The silence falls again. This time he has something to think about.

He doesn’t want to be at his, and he doesn’t want to bother Seokjin. He could go to namjoon’s but its too far, and even still the older would have too many questions. He doesn’t want to deal with that too.

Your attitude is honestly manageable.

“You still fucking amaze me.”

-

He eyes everything that he sees, its definitely like you. Did you just move in? Cause its not decorated in any sort of way. The pale grey and cream walls lay interchangeably on each wall.

It’s still nice though.

“You’ll sleep here.” You say opening your guest bedroom,  just as simple as the rest of your house. Is your bedroom the same?

You reach into the closet where you store the sheets and pull them out one by one.

"But i wanted to sleep with you.” The look you give him when he says that is laughable. Can you not decern or take a joke. “i’m joking.” He laughs awkwardly.

He shouldn’t be joking with you, you’re not interested. “Don’t. I could kick you out.”

He laughs drier, but you don’t catch it cause of the ruffling of the blanket you pull out.

“Do it.” He says, not knowing how serious he is. He takes off his tie and throws it on the dresser. He’s so like taehyung,  and just like taehyung he’ll have to learn the hard away about how you like things in your apartment. “Would only take minutes for an uber to arrive.”

Is he really trying you? Does he think you care  if he’s walking out the street in the middle of the night? Scoff. “Just take the fucking covers.”

And that's all. All he needs are here and you can finally to your room and relax. That's all you really want to do right now.

“yn?” You roll your eyes when he calls out your name before you retreat out the room.

“What.”

He'll ignore. “i have nothing to change into.” He spreads his arms for you to take in his attire, like you haven’t already been burdened with the sight.

You groan. You have no idea what you could give him to wear, does he think this is some hotel. But as you rummage through the closet of your own room, you manage to pull out some sweats and a t-shirt from an ex. “here.” You say bringing it to him.

He eyes them once, then twice then he looks at you. You definitely don’t own those, their too masculine.  So now he’s compelled to ask.

“Who are those from?”

What does it matter, you wanna cuss out but choose not to.

“An ex, take it or not. I don’t care.” You really don’t care. You’ve done Your part and you’re not required to do more.

“i don’t either” he doesn’t mind walking around here like he does at home. “...but i’m not wearing that. and out of respect i wouldn’t want to walk around here naked.”

You mumble about him being a baby.  Can’t he just wear it. They’re good, clean and would definitely fit him. So what if they were from an ex? You would...would you?

“What do you want me to give you my shorts?”

“i would prefer.” He retorts quickly.

And you know this conversation won’t go anywhere, if your just give him what he wants and right now you’re willing to do that only because its gonna benefit you.

“Oh my gosh you’re so unbelievable.”

“I’m not as bad as you think.”

“i wish.” You mumble.

Retreating into your room and rummaging one more you manage to find something he could wear. You hope he can. Unfortunately it’s only bottoms.

“Here these are Taehyung’s.” You present the linen pajama pants that Taehyung had left some time ago and never bothered to get back. You stretch your hand out lazily and he just stares at them. “If you won’t take these then you can call that uber.” You don't look at him when you say you say the words, it's more the smirk on his lips that you look at.

You relax when he reaches out to take them. He’s like dealing with a toddler.

“i don’t think he likes me much.” He adds making you stay in the room. Jungkook still looks around. It irritates you when he sits on your bed. He shouldn’t be this comfortable and blending in with the environment.

“I don’t blame him.” You fold your arms. He takes off his shoes and when you stare at them hard as he lines them up.

You want to get out of this dress too. Maybe soak it a little. Bright and early tomorrow your gonna take it to the dry cleaners.

“We should talk don’t you think?”

Your body stiffens.

“i’ve had a long day.”

Like you hadn’t shared the same day.

“We had the same day.” He informs you.

You laugh.

“i don’t remember you walking don’t the aisle to your ex.”

He pauses at unbuckling his belt...you should really walk out.

“Really?”

It clicks that you did have the same day, but you had it worse cause he didn’t seem like he cared. “Whatever...” you roll your eyes.

You clean this room everyday, even though you rarely expect any guests apart from taehyhng and Jisoo who most of the time stay in your room.

So it’s irritating and weird that all your efforts of cleaning and everything you've done in this room goes to...him.

“Some would say i’ve had it worse.”

Of course he would think that. But what some would say doesn't matter.

“You wanna be the victim so bad.”

It offends him how you just assume, you never care to ask.

“i don’t wanna be anything.” He shakes his head denying the claim. “i’m not the one who wants to argue.”

The laugh that leaves your mouth is sharp and dismissive. You're about to lose your mind. Now you can be free just being the two of you. No pretend touches or posing for cameras.

“i don’t want to argue. Just to let you know. ” you barely want to talk to him. Why the hell would you want to argue? its not your fault you get angry when he opens his mouth.

“Then why are we still talking?”

You swallow. Who does he think he is? Does he realise he’s walking around in your house, wearing your clothes and in your sheets?

“it’s my house. And you’re barely a guest just to let you know.” Your voice raises with each word. He can’t talk to you like that. He should be apologising. He should be a little more respectful and grateful that he’s here right now and not in the cold. He should get off his high horse.

“You should call that uber.”

He sighs at your words. How much of it can he take? You’re making this hard for him.

Making him feel like it's a waste of time.

“Call it, Yn.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/n: 😏😏 what did you think? I hope you liked it.

anyways I hope you enjoyed.

same time next week?

Lets discuss in the replies 🖐😊

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[rinsko]

THAT FUNNY LITTLE GIRL ♡ GOJO SATORU

he hopes this lifetime will be enough to love.

papa! gojo washes his baby’s hair, what could go wrong! jumping thru the timeline, multiple times. sfw, fluff. approx. two thousand word count. he is filled to the brim with love.

“daddy?” his baby calls for him, satoru, who happens to be sitting right beside her bathtub— criss-crossed legs, paying less and less mind to the cold tile floor that’s making his skin shiver, and more on what she has to say.

“yeah baby?” he’s just down the hall, but you’ve begun to pick apart how his voice, with every syllable, sounds so fond when he speaks to her: his very precious girl.

you hear the gentle hum she hums for a quick second, the mumbling, jumbling of her words as she sorts out what she wants to say and then, “why’s the sky blue?”

★ ‎

there’s a bathtub marker in her hand when she asks, the very same ones satoru was so incredibly persistent on buying at your last shopping store run—

“bathtub markers?” he hears the quirk in your eyebrow before he has a chance to see it, holding the pack of eight in his hand like it’s the greatest invention yet.

“yup! we need them!” he stands side by side with his mini me— matching pairs of silly puppy dog eyes appear on their faces and a dramatic pout fixed to both their lips.

he whispers what he thinks you won’t hear, covering his lips behind the palm of his hand as he kneels to her side. “pst…” he hisses comically loud, “we need to say please, sunshine.”

“pease!” no please, (she’s much cuter about this whole ordeal than he is—) she nods her head as she swings her feet back and forth, fluttering without a sound.

could you guess what’s harder than saying no to her? satoru would vote it’s probably saying: goodbye!

your heart aches lovingly, too impossible to resist— “‘toru, it sounds like you want them more than she does.” grabbing the bundle of markers, you flip them to the side, skimming through its directions and their warnings.

“me?!” he says in the least dramatic tone he could possibly mutter, “are you denying our baby of an artistic future?” and then there’s a hand over his face again. he covers the gasping motion he’s currently molded into, “that she’s not destined to be the next picasso?”

“she’s three! how would you know?” funny grins paint over both your faces because it’s a bittersweet thought: her future, who’ll she be and what’ll become of her.

“there’s an artist inside that little heart, i can feel it.” he’s determined to stick to the skit, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing with a promising certainty for it all.

it’s even funnier when he knows he’s won too: when you hand over the markers to your baby’s pudgy fingers, he has that face plastered on. same one as every other time he’s won you over on something hilariously trivial.

“so honey,” focusing, you decide to actively ignore the cutest dimples on the corner of his smile, “what will you draw when you get home today?”

“f’owers” she points at the red marker, “more for you!” an obvious reference to the dozen roses she’s seen on the dinner table.

“you’re so sweet! i know you’ll draw me the prettiest flowers, my love!” you kiss the tip of her nose as tiny pearly whites form a cheeky smile in return— “ahem.” satoru follows slowly behind you both as you begin to stroll down the aisle again.

“and for daddy,” the coast is clear so you take the chance to stop and spread your arms as wide as you can, “you draw him the biggest, blue sky that matches his eyes!”

she giggles at the dramatics, your stretched out arms and satoru’s loving gaze directed toward you— she mimics these two things. “big sky ‘nd daddy!” and it’s true, your satoru carries the big sky wherever he goes.

★ ‎

“uhmm..” he thinks hard about it, rubbing the nape of his neck, setting his glasses down to the side— how exactly do you explain the color of the sky to a toddler?

he scoots in a little closer now, splashing sounds echoing around while she fidgets with the other toys in the bath, “so, the light from mr. sun is made of all the colors of the rainbow. do you know which ones?”

satoru picks out the markers in the same exact pattern he’s memorized— red, orange, yellow, green in her hand, blue, and the purple that seems the closest to violet.

she doesn’t sound very interested, yet. but you doubt it as long as there’s paddling turtles wound up and clicking across the bubbly water; her attention’s obviously elsewhere.

satoru uncaps the yellow marker first: forming one big, rigid circle against the shower wall that represents the sun— followed by streaks of all the other colors in his hands stretching away from it, representing light.

“like this,” he says, “all the colors of the rainbow.” he returns the green marker she had at first, happily holding onto the object again.

“but ms. earth,” a cake of blue forms as the felt tip rolls around in one spot, “likes blue the best. so, she makes her sky blue.” and with that, your baby blinks up at him like a doll— eyelashes pinched into the perfect curl, and he wonders if he’s only confused her even more.

“oh.” it’s funny how somber-toned she sounds— oh, the same tone you’d use after hearing the most unbelievable truth (or a lie!) the utter shock, the disbelief… that oh.

“just kidding!” he gleams brightly now as she watches. apparently, it had been enough to grab her attention even for the slimmest second.

satoru drops the markers back in the bathtub net where she had placed them, settling within her reach.

“the sky’s blue because daddy’s eyes are blue.”

and if he gleams, his baby does too, “i knew it!”

(he promises to explain himself to you a little later. surely, hopefully, you must forgive him and his little, white lie!)

“oh, you did?” satoru settles his knees as close as he can to the tub now, minimizing all the space he can as he reaches for the shampoo bottle on the edge of the tub, “isn’t my little girl so clever? yes, the smartest!”

she giggles, water splashing around as she moves closer towards her daddy’s arms— completely used to this routine by now, “mm, like papa.”

once he squeezes the bottle, he thinks his heart’s being squeezed too. watching chamomile-scented soap pour onto the palm of his hands, he smiles. “you think i’m clever, sunshine?”

“sometimes.” but she’s off in her own little world again, drawing on the wall with her favorite turtle beside her.

he supposes he will take what he can get.

with a gentle rinse to her hair, satoru begins to form a gentle lather along the crown of her head, “i want to be a clever daddy for you,” he says.

you know it comes with no thought, as if the words have simply fallen out and onto his tongue before they’ve finally reached his head, “a good papa.”

and it’s happened so frequently, he jokes with you about how she must have some sort of technique to pull out the honest truth from anyone— even without trying to.

“you just love her, satoru.”

★ ‎

amidst the grogginess of the morning and eyes closed shut, you tell him that much. it’s all you can grumble out when your firefly of a husband rises before the sun.

he claims it’s early morning clarity— when your mind is filled with everything and nothing. all you can do it spill your heart out. not much you can do to help it.

he loves this part of the day with you.

“i do. a lot.” he says in one lasting breath, just before shifting from being your big spoon to peek over at the baby monitor on his bedside table for the… nth time.

if she didn’t make him feel like his entire life was worth it, maybe he wouldn’t look at her so often. but she does, not even aware of it, with a leg dangling off the bed. plushies used for pillows rather than the pillows themselves.

it doesn’t scare him as much as it used to: the act of loving, and the acting of expressing it— the act of admitting just how much he does.

“she loves you too.”

★ ‎

with the soapy suds spilling over his knuckles, between his fingers and the strands of her hair, satoru notices something new.

he twirls a finger around the ends of her hair, strands strong and smooth— as he realizes they’re starting to curve around the shell of her ear on its own, when he doesn’t remember it doing that before.

and as he lowers his gaze, the soapy lather following along, he sees the longest strands of his baby’s hair are bound to meet the back of her neck. nape, ears and shoulders all meeting someone new.

satoru forgets that time goes by fast, especially when you’re filled with love to spare. “when did you start growing up so fast, sunshine?”

she shrugs.

the strength in his knees give out, landing him right back down onto the tile floor; feet tucked underneath his body. “it’s too fast.” he murmurs so lowly, you can barely catch on to what’s been said.

too fast to watch her go— but don’t say it out loud, satoru doesn’t have the heart to finish or hear the rest.

she’ll be able to say please, even without him asking her to. she’ll be able to pronounce her l’s until she loses her two front teeth. she’ll hold onto his hand, and he’ll hold onto her.

then, it’ll be time for school. and she’ll be leaving his side as a big girl now, with a lunch bag he’s packed and a slipping backpack over her shoulder— yes, inevitably, that’s going to happen too, just as he has before.

and if that’s right around the corner, then so is every other phase, inevitably— and the rest of her life from then on. it’s going to happen one day: where satoru’s baby is no longer a baby and he will have to let her go.

“‘toru.” he turns to you, towel in hand, pressing weight against the wall’s edge. “what’re you weepin’ about now, baby?”

your daughter turns to face him in a heartbeat, curious.

“crying?” voice trembling, he nudges his cheek into his sleeve in attempts to hide any evidence, big hands still in need of rinsing along with her hair. “who’s crying?”

stepping closer, you hang the towel over the hook before sitting right next to his side, “because you never cry, especially at random times.” you poke once at his ribs.

“you’re starting to get me, sweetness.” then, he dips his fingers into the water, bubbly foam parting ways from his skin. it falls down her shoulders when he rinses her off, all done with the bath, and having a little time to play.

you watch him for a while, trying to identify the cause and while trying to make small talk— you mention something without much thought, “her hair has gotten a lot longer now.”

his voice, it’s tinier than you’ve ever expected it to be, “i know…” a sniffle divides his sentence, a proper pause, “she’s growing up so fast.”

“ah… so, that’s what this is about.”

you rest your head over his shoulder, still feeling as in love as ever, “you’re cute, you know that?” he rests his in return. “we still have hundreds of days together.” you watch the way she draws on the wall, enjoying her happiness as if it were your own.

“it doesn’t feel like enough.” he says.

“i don’t think it’ll ever be enough.” no, it never will. “maybe we’re greedy like that, honey.” yes, you know this.

he knows he is. because there’s a bright sun in the blue sky with red roses to bring it all together, just like she promised.

“finished!” she looks back at you two, hands in the air in celebration of her brand new masterpiece being born.

“oh! they’re so pretty!” sweet enthusiasm in your voice, you give her all the attention in the world. “just perfect!”

you begin to ask her the little things, every detail you could think of and she could find an answer to, all while wrapping her in the warm towel you hung up earlier.

satoru’s gotten up from the floor too, taking it all in until she calls for him again, “that’s you, daddy.” she points at the blue on the wall as you carry her back to her room.

his heart screams though he’s no longer crying and he hopes this lifetime will be enough to love.

satoru hears your footsteps trickling further down the hall when your voice resounds again, “come on daddy, we need help picking out today’s pijamas!”

“pease, papa hurry!”

his heart screams though he’s no longer crying as he listens to the water flow down the drain, capturing her first piece of art on his phone, he has very little to say.

but if he had to say it and if his baby asked him to, satoru would confess: “i’m so happy. i’m so happy to love you.”

hello friends! this is a repost from my previous blog, mysugu. in the case you recognize this piece, that is (hopefully) why! thank you for reading this bit, (a second time?) he is so loved.

[luimagines]

Link, shut up and kiss me.

Another Commission!

They asked for Time, Twilight, and Warrior with the phrase above.

Masterlist

Enjoy!

Content under the cut!

Time

It was nearing sunset when you were called to follow your husband on some stroll through the forest. The dwindling sunlight draped itself over the trees and sparkled downward to illuminate the bits of dust and leaf particles that would otherwise have been naked to the human eye. The sunset had turned the earth pink. It would have been lovely to see, had Link not steadily led you deeper and deeper into the forest. The shadows progressively got darker and darker. The animals got quieter and somehow more foreign to your senses.

A consistent stream of anxiety began to creep into your body. You didn’t want to look like a scaredy cat but you couldn’t ignore how you were scanning your surroundings more and more frequently.

Link for his part, didn’t look bothered at all. 

“Is there any reason we’re doing this?” You looked around the crooked trees and subconsciously took a step closer to Link. Nowadays he was going by the name Time, if only to avoid confusion with the other eight Links that have been his traveling companions in the past months.

You’re not entirely sure how they found each other. Link hadn’t told you the exact details but then again, you trusted his judgment. You knew that he went through a lot of trouble to keep you, and by extension, all of Hyrule safe. There was a lot of darkness that he unfortunately had been privy to. He had used himself as the filter of a lot of wicked visions and realities that he had guarded you from. 

It had taken its toll on him.

There were countless nights when you could hear him grunting and whimpering in his sleep. The demons refused to leave him alone even then. He’d woken up screaming more than once and each time you had taken it upon yourself to calm him down and soothe him back to sleep. It hurt, knowing that despite all his efforts and strength, Link wasn’t strong enough to defeat the monsters in his own head. To add salt to the wound, you knew there was nothing you could do about it except hum a lullaby and hold him just a little bit tighter.

Still, Link did his best to keep the evil away from you.

There was a moment of silence where Link held his hand up and you paused behind him. He waited, searching for some hidden clue before reaching for your hand. “We’re doing this just to take a moment to breathe,” He gives you a cheeky wink. “Is it so wrong to merely want a moment with my darling, away from prying eyes?”

“That’s not what I was asking and you know it.” You give him a playfully flat look. “We didn’t have to travel this far to get away from the boys. I’m sure if we asked nicely they would have found a way to entertain themselves without us.”

Link rolled his eyes, squeezing your hand in his. “I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Alright, fine, but you still haven’t told me whatever it is you have planned.”

“It’s called a surprise, my love.”

You tried your hardest not to pout. It wasn’t often Link got this playful. While he wasn’t usually grumpy on a good day, (despite what the other Links may have tried to convince you of), he didn’t usually like to keep you in the dark if it involved get-away plans either. On one hand, part of you was glad that he seemed less stressed enough to play with you this way. It was cute and made him look ten years younger. On the other hand, you were annoyed and feeling nosey as hell. You wanted to know! Why is he keeping these sorts of secrets from you? Now? Of all times!

Link, for all his perception, obviously notices that you’re being a tad petulant. He laughs as quietly as he can under his breath before tugging you along again. “This way. We’re almost there.”

You bit your tongue, otherwise you would have stuck it out at him. You can feel Link’s smirk on his face, and frankly, you don’t care for it.

Within seconds, Link moves a branch out of the way, revealing a babbling brook with a picnic blanket on the ground. There’s a picnic basket filled to the brim with goodies and treats alike and a very expensive bottle of wine. You didn’t even drink! Where did he find the time to do all of this?

Your heart swelled, wiping off the minor irritation from his earlier teasing. “...Oh Link… How did you-? Where did-? Why-?”

“I’ve missed you.” He says softly, gently tugging you closer. “Getting your letters isn’t the same as actually talking to your face. I’ve missed your laugh and your smile. I’ve missed holding you in my arms. I’ve missed waking up next to your face every morning. I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten about you while I’m out traveling to protect our home-”

“Link, shut up and kiss me.” You blurt, cutting him off at once.

Smirking, Link pulls you flush against his chest, cupping your jaw with his free hand. Leaning down, he tilts your head just enough to close the distance easier. A breath passes and the air leaves your lungs. Link presses his lips to yours with retrained hunger. There’s a depth that warns you of the impending desperation behind his touch. His touch is firm but not painful. You reciprocate in kind, clutching onto the front of his shirt as your knees begin to buckle from underneath you.

Link pulls away first, letting go of your hand to wrap it around the small of your back. There’s a delight clean in his eyes. His eyes have gone stormy and borderline sultry. “Not to cut it short, my love, but if I don’t restrain myself, I fear we won’t be leaving this little slice of paradise any time soon.”

Wordlessly, you nod. How lovely. 

Twilight 

“Link?” You quietly call out to The Rancher.

The group decided to take a break for a day or two purely to regroup and regenerate their forces before continuing on the next leg of their journey. It would have been fine and dandy to get more supplies and rest your feet if Twilight hadn’t been acting… strange.

He’d been distant and distracted.

It was worrying, to say the least. Granted, it wasn’t as if he was a man of many words. Twilight, you’ve noticed, was a bigger man of action than you’ve ever had the privilege to meet in your life. On top of that, silence was commonplace among anyone in the group named Link, but lately, it was heavier when you stood next to him. Pensive. Lost in thought.

You didn’t want to pry. It wasn’t like it was any of your business.

But you were nosey as hell.

I mean- you care about him! Of course! Naturally, that was the bigger- the biggest reason you wanted to ask him what was up. If something was bothering him you wanted to know and you wanted to help him.

Sure.

After everyone had checked into the inn and had settled for the night, you found that you couldn’t get your brain to shut up. Twilight had been the last to get one to go to bed and you weren’t entirely sure that he followed through with his promise to head to bed anytime soon.

You walked into the lobby of the inn and found The Rancher resting on one of the provided chairs. Lo and behold, he was still very much awake and staring off into the fireplace that the inn had kept lit just for him.

You don’t think he heard you call for him.

“Twilight.” You try again, moving to stand by his side. Bending your knees, you squat next to his chair so you’d be able to look up and meet his gaze better. “Hey. I think it’s past your bedtime, Rancher. What are you doing still up?”

He took a breath and looked over to you. His eyes widened and he leaned back as if noticing your presence for the first time. He said your name under his breath and it sent goosebumps down your spine. He didn’t have to say it like a prayer.

You gulped and nodded. Yes. That was your name. You asked him a question.

He responded in kind and shook his head free of the thoughts in his head. Twilight opened his mouth to question your intentions but you beat him to the punch.

“What’s going on, Link? Don’t lie to me.”

His eyes widened once more and he cleared his throat. “Do you… Do you ever think that maybe-... Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“No, tell me.” You stressed, putting your hand on his knee. “You’ve been all out of sorts lately. It’s had me worried.”

“Really?” Twilight turned back to you. “Was I that obvious?”

“You lack subtlety Link.”

“...Oh…”

You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. If anything, it looks at war with himself. He opens his mouth multiple times, looking back and forth between you and his lap. He’s silent. Multiple minutes passed as he tried to get his thoughts in order. You were willing to wait for him to make headway with his thoughts. There was no use pushing him before he was ready.

“I think I’m in love with you,” He blurts.

You fall backward onto your butt.

Twilight coughed, blushing a bright red that traveled all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“L-Look, I’m not going to pressure you or anything.” He stumbled into an unwarranted explanation. “I’ve been trying to think this through and I’m aware this isn’t exactly the most opportune moment to say this or admit this and we still have a job to do so this is arguably the last place for a relationship. But I don’t even know if you want a relationship or if you even think about me that way-”

Your jaw slowly dropped as he continued to verbally barf into the space. You couldn’t get a word out otherwise. He just kept talking.

“And then there’s Midna and everything that she was to me.” Twilight desperately runs his hands through his hair. “I almost feel like I’m betraying her and everything I stood for at the time but this is different. It feels different. You’re different. It’s stronger. All-encompassing. From the top of my head to my toes, this is a drowning sensation of ever-loving need and I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know if I want to stop it.”

“Link-”

“And you’re so beautiful.” He shakes his head, ruffling his hair roughly. “And I’m a shotgun nobody from the deep ends of the country-”

“Link-”

“How do I even begin to start with how amazing you are? With how talented and great and absolutely breathtaking-”

“Link, shut up and kiss me.” You grab the front of his shirt and tug him closer to you. 

Twilight completely freezes on the spot, staring in your eyes like a fish out of water.

A beat passes.

Then a second.

And then he surges forward, scooping you up from the ground and placing you in his lap with very little issue. One hand stayed by your hip while the other caressed your jaw. His touch was soft, tentative, like handling fine china.

You, however, had no such reservations.

You weren’t about to let this hunk of a man slip through your grapes and allow his self-doubt to dictate what happened next. You wanted to eliminate any sort of inquiry about where you stood from his mind. You wanted him. You have been wanting him.

You undoubtedly returned his kiss with more passion than he had anticipated. After a second of scrambling to match your energy, Twilight finally got with the program.

You had absolutely zero regrets.

Warrior

“Why would you do this?” You hissed, vibrating from the sheer force of will you exerted over your body to keep from throttling the man in front of you. “Didn’t you say that we had a plan? Weren’t you yelling at me earlier about sticking to the plan we came up with?”

“Things got… complicated…” Warrior sighed, rubbing his temple. He had taken a gnarly hit to the head and it wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he had a concussion. The sight made your heart ache, but it was also fully brought upon him by himself. “...The plan needed… last-minute reconfigurations.”

You growled and ruffled your hair violently. This was the farthest thing from ideal. You were both in the middle of nowhere and there was no sign of any villages or fairy fountains.

You had both set off to scout ahead before anyone arrived to survey the land. Your efforts were more or less fruitless. It was a mountain range with countless dips and swells that held more hidden threats than you were able to avoid.

The plan had been to stay out of as much as possible and to not engage in any fights or battles if you could help it. That being said, that didn’t account for any hidden threats or monsters that were laid in an ambush. You would have thought that would have been what had caused Warrior’s injury. Nope! It was far more simple, and frankly, far more stupid than that.

Frustrations aside, the land was beautiful. It struck you as odd that this mountain range would cease to exist by the time your Hyrule came into fruition. There were hundreds of maple trees scattered about that gave the earth an absolute darling shade of red as the sun traveled across the sky. A gentle, if bitterly cold breeze shook the leaves from their branches, sending them to flutter through the air in their dance to the ground.

You throw your pack onto the dirt and begin to rifle through it. You needed to find something, anything! You didn’t want to deal with Warrior while he dealt with his concussion. You weren’t entirely sure if it was bleeding, but given that his golden blond hair hadn’t been stained yet, you were willing to bet a pretty rupee that it wasn’t as bad as you had initially feared.

You cursed your luck. You had no potions, no painkillers, and no bandages at all. You could have hit yourself. Weren’t you warned by the Vet to pack extra of everything on the off chance something gets lost or stolen? Granted, neither of those things was stolen or lost, they were simply used up and not restocked. You had only yourself to blame.

“I blame you,” You tell Warrior, giving him a sideways glare. “Tell me why you thought it was a good idea to do a double backflip off a rock, then proceed to slip on the landing and hit your head on the very same rock.”

Warrior groaned loudly and rubbed the goose egg that was thankfully hidden under his hair. “Well, for starters, it’s not like I intended to slip. I had the full intention of landing that flip.”

“Ok… So, tell me again why you didn’t.”

“...”

“...”

“I may be in need of new boots.”

“Oh shut up! That wasn’t the problem I was trying to highlight! You shouldn’t have done it to begin with! We knew it had been raining earlier.” You shout, watching unapologetically as Warrior winces at the sound. You huff and helplessly turn in circles, trying to spot something in the distance where you could go. But you don’t see anything despite turning around multiple times. It feels demoralizing. 

Sighing, you walk over to Warrior and wrap your arms around his middle for safekeeping. You’re not entirely sure how steady he is on his feet and you don’t need to risk him slipping and hitting his head again. 

He tries to push you off but you’re not having it. After getting swiped at no less than three times, you poke his stomach eliciting a soft ‘oof’ from him as a result. “Stop squirming. I can’t trust you to not get hurt again and we’re not in the position to take any more chances.”

Warrior puffs up, offended and indignant. “I’m the captain and leader of the entire royal battalion-” 

“And you nearly tried to crack your skull open with no one around to impress,” You hiss and jostle him to prove a point. “Tell me you didn’t think that I would find that particularly impressive.”

Warrior stays silent.

“Oh for Nayru’s sake,” You grumble, shaking your head exasperatedly. You adored Link, truly you did, but your tolerance of shenanigans could only contain so much before you’ve reached your limit. Since then, Warrior decided, (or rather he gathered that he wasn’t going to win the upcoming argument any time soon), that it was better to not engage in a verbal sparring match about his stupid decisions and that his safety would depend on keeping his mouth shut for the time being.

Walking beside him, side to side, was actually quite nice, you admitted to yourself. He was warm, lean but not without the feeling of power he carried beneath his skin. You never had a reason to be this close to The Captain so this was a pleasant surprise. Warrior leaned against you, favoring a leg no doubt as you walked. You wanted to stop and yell at him again for hiding it, but there wasn’t much that would change if you decided to follow through with that thought.

There was still no hope of rescue or hiding civilization to get him treated. Feeling antagonized, you managed to maneuver the both of you into a cave and set him down. Without another word, you got to work on making a fire to warm you both against the chill of the stone. Warrior hissed softly as he rested his body and he was beginning to look a little worse for wear.

‘The pain must be finally settling into his body,’ you think to yourself as you watch him from the corner of your eyes. With a sigh, you try once again, in vain, to look through your pack for anything that could help him.

Nothing.

“...Oh wow…” Warrior says breathlessly. “You look really pretty like that.”

You freeze.

“...”

“...”

“...Excuse me?” You say gently and slowly crawl to his side. As subtly as you could, you look over the side of his head.

“Next to the firelight,” Warrior says, adjusting his position against the stone wall of the cave. “It made your hair glow and your eyes sparkled. There were flecks of gold that shimmered and shined. It was pretty. You looked pretty.”

“H-hush,” You ran a hand through his hair to check the damage. The swelling had begun to settle at long last. “It’s the concussion talking. You don’t mean it.”

“My filter is busted but my thoughts are valid,” He growls under his breath. “I’m not sure how I’m going to think of this when I gather my wits about me this time tomorrow. But I’m certain enough now to not regret my words.”

You flush against your will. You couldn’t stop it. You turn your face away from the fire to hide in the shadows. You pray it would be enough for him to not notice the way his words had affected you.

“The pink looks cute on you too.”

Too late.

“OH-! Shut up.” You huff and spin back to him. “You’re cheating. That’s not fair.”

“Cheating for being honest?” Warrior gets a boyish smirk on his face. It’s lethal damage. “For giving you a compliment?”

“Shut.”

“Can you at least look at me?”

“Nope.”

“Please?” He says sweetly.

“Shut up.” You say weakly, turning to face him anyway. “Shut up and kiss me before I do something stupid.”

Warrior laughs and tugs you closer by your sleeve. “You have to come closer. I can’t move much like this.”

With a small whine, you scoot even closer, letting him move you the way he wants before he gently presses his lips to yours. Something tells you that perhaps you shouldn’t take advantage of the situation like this. He still took a hit to the head. That hasn’t changed in the past hour.

Still, Warrior tugs you impossibly closer, snaking his hand from your arm and into your hair. The slight tug catapults the thoughts from your mind as you sink deeper into his arms. Your hands come up to cradle his face and pull him closer as well. Right as you feel the need to pick up speed, he pulls back, a pure, satisfied smile full of male pride dancing on his lips.

The look would have had you buckling at the knees if Warrior hadn’t decided it was a good moment to break the silence. 

“Enjoy yourself?”

You nearly smack him in the head again.