#(also hey easy way to figure out how old my ocs are is to just check if they have a last name)

[delta-pavonis]

Harlot??

Heeehehe. This is another OC of mine. A dream this time. Named Harlot.

This came from a Tumblr conversation (that has since been deleted by the OP, sadly) where we chatted back and forth about how Hob's dreams would be different because of his age. And what if, because his mind was a strange constant for some time in the Dreaming, he became a training ground of sorts for new dreams and nightmares. And then, upon Dream's return and his subsequent meeting with Hob, what if Hob's mind was closed from all but the King himself, who wished to tend to his lover's dreams? What would the poor dreams and nightmares do, once their Lord realized that they have been using Hob's dreaming mind as a training ground for centuries? Well, of course, they would unionize. XD I never got to that part and I don't think I will ever come back to this, but I really like what I have of Harlot and the other bits of the Dreaming I came up with. Very surrealist, kinda fun. And hey look! No smut!

(And yes, Harlot uses it/its pronouns for itself.)

It figures out that things have changed when it is barred from entering Robert Gadling's dreams. There is no mistaking that familiar and aching tug, just to the left of its breastbone, exactly where a heart would be if it were anything approaching human. No other dreamer pulls at its heartspace just so. That is definitely him. But it cannot find the knob, not even the seam of where it might pry the door open, to enter his dreams. Odd.

It is summoned by humans in so many ways. Most often by lips, or cunt, or phallus. But also hands, breasts, ass, feet, neck. The curl of its hair. The suppleness of its thigh. The rich texture of chest hair. The arch of an aquiline nose. Oh, and bless Old Roy, by the dimples that bracket its bony kneecaps. So many different places where its fantasies begin.

Rarely do such fantasies start at the heart, at least so it is for its specific domain. There are myriad other dreams who trade in love and warmth and family and sweetness of touch. Nightmares, too. It knows many of them well. But it is ever so rare that its particular flavor of wantonness starts in the hearth of the heart.

Harlot is its name. It is a fantasy of reckless abandonment of sexual mores, a dream of lust-drunk nights tearing down the scaffolding of society with wild moans, of passion that ignores all taboos until it is all-consuming, until it burns your eyes, your teeth, your fingerprints, your DNA... burns your very identity away and leaves you only named Theirs.

Lottie, to its friends.

Hob would call it Lottie, if he knew it so.

But Hob only knows it by another name.

Stranger.

The Stranger.

Or, fleetingly, while turned inside-out in pleasure, he names it My Stranger.

He has lived longer than so many of his kin, this Hob Gadling, that a fair majority of the Dreaming's citizens have met his dreaming mind, been called upon in one way or another as he sleeps. It is an honored tradition for many, a welcome challenge, never knowing which other dreams and nightmares you will be asked to contend with. There was that one time, when Hob caused Atomat, the nightmare flash of nuclear war, to meet with ancient Ionia, the now-dust-laden dream of chivalric honor, where they… ah, but that is a different story.

Lottie has not counted, but it might be the most frequent visitor to Hob’s dreams. At least Lottie thinks it is the most frequent dream Hob calls to. Yersinia, the nightmare plague, also has held grip on his mind for centuries, never gone for long, as has Demer, the drowning terror. But in terms of dreams…

The first time Lottie was summoned to don a shell of its Maker was the first time it had any inkling what humans actually might mean by embarrassment. But that was centuries ago. Lottie still finds it tiring work - certainly no other human has been so reluctant to use a dream or nightmare to work past their issues in the Waking World - yet it has also become a comfort. Easy and familiar. A constant.

And he is such a reliable dreamer that it is his dreamscape that they often take the wee dreamlings and nightmarelets to. Little does Hob know how many common dreams and nightmares of his culture have whet their teeth on his sleeping mind. Lottie likes to think he would be happy to have helped so many.

Being barred access to him is… concerning. 

How could it be that he has come to be sealed off so well? Really, the only power that could bar a dream so wholly from a dreamer that calls it could be…

Oh.

Lottie runs.

Over hill and dale, through the cobblestone streets of a village, out the other end, sharp left, and immediately onto the top of a skyscraper. It skids to a halt and hollers at the other dream sitting there, his tripod of legs dangling over the edge as it watches the pigeons play. “Chips! Fuck me sideways CHIPS!!” 

The other dream looks up, startled, his long mule’s ears swiveling forward like satellite dishes finding a signal. “Lottie? I thought you were…”

“Lord Morpheus! The King! The King himself is in Hob’s dreams!” 

Chips blinks his too-wide bottle green eyes. “That means…”

“Yes.” This is the first time Lottie has been breathless outside its function. What a terribly distressing sensation. This is why it was not made to be a nightmare.

“Ah,” the other dream looks back out to the horizon. “How mad do you reckon He is going to be?”

“If we are lucky?” It follows Chips’ gaze to where the three round gray birds laugh as they kick the little ball back and forth between them. The ball skids along a rogue breeze and the trio all groan as it tumbles away on an updraft. “If we are lucky… He will only be fucking furious.”

Chips bites his lip. "I didn't think Lord Morpheus would ever come for him, you know? Attend to him directly. Why now?"

Lottie has an inkling. Well, more than an inkling. It has been around a lot longer than Chipchickory, well before Hob Gadling. Thousands of years before. Tens of thousands. It knows how dramatically their King has changed in such a short time, even if it has only seen most of it through Hob’s eyes. It knows exactly the shape and texture that Hob's dreams of the King take. If he doesn't already know, Lord Morpheus will immediately be privy to the human's true feelings the moment he enters Hob's dreaming mind. One can't feel that hearttug and not know.

Hob loves the King of Dreams. 

And the King of Dreams loves Hob. He will come to know that of himself soon enough. Lottie is as sure of that as it is its function.

Oh. But… does this mean Lottie will never be with Hob again? Never once more get to be the fire that rides the waves of his rushing blood? That. That… feels wrong. Lottie realizes that it would miss visiting Hob, after all these years. Huh. Fascinating. But the personal shall not overcome the practical. There is work to do, now. Before the Shaper of Forms comes for them.

Lottie brushes invisible dust off its flanks as it turns back to Chips. “Gather the Mentors. If we are to no longer be able to have access to Hob Gadling’s mind we must plan accordingly. Our training regime will need to change. And we will need to support the young ones who will not be ready for the transition to a new dreamer yet.”

Yes. There is work to do.

________________________________

What Lottie doesn’t expect is to see Hob walking the Dreaming, hand trailing over the tops of the tall grasses of Fiddler’s Green, smiling softly to himself. He is alone. 

Lottie should leave this place. Let Hob be. He is here by the grace of the King himself and no other. Lord Morpheus could appear at any moment. And yet… 

It stayed frozen too long. Hob has noticed it standing just down the hill, where the grasses thin into the dirtbanks of the stream. He waves and starts jogging to Lottie, a bright smile on his sweet face. Lottie, for the first time, yearns. Not as its function, not as a part played in a dream, but as itself. 

“Hullo.” The dear crows feet at the corners of Hob’s eyes are a physical pain for it. “I’m sorry, but… you... even at a distance… you seem familiar. I am still learning the ways of the Dreaming. Is it possible I have met you before? In my dreams?”

You have met me uncountable times, Hob. But never as me. Lottie looks down at the plain sundress on its human-like body, flat chest beneath periwinkle cotton, skin glinting silver in the noonday light. When it looks back up Hob is earnestly expectant and it cannot bring up anything but honesty. “Yes. You know me, Robert Gadling. Well sighted, and well met.” It bows its head in deference. 

Their eyes meet and Hob’s widen, mouth dropping into a small oh. “You’re… I know you.” He steps forward and folds those strong arms around Lottie’s shoulders. “You were my Stranger, once upon a time? Were you not? I swear I can feel it.” His voice wraps around its neck and Lottie wants to sob.

Tentatively, it puts its hands on Hob’s back. “Yes.” Its voice is barely a whisper, tremulous and fragile. “Yes.” No more words come.

It can feel Hob smile into its neck, causing a shiver. “Thank you, dear one.” And Lottie does sob at that. He steps back and puts his warm hands to either side of its face, studying it for a moment. “You got me through some of the worst moments in my life.” Hob presses their foreheads together. “I don’t think money matters here, but whatever Dream pays you, he should double it.”

Lottie laughs. “That is really not how it works here, but I appreciate the sentiment.” They stand like that for a moment, pressed together, before it sighs. “Lord Morpheus is mercurial at best and I would not have him scold either of us for such proximity.” Lottie steps back but takes both of Hob’s hands in its own. “Hello, my name is Harlot, but my friends call me Lottie.”

“Hello Lottie.” Hob squeezes its hands. “You already know me as well as I know myself, so you better call me Hob.”

They both smile.

[aylacavebear]

The Traveler - Chapter 8 - Earth, 2013 pt 2

You're from a specific dimension, Solaris Eclipse. It was a dimension of magic. When your kind, the Eldrathiren, turned fifteen, your unique power would awaken within you. Most times, it was something small, levitation, teleportation, creation, elemental manipulation, and things like that. Once in a while, a fifteen-year-old would just disappear, and those were called Travelers. None of them had ever returned. Your parents had told you stories about them, and you hoped that wouldn't happen to you.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 6024

Pairing Eventually Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You & Sam Winchester x OC Reader/You

Warnings: Angst, fluff, some alcohol use. A/N: Don't think there's anything else in this one. It's fairly relaxed.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 8 - Earth, 2013 pt. 2

The Borhter’s POV

Dean dragged his hand over his face once he closed your door, then headed to the library where Sam was sitting, having another beer, “It’s not fair,” he grumbled. 

“She needs this time to recuperate, Dean. It's not fair to any of us. We don’t even know where Y/N from our time is right now. What dimension she ended up in,” Sam told him, then sighed.

Dean poured himself another glass of whiskey before he sat across from his brother, “This is gonna be a lot harder than I thought it would be. I have to keep reminding myself she’s only sixteen and doesn’t know how we all are together.”

Sam glanced toward the hallway where the rooms were, “She doesn’t look sixteen. That last world was hard on her.” He sipped his beer as the silence spread between them for a bit. “Let's just try to help her remember what laughter is.”

“Not gonna be as easy not being able to touch her,” Dean chuckled, smirking with the thoughts dancing through his mind.

“Hey, I’m trying not to think about that, and you’re not helping,” Sam tried to sound stern but couldn’t keep from chuckling.

“It’s also not gonna be easy sleeping,” Dean somewhat groaned.

“We’ll just have to think of it like when she has her alone nights,” Sam said, glancing over at his brother.

“I have a hard time sleeping those nights. Don’t tell her when she comes back, though. She’ll feel guilty and end up wanting to comfort me instead of taking the alone time she needs,” he told his brother seriously.

“I won’t tell her. I promise. I’m gonna go take care of her clean stuff. Don’t overdo it on the whiskey. You know she’ll be able to smell it on you in the morning,” Sam warned his brother before he headed to the laundry room.

Dean pulled out his wallet, then the picture of you he’d taken when you were seventeen and had come back for the first time, smiling as he got lost in the memory. He let his thumb gently glide across your cheek in the picture. You were in the middle of laughing at a joke he’d told you at Bobby’s. It was the day he realized he was in love with you.

“Dude, how long have you been staring at her picture?” Sam asked, setting your things down on the library table.

Dean quickly slipped the picture back into his wallet, leaning back in his chair, “Not that long. Just pulled it out.”

“Sure ya did,” Sam teased him, knowing he’d probably been staring at it the entire time he’d been gone.

“Bitch,” Dean retorted.

“Jerk,” Sam chuckled, “I’m heading to bed. Don’t beat yourself up. She’ll be back. She always comes back to us.”

“I know,” Dean mumbled, sipping his whiskey.

Sam headed to his room, knowing there was nothing he could do or say that could ease the pain his brother was going through. This wasn’t the first time they’d gone through the heartache of missing you due to your shifting. Since Sam had turned eighteen, the two of them had been trying to figure out a way to help you stay in one dimension. Up until this point, they hadn’t been able to find anything. Sam had been hoping the bunker would hold some secret spell buried somewhere in all the lore it held.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

With this place having no windows and you not knowing how to read a clock, you had no idea what time it was when you woke up. You stretched, then just laid there for a bit, enjoying the softness of the mattress and pillow. Due to the last world you had been in, you weren’t entirely sure how many hours of sleep you would get at a time, as there was no way to tell time in that place.

You pushed the blankets off, got out of bed, and headed toward the library. Neither of the brothers were there, so you headed to the kitchen. They weren’t there either. Then you checked the garage, but the car was still there, so they hadn’t left.

Where are they?

The only way you were going to be able to tell what time it was was if you went outside and you knew it. That, or attempt to find the brothers’ separate rooms and see if they were still sleeping. Sighing, you made your way up the stairs and then to the door that led outside. Opening the door, you couldn’t see any light, and glancing toward the sky, you could still see the stars twinkling in the darkness.

After closing the door, you headed back to your room, grabbing your bag and the small pile of clothes on your way. Although, you weren’t tired. How little sleep had you gotten used to having in the last world you’d been in? Your new goal for the day was learning to read a clock. You set your stuff on top of the small desk in the room, then headed back out to the library. There were so many books lining the shelves. You were sure they were filled with all sorts of fantastic information, but since you didn’t know how to read English, all you could do was admire them. You plucked one from where it was nestled on the shelf and opened it, smiling a little as your fingers danced lightly across the page filled with words. The scent of the old book almost circled around you, and you almost chuckled.

“Sam’s scent,” you mumbled, smiling a little.

You sat down at one of the library tables and slowly flipped through the book. It had some pictures but without the explanation, you didn’t know exactly what you were looking at.

“You’re up early,” Sam said, somewhat surprised as he stopped when he saw you in the library.

“I’ve been up for a while,” you replied as you looked over at him, “Will you teach me how to read a clock?”

He chuckled, “You really are adorable, Y/N. Yeah. I can teach you how to read a clock. Lemme get some coffee.” 

You felt a slight warmth in your cheeks when he called you adorable, and you weren’t entirely sure what to say in return. As he walked away, you closed the book and returned it to where you’d found it, then sat back down and attempted to wait patiently for Sam to return. 

Now on the fifth go around with numbers, several pieces of paper, Sam’s laptop open with a clock on it, you were slightly frustrated.

“Why does this seem so difficult?” you grumbled.

“What are you two up to?” Dean asked, finally awake and in the war room.

“Numbers are annoying,” you grumbled again, laying your head on your arms on the table.

“Sam, did you try with coins?” Dean asked.

“No. I was trying to teach her what the numbers were, not how to count,” Sam told him in a slightly smart-ass way.

“I got you, Sweetheart,” Dean told you, “Lemme grab some coffee real quick.”

When Dean returned, he had a cup of coffee and a box. He sat down on the other side of you, smiling.

“How are dominos going to help her learn numbers?” Sam asked, both confused but also amused.

“You’ll see,” Dean chuckled as he dumped the dominos out of the box.

You sat up a little, watching Dean. He was grouping the small rectangular objects with dots on them. Then he took some of the paper, drew numbers on them, and then put one of the objects under the number. 

“Okay, Sweetheart. Technically, these are called dominos, but right now, that doesn’t matter. I know you can count. This will help you make the correlation,” he chuckled.

Dean continued to explain his concept to you as you tilted your head in curiosity. He started at the first one. The domino had a single dot on it, and the paper had a number. Once you caught onto his concept, it was reasonably straightforward. The amount of dots equaled the number on the page. Sam just shook his head at how his brother had taught you numbers.

They did get a little complicated after ten, but with some practice, you picked it up quickly. Dean grabbed Sam’s laptop and explained how the numbers were divided by the hour and the minutes and had your wrapped attention. Once you were able to tell him the time consistently, you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

“Thank you, Dean,” you told him happily, “Now I’m hungry.”

He chuckled, hugging you back, “You’re welcome, Sweetheart.”

Once you disappeared into the kitchen, Ssam turned toward his brother, “I can’t believe you taught her numbers with dominos,” he chuckled, thoroughly amused.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he asked, rather proud of himself.

Before Sam could answer, you poked your head out of the hallway for the kitchen, “Umm, I kinda need some help with what's okay to eat.”

“I’ll help her with breakfast. You’ll try to make her eat salad or something,” Dean told Sam before he joined you in the kitchen.

You followed him to the fridge, curiously attempting to see what he was getting out, but when he backed up, he bumped into you.

“Tell you what. Have a seat on the island there, and you can watch, okay?” he told you, trying not to chuckle at how adorable he found your curiosity.

“Okay,” you sighed. 

You hopped up onto the island but occasionally had to move to see what he was doing. You were careful, though, to avoid bumping into what he had placed on the island. The familiar scent of bacon wafted through the air, causing you to purr. You weren’t quite sure what the other two things were, but they smelled delicious as well.

“Alright, have a seat at the table,” he told you, plating up what he had cooked.

“What is it?” you asked, moving to the table.

“I give you bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns with two pieces of toast,” he explained, setting the plate down in front of you.

Your eyes followed the plate and widened when you saw the deliciousness in front of you, “Looks yummy.”

“Dig in, Sweetheart,” he chuckled before he began cleaning up.

He could hear you purring from across the kitchen as he cleaned and you ate. He was also missing the you from this time but refused to let it show. Dean knew you couldn’t feel the connection and that you wouldn’t feel it fully until Sam hit eighteen. 

You happily ate, enjoying the new food, especially when you ate some of it all together. At least now, you could tell time here, and you planned on figuring out how long you normally slept for. Once you finished eating, you took the dishes over to the sink. You’d watched how Dean had washed the other things, so decided to attempt washing yours.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, slightly puzzled.

“Helping,” you mumbled, messing with the nobs on the sink.

He chuckled and walked over to you, “This one’s hot, that one is cold. You need hot water to wash dishes with so it gets all the food off,” he explained gently.

“I know how to wash dishes. It’s just a little different in your world than mine,” you told him, using the scents in the air to direct you to the soap and sponge.

Dean leaned against the counter and watched you, arms crossed. The hot water was hotter than you had expected, so you had to turn on some of the cold one so it didn’t burn your hands. You wondered why Sam had stayed in the library but didn’t ask. Your mind wandered for a moment.

Two mates…

“You okay?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. Sorry. I got lost in thought,” you replied, putting the now clean dishes into the drainer with the others.

“Whatcha thinkin' about?” he asked fairly curiously.

“Just stuff you don’t want to tell me about,” you answered plainly as you dried your hands on a towel nearby.

Dean sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad. It just sucks,” you replied, now looking up at him, “So, now what? You said I was here for two weeks.”

“I’m not sure, really,” he answered, looking like he was attempting to think of something.

You giggled at the face he was making, “Let’s go see if Sam has any suggestions.”

Dean rolled his eyes but followed you to the library, “Sam, got any suggestions for what the three of us could do while Y/N is here?” 

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, now thinking as you and Dean sat down in the library. 

You noticed how Sam had cleaned the things up from when Dean taught you about numbers and how to read time here. While Sam thought, your mind wandered again.

When does it happen? Am I in their world when they feel it? How do I get back to the right time? Where do I end up after this shift? Why do they have to smell so good? How would two mates even work? Do they get jealous of each other? 

Too many questions with no answers. You knew you couldn’t ask them. They already wouldn’t give you answers you wanted. As your thoughts traveled down a very intimate path, Sam finally spoke, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Well, we could teach you to read English so you can read some of the books. Then there are games we could play that you might like,” Sam shared, using his memories of her future self and the things they’d all done in the past.

“We could spar a little,” Dean chuckled, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“You sure you wanna do that?” you asked, not completely understanding what he was suggesting.

“You might learn something on how to defend yourself better. Plus, it’s all in a friendly way. We wouldn’t be doing it to hurt each other,” he explained.

After mulling over what they had both suggested, you opted for learning to read English, at least to start with. Dean grumbled a little, so you told him that when you needed a break, you’d want to try the sparing with him. Seeing him smile like a happy child made you giggle.

Sam moved so that he was sitting next to you with his laptop open. You watched as he pressed the keys, and things changed on the screen. Learning how to read wasn’t too tricky, as you had picked up speaking English quickly on your first visit to Earth. He started with simple words and worked up to harder, more complicated ones.

Four or so hours later, Dean was beyond bored, and you could tell. Sam had switched from the laptop to several different lore books from the bookshelves. You found reading fascinating, along with the information the books held. A plate being set on top of the pages you were reading caused you to look up seeing Dean.

“Figured you were hungry. It’s past lunch,” he told you, attempting a smile.

“Oh. Uh, thanks, and I’m sorry. I’m not used to paying attention to time,” you replied, feeling bad.

Dean sighed and sat next to you, “Don’t feel bad. I just wanted to spar with you today, but you looked so happy reading, I didn’t want to ask.”

You gave him a small, happy smile, “Then after I eat, we’ll spar,” you replied, then looked at Sam, “Are you coming too?”

“Sure,” Sam chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

The sandwich was delicious. You had really missed Earth food, and this one was new, with new items and flavors that made you purr as you ate. Dean had even brought you a soda. The bubbles it had, which Dean explained was carbonation, tickled your nose, making you giggle. The belch you released caused both brothers to laugh.

“Ready?” Dean asked, getting up from his seat.

“Definitly,” you replied with a mischievous smirk.

You followed Dean while Sam followed you to the gym. As Dean opened the door, your eyes widened with awe at everything inside the room. You had seen it when he’d given you the tour the day before, but this time, you were able to look at all the objects in the room. Everything was placed neatly around the room. You only vaguely knew what these items were, as you’d seen most of them on TV on your first visit to Earth.

Dumbbells and barbells of varying sizes were neatly organized on racks along the walls. Vintage boxing equipment adorned one corner of the room, its weathered leather and polished wood exuding a sense of timeless nostalgia. Heavy punching bags hung lifeless from the ceiling, their surfaces worn smooth from countless rounds of training and sparring.

In the center of the room, several thick mats lay on the floor, ready for sparring between the brothers and now you. Dean slipped off his shoes, as did Sam before they walked onto the mat. So, taking that as a queue, you did the same. 

You felt giddy as a sense of anticipation coursed through your body, watching the brothers for a moment. They had no idea what you’d learned in the last two places you’d been, or at least, you hoped they didn’t know. It would at least give you an advantage, even if this was just for fun. 

“You ready for this, kitty cat?” Dean teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your ears twitched in amusement at the nickname, your tail swishing behind you in anticipation, “Bring it on, Winchester,” you retorted, voice laced with determination and playfulness.

At least it would be one-on-one, as you weren’t sure you could manage both of them at the same time. You and Dean nodded in agreement before you both lunged forward simultaneously. Your movements were a blur of speed and agility. However, your cat-like abilities gave you the upper hand.

Dodging Dean’s hits and attempted grapples was simpler than you had expected, and you wondered if he was going easy on you. So, after dodging yet another punch, your muscles coiled like a spring as you countered with a swift kick to his side. Hoping back a couple of steps, you smirked, looking at him.

He grunted as Sam chuckled. Dean stumbled back a bit, but his grin widened into a smirk, “Not bad,” he admitted, his eyes alight with excitement, “But let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Sure you aren’t going easy on me, Winchester,” you chuckled, distracting him with your words.

Wasting no time, you launched another attack, your movements fluid and precise as you danced around Dean’s defenses with practiced ease. Your cat-like agility allowed you to move with lightning-fast reflexes, darting in and out of his reach with grace and finesse. You found it fairly fun to just tap his body instead of actually hitting him. Just showing him you had the ability was far more amusing.

The few hits Dean did get in were light in comparison to things you’d fought before. Although, you were still fairly certain he was going easy on you. He did manage to block several of your jabs, but it taught you how he moved, making further hits far easier.

“Pretty sure she’s up on hits, Dean,” Sam chuckled from the sideline.

Dean refused to take his eyes off you, watching how you moved, “Shut up, Sam.”

In one last swift movement, you knocked his feet out from under him, chuckling as he landed flat on his back, “That the best you’ve got, Winchester?” 

All he did was smirk as he grabbed your leg, pulling you to the ground with him, where he attempted to pin you, “Just a friendly sparing match, Sweetheart.”

You smirked, not only getting out of his hold but turning things around so that you were now pinning him, “Still think you’re going easy on me.”

“All right. That’s enough for one day,” Sam chuckled.

“What? Worried I’ll pin you too?” you asked Sam, not taking your eyes off Dean.

“Alright, Sweetheart, let me up,” Dean chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, letting go of him and moving so he could stand. You had no idea that he knew your weaknesses, although he wasn’t going to use any of them. You were far too young for him to use those particular tactics this time.

“No. Just figured we could all relax with a movie before dinner,” Sam chuckled again as he slipped on his shoes.

“I like movies,” you replied happily, picking up your shoes so you could just toss them into your room. Walking around in socks was far more fun as you could slide across the smooth floor of the bunker.

Halfway through the movie, you looked over at Dean, who was to your right in the chair again, debating the question you’d been thinking about since you’d gotten there. “Do you know where I’m going to end up after here?”

Dean paused the movie and looked over at you, as had Sam, “All I can tell you is that it won’t be as bad as the last place. You still have to be careful, though,” he answered, hating he couldn’t tell you more.

You sighed and looked back at the TV screen, so he pushed play as the brothers shared a silent conversation through their expressions.

Dean again carried you to your bed that night, as you hadn’t wanted to go to sleep after one movie, and left you with Sam to watch another while he had made dinner. The three of you even ate while watching the movie.

That first week passed quickly, too quickly for you. There was laughter, teasing with light banter and jokes, and there were too many times when you’d get quiet or they would. It was those awkward moments you wanted answers for. 

You also realized you had horrible sleeping habits. Some nights, when you’d go to sleep, you’d sleep for six hours; other times, it was only a couple, and you’d end up needing to nap during the day. It took almost that whole first week to fix that, so you were sleeping all night. On the nights you were awake, you’d spend your time in the library, reading the lore books.

During those times when you’d read, your mind drifted to your interactions with the brothers. The way they would look at you when they thought you weren’t paying attention. Their scent was also different from the last time you’d seen them. They always acted as though they wanted to be closer to you but were keeping their distance on purpose.

That second week, Dean introduced you to his music. Due to your hearing, he couldn’t turn it up as loud as he usually would have. He did watch you, though, as you listened to the words and the beat, adoration in his eyes and a soft smile. Sam chuckled, watching the two of you. Some of his music you really enjoyed. The ones with an upbeat sound made you want to move your body along with it. The slow ones weren’t your favorites, but you listened to them because you were curious as to what they were about and why Dean liked them.

When you asked Sam about the kind of music he liked, Dean just rolled his eyes. Then, he went to make some food while Sam shared some of his favorites with you. You noticed Sam had more love songs mixed in with lighter rock music, some country, and more recent things. Some of the songs were even sweet, making you smile a little.

“There’s nothing like that where I’m from,” you told the brothers as the three of you ate some lunch Dean had prepared.

“There’s probably nothing like it in any dimension that isn’t similar to Earth,” Dean chuckled.

“Is there any more pie?” you asked curiously, but also wanting to change the subject. You could tell that the brothers didn’t completely agree on music.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. You had the last slice a few days ago,” Dean answered, feeling a bit bad that they were out.

“I can go make a run, pick some up,” Sam offered, knowing his brother needed this time with you more than he did. He also had far more patience than Dean did.

“Really?” you replied, your ears perking up at Sam’s words.

Sam chuckled, “Yeah, really.”

You jumped up from your seat, quickly going over to Sam and hugging him tightly, overjoyed. “Thank you.”

He gently put his arm around you, holding you close rather than hugging you. “You’re welcome.” There was also a softness in his tone and his touch, which you didn’t miss. It made all those questions circle through your mind again. You watched Sam head to the garage before you sighed and sat back down, confused and mildly frustrated.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked you from across the table.

“Just questions you won’t answer,” you grumbled.

“Sweetheart,” Dean sighed sadly.

“I know. You can’t tell me stuff. It just sucks, that’s all,” you replied quietly, fidgeting with your fingers.

“Come on. Let’s play a game,” he offered, trying to brighten your mood and change the subject.

You tilted your head at his suggestion, puzzled but also curious as your ears perked up. He went over to a shelf on the far side of the library and grabbed a rectangular box before sitting back across from you, smiling like a little kid. You found him looking fairly adorable at that moment.

“This is a game called Sorry. Since you can read now, it should be easy enough to follow along,” he explained.

Dean explained the rules and that you had to pick a color for the pieces that would be yours. So, you chose blue, and he chose red. The two of you played the game, and you got the hang of it quickly, realizing you did have a bit of a competitive side, which the game brought out. You were on the second game, halfway through it, when Sam returned with the pie.

Before you could tackle him with another hug and grab the bag containing the item you wanted, he held it above his head, causing you to pout.

“I’ll put a slice on a plate for you. You can’t have the whole thing in one sitting,” he told you, attempting to keep from chuckling as you tried to reach the bag he held over his head. Perhaps if you weren’t 5’2”, you might have been able to reach it better.

“Come on, Sam. Let her have the pie. One time won’t hurt her,” Dean chuckled, trying to persuade his brother.

“You’re as bad as she is,” Sam chuckled, finding you rather amusing as you still were attempting to reach the bag.

“Pwease,” you begged, pouting slightly, trying to give him those kitten eyes.

It took everything in Dean not to lose it laughing as Sam sighed, giving in and handing you the bag that contained the pie. You were acting like an adorable kid, and he couldn’t tell you no when you looked at him like that; neither of them could. You may not have known that at the time, but you’d learn later on.

“Lemme get you a fork,” Sam chuckled.

You were grinning from ear to ear as you sat back down, pulling the pie out of the bag and setting it on the table in front of you. The aroma filled our senses when you opened the package, closing your eyes to commit it to memory. You were so lost in enjoying the apple pie in front of you that you’d completely forgotten about the game you and Dean had been playing.

“So, you want to take your turn or just eat your pie?” Dean asked through a chuckle, making you giggle.

“We can keep playing,” you answered, then took another bite of pie before taking your turn.

Throughout the rest of the day, the three of you played different board games. Though, Dean suggested you cook with him when dinner time rolled around. The way the stove worked fascinated you. He didn’t have to build a fire or get the coals to the amount needed for whatever needed cooking. This thing, you just turned a nob, and the fire appeared under the burner. Then, you could adjust it to the strength you needed the flame. Yeah, you’d watched him cook before, but this was the closest you’d been to the stove so far when he started.

“I’m gonna teach you how to make those burgers you like so much,” he explained.

Smiling like a little kid again, you opened the fridge and pulled out the things you’d seen him grab before when he cooked these things. Like bacon and ground meat. Then, there were the toppings that he cut up, along with cheese.

“Somebody’s eager,” he laughed, watching you.

“I love these things. No other place has had anything like this,” you admitted, still smiling as you placed the items on the island for him.

Dean explained every step as he did it, starting with putting the ground meat in a medium-sized bowl and then adding the spices before mixing them into the meat. You helped him form the patties, watching carefully how he did it so you could mimic the outcome.

After washing your hands, Dean explained the cooking process, starting the burgers in one pan and the bacon in another. He even came up behind you, holding your hands gently. He showed you how to hold onto the handle of the pan while flipping the burgers with the spatula in your other hand.

It felt nice to be close to him, comforting in a way. He didn’t stay there long, though, before he leaned against the island and sipped his beer, just watching you cook.

He began slicing up the toppings, and you wanted to help with that, too. So, he explained how thick things needed to be, and you grabbed the onion, following his directions. The onion made your eyes and nose water, which was somewhat annoying but made Dean chuckle. Sam had even come to watch the two of you from the kitchen doorway, smiling softly at the scene of the two of you.

“Smells amazing,” Sam said with a smile as he finally joined the two of you once it was done cooking.

“She’s a quick learner,” Dean smirked, watching you plate up a burger for yourself.

“It helps when I have a good teacher,” you smiled, looking at the two of them, plate in hand. “Are we watching another movie or eating at the kitchen table tonight?”

“We can do another movie. How about an action one this time?” Dean asked.

“I think that’d be okay,” you replied, then headed toward the room with the huge TV.

And that was how most of the second week went. Dean taught you how to cook, the three of you played board games and watched movies, and the two of them taught you a few new things, one of which was how to use a gun and how it worked. Since you knew how to read at this point and had read several of the lore books, they also taught you what killed what in their world. 

You woke one morning, near the end of the second week, feeling a pull toward something. It wasn’t the scent you’d been following. No, this was a different sort of feeling. You dressed, then made sure your bag was packed with all your belongings, including the new things the brothers had given you. 

I don’t want to leave, but I know I can’t stay.

It was early, just after seven, when you set your belongings on one of the library tables. The oddest thing about this particular visit to Earth was that you hadn’t gotten any abilities like you had in the other worlds. 

Perhaps it’s because this is the future here and not the present time?

Your ears drooped as that familiar scent drifted along the air.

Almost time…

Now, all you had to do was wait until the brothers woke up and came into the library. You knew that if you walked out of that room, you’d end up in another dimension. That was how it always happened. The scent would come, and you’d walk through some sort of space between two objects or a doorway, and then you’d be in another dimension. You closed your eyes and really took in the scent this time: the scent of the pages of an old book, pine, apple pie, oil, coffee, mint, and that one shampoo in the shower you thought smelled almost like pine but slightly different. It was the brothers’ scents, all mixed together, but it wasn’t like what they smelled like now. It was from a time that you wanted to get back to, as this was the future and not where you were meant to be.

“You okay?” Sam asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You gave him a small, sad smile, “It’s time, Sam. I have to go.”

Without hesitation, he went to you and pulled you into his arms, holding you close. It was far more than just a hug, “We will see each other again. You always find your way home, Y/N.”

“Thanks. I didn’t want to leave, without saying goodbye and… thank you, for everything,” you replied quietly, wrapping your arms around him.

“I’m gonna go get Dean. He’ll want to see you too, before you go,” he told you quietly, although he didn’t want to let go of you, not yet.

“I’m really gonna miss you guys,” you said, now fighting back tears of sadness at leaving them yet again.

Sam gently squeezed you one more time and kissed the top of your head before he headed to wake up his brother. The two returned shortly afterward. You hadn’t gotten ready, not quite yet. It would have been challenging to hug Dean with your stuff on you.

“Has it really been two weeks already?” Dean asked, now wide awake.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

He then wrapped you up in a hug, but it was more like an intimate embrace. So, you put your arms around his waist and held him just as close. The goodbyes last time were bittersweet as well. This time, though, it felt harder.

“You’ll be okay. You always find your way home, Sweetheart,” and there was a softness in his words that made you both feel comforted but also like you wanted to cry.

“I’m looking forward to when I can finally stop dimension-hopping,” you mumbled, leaning your head on his chest.

“We’ll never stop looking for a way to help you with that,” Sam said, and you realized he was now standing next to his brother.

The two of them hugged you, sandwiching you between them. The feeling of safety, comfort, peace, and then something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on made you want to stay. You knew better, though. Fighting against following the scent only ended up hurting you in the long run.

When the scent came again, you pulled away from the two of them, tossing your bag over your shoulder and grabbing your spear before you looked back up at them.

“I’m gonna miss you two,” you told them, trying not to look as sad as you felt.

They both gave you a comforting smile, “We’re gonna miss you too. Hell, we miss you now, but we’ll see each other again,” Dean tried to reassure you.

With a deep breath, you walked toward the opening between the library and the war room, the scent drifting along the air, beckoning you to follow. You looked at the brothers one last time, trying to commit their appearance to memory before turning toward the opening, then stepped down the two steps toward the war room when everything changed.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 9 - Aqualumina

Link to the series Masterlist.

A/N: If you'd like to get in on the Dimensional Traveling, go to this link and leave me with a comment, or several, with as much or as little detail about the dimension you'd like the Traveler to end up in. If you'd like to have something specific happen, share that too. I'll make sure that you get credit for the idea you shared in the chapter in which your dimension is featured. I'd love to have as many readers involved as possible. I think this could be a lot of fun.

As always, if you'd like to be tagged, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list.

Tag List: @littlemadamred @mxltifxnd0m @foxyjwls007

[january-summers]

Whoopsie, More Wash centric AUs, now with OCs for extra flavour.

What if he wasn’t court-martialed until the very end of the war so he never joined PFl, and instead of David, Agent Washington was some douche named George who either legit died on the cliff with Meta, or never recovered from Epsilon.

And, David kills some people in self defence, like has to shoot his direct superior in the head very publicly to stop them from ordering his entire platoon to their very avoidable deaths, or during his slap-on-the-wrist free-with-court-martial two months prison time he kills some guys in the showers because they were trying to kill/harm him, so he ends up with *serious* prison time.

Like ends up on the Tartarus, serious. And naturally he makes friends with the other inmates near his cell, including someone who probably shouldn’t be there because she’s technically still a teenager and her crimes were more white collar than murder even if they were very very serious. (Hacked ONI for the lulz, they’re trying to scare her into compliance/working for them.)

Think Emily Grey but with a more limited area of hyper-focused intelligence and higher anxiety/obvious autism.

Meanwhile with the Reds and Blues, Alpha Church managed to basically eat Sigma, O’Malley and Gary, because he didn’t have anyone to Emp them out in a last stand and Meta got their hands on him so it was eat or be eaten.

And he reconnects with Epsilon who basically treats it like a backstory update and goes on being Epsilon Church (Caboose is stoked, double best friend!)

(All Churches get their therapy moment and Tex gets to decide on her own personhood, going off to self examine for a bit and meeting up with Carolina, they get to talk out their issues and decide to kill Director. Tex gets to have her “I exist now, no matter how I was made I have experiences of my own and I am my own person, not your dead wife.” moment, and Carolina gets her, “you died when mum did, and I can’t, I won’t keep chasing your ghost.” moment.)

And the Reds and Blues get to keep the rest of the AIs by virtue of not mentioning they have them to others. They all still end up on Chorus.

In the Tartarus, David figures out what Felix is planning, and even though he has no interest in working for or with him, he still grabs the bars and warns his nearby inmates what’s probably about to happen. (It’s way too easy for David to think “if I was a sack of shit what would I do?”)

By cosmic coincidence, David ends up with the old Freelancer armour belonging to KIA Agent (George) Washington. (Price recognises David and mentions later that he’d actually been on the list for the project.)

David gets to be in charge of his own little strike team, not that anyone on it is particularly interested in working for team Felix.

“Do you think the locals will let us swap sides?” Asks one of David’s men.

But David shakes his head, “not after Felix and Locus pulled their multiyear double agent crap.”

“… is it Locus or Locust?”

“What?”

“The big scary one, is it Locus or Locust?”

“Locus?” Now David is questioning what he’s been hearing, because it could easily be eith- “Wait, where’s the kid?!”

The team is one short, the hacker teen who shouldn’t have been there is missing. She should be back up on the ship, but David didn’t like the idea of leaving her unsupervised. For her safety sure, but also the safety of others.

“Spread out, find her. Don’t engage with anyone unless you have to, finding the kid is priority.”

David finds her with a soldier in… Teal? Aqua? Cyan? Blue, it’s a shade of blue.

The kid is trying to poke at a small hologram next to the soldier and David makes it just in time to stop the kid from taking a knife to the anything.

“Hey now, let’s all just calm down and everyone respect everyone else’s personal space, okay? No putting fingers or knives in others, okay?”

“Well that’s definitely not Washington in there,” the soldier says, “that guy was a grade A asshole who would love to see knives in people.”

“You can call me D.C. Sorry about the kid, she gets excited about techy stuff. So, from what Counsellor Price said, you must be Agent Carolina?”

“That’s right,” Carolina confirms like she’d like nothing more than to stick her knife in David.

“… has he always been that much of a creepy asshole?” David asks, then notices the kid’s reflection in Carolina’s visor, fidgeting with her helmet. The kid stims by chewing on things, normally her braids, David knows. “Kid, I need you to keep your helmet on for me, okay? It keeps your head nice and safe.”

*someone gets headshot in the background*

“…er, safer.” David corrects.

-

And through the power of being him, David and his team get to join team good guy. the folks on Chorus.

And all is well with the world. Until the kid and dr Grey meet and everyone has to deal with the “oh god there’s two of them” perfectly reasonable fear response.

-

Sorry for any typos in this mess of a plot bunny, I wrote it on my phone in bits and pieces during a bbq, which lead to another, competing bunny asking the tough and distracting questions: who is the best griller out if all the Reds and Blues and Freelancers, who shouldn’t be allowed near a grill, and who is a great bbq master but is someone everyone thinks shouldn’t be allowed near a grill? (And vice-versa)

This whole bunny thread was just a way to lead to the “keeps your head safe *bang* -er. safer” joke. Was not expecting the Tex and Carolina detour, but stuff it, ladies road-trip of murder and justice!

[dragonwysper]

Hey guys guess what

Huge massive OC refsheet.

Left side is old shit I've made of him that give good reference, and right is a drawing I just did to show a full body pose and flat colors.

Top left: one of the first drawings I did with this specific palette, as part of a few test sketches to figure out where I wanted each color to be. I originally drew his hoodie much lighter so his shoes would be darker than his pants, but I changed that to emphasize his claws!

Top: head turnaround!! Because 3D grasp of a 2D character my beloved. And also I was hyperfixating a bit on animation at the time haha.

Bottom left: style experimentation! This one's fairly recent actually. It's here in his ref to demonstrate that you can really just go wild with him and his colors, you just have to keep him mostly recognizable yk.

Bottom middle: a collection of expressions! Red one has an old design/palette but exhibits a lineless style, blush was to demonstrate the blood guide (right), and other two were made pre-blood guide as an experimentation with his main values for shading.

Bottom right: blood guide! I put. Way too much effort into that thing. It basically tells you not only what color his blush and stuff would be based on his blood color, but also tells you how to get those colors via digital layering and filters, for if you just wanna use his normal greys to draw his mouth and then slap the red over it later or something. The number is the layer opacity, col is color, nor is normal (no filter), and lum is luminance (which is basically the color filter but what would be the color is the one the luminance layer is clipped to). Doodles on the side are to demonstrate all them pretty colors.

I actually did something a little different with the drawing on the right! I roughly sketched out a pose while zoomed way out so I could see the entire positioning from back there, and forced myself to not focus on any details until I was satisfied with the base pose. I should've been doing that ages ago, but at least I'm doing it now!! Plus I colored his lineart, which is something I've been meaning to experiment with for a Long time.

Then we got his palette, with a bonus blood palette for easy reference, and some fonts from Dafont for his name and my @!

Sowwy for rambling about not even my character but stylistic choices for his refsheet 😔😔😔

If y'all wanna hear more about Him or his creation or history or anything though, please tell me because I would love to rant about him to you <3

[bakurapika]

arghhhhhh reading about parmenides and i want to bite a couch. it was presented interesting and well and everything but the author (peter adamson, very cool and sexy podcast philosophy writer) gave some speculation on why it's written this way and i'm like arghh

like ok, plato is writing little stories about philosophy conversations. he usually has Socrates as his personal self insert oc do not steal real person fanfiction. Socrates' MO is to go up to random people and be like "hey I don't know what a table is. can you define a table for me," and listen and nod and be like "hm... what about picnic tables? how does your definition apply" etc. basically the guy making the "is a hotdog a sandwich" meme. socrates says he doesn't know anything but is real loud about it.

plato also has this high falutin Theory of Forms that seems to have been notoriously hard to wrap your head around and easy to misunderstand in the ancient world as it is today. since plato only uses Socrates for self-insert, Socrates is the one with the theory of forms in the expanded plato universe canon

so, later in life, plato comes out with a new story about Li'l Socrates, trying to explain his Theory of Forms to a much cooler older philosopher. and the cool old philosopher is nice about it but starts pointing out problems in the Theory of Forms. but then at the end, when socrates can't explain it, the cool older philosopher is like "no kid... you gotta find the answer. if you really believe in this theory... this is a burden you've got to bear..." staring into the sunset and looking wise.

so people apparently are like, why did plato switch to a different character? what does this mean? did he stop believing his theory of forms?

i never bought into the theory of forms. i'm reading along. and i'm like, hang on cool old philosopher, are you being totally fair to socrates? ok yeah that question brings up some interesting points, but i don't think it's 100% defeating the idea, i mean this is totally arguable, let me just figure out how

then i remember that friggin post about "if you ask someone how to do something on the internet, they mock you, but if you offer an obviously wrong answer, people will fall over themselves to give you better advice"

i'm gritting my teeth. i'm slapping my cowboy hat on my knee. plato!!! you got in my fucking HEAD man!!!! i didn't believe the theory of forms when you had a dude just say it to me, but when you have a relatable guy try hesitantly to defend it from some kind but formidable challenger, suddenly i'm all about your theory of friggin forms!! now i'm writing down theories for how you could be right!!!

i'm so mad bc you know what? even though i KNOW i've been played, it's like after you get charmed in dnd. i KNOW it. but i am STILL like, in my gut, somehow convinced that there's something to this stupid theory now. i hate it. plato thanks a lot you freak. i apparently think your forms are plausible now. i hope your eternal reincarnated indestructible soul is happy

[fritzi2405]

Family isn’t always blood  MW Oc story

summary: After a successful Mission with 141, Erik thinks back on an old saying.

warnings: Cod typical violence, wound but no graphic describtion

a/n: This is the first fanfic I’ve written. It started to snow here where I live so I had this thought about a mission in the snow and just wanted to write it down. I also just really wanted to write some stuff for my oc and though hey why not. Bare with me on any spelling mistakes english is not my first language

wordcount: 1254 

The Wind was beating against the old wooden Walls of the small Cabin, howling like a hungry beast. Rubbing his cold Hands together Erik starred out the small Window in front of him, his tired mismatched eyes watching for any sign of life. A small crackling sound from his radio drew his attention away from the empty fields before him. “Comms Check. Odin how’s it looking out there?” the raspy, deep voice of Captain Price came through. Taking one last look out the window Erik answered, “All calm Captain, seeing no movement out there.”  “Keep your eyes open, the convoy should be here any minute.” “Roger that Bravo 6. Out here.”                                                                                                         

Propping up his Sniper Rifle the blonde-haired man scanned the Road behind the fields for the 100th time that night. Lights slowly moving down the Street caught his attention. Suddenly feeling much more awake he reached for his Radio “Bravo 6, I got movement on the north end of the road, could be the convoy.” “Roger Odin, don’t lose sight of them.” Shuffling and moving feet could be heard from the other end of the Comms. Directing his gaze back on the light creeping down the road Erik could now clearly see the Convoy moving slowly through the snow. In the Front where 2 small black vehicles followed by what looked to be a troop transport, after that driving in the middle of the line was a container housing the stolen weapons they where after. Following the weapon transport where a smaller troop transport and ending the line was a truck.                                                                                                                                       

Not taking his scope of the container he waited for the captain’s signal. Movement in the trees near the Road and an easy to miss flash of light was all the sign he needed, he lined up his shot, hitting the weapon transport driver right in the head dropping him immediately. The confusion created by the sudden stop of the transport made the rest of the line come to stand still. And then, fast as lightning, Task Force 141 moved in clearing a way to the weapons. The hulking figure of Ghost followed by Soap could be seen moving forward from the back while Price with Gaz by his side moved in from the front. Both teams were followed by a few other Soldiers.                                                                      

Taking shots where he could Erik dropped one Guard after another. A roaring noise coming from where the escort originally emerged grabbed the germans attention. “Soap, Ghost be advised there is another car coming from behind you” he spoke into his radio notifying his teammates. “We’re a little busy right now Odin.” Soap responded the distress clear in his voice. “Can you cover us?”    “Sure thing my Scottish friend.”                                                                                                                                                                                                        

With the cover provided by Erik, Ghost and Soap moved forward soon reaching the payload shortly followed by Price and his group. They secured the vehicle making sure no other enemies were nearby. “Get ready Odin, we’re leaving.” “Roger.” Erik jumped up grabbing his bag. He bolted out the house completely forgetting the cold he felt only moments before. The Snow was now coming down heavier, the freezing wind was pounding against the man’s half covered face as he sprinted towards the rendezvous point. As the car came into few Erik released a breath, he didn’t realise he was holding. He heard Gaz yell something to him but the building Storm around them was to load completely swallowing the young brit’s voice. Erik got into the Truck right as the sound of wheels could be heard behind them. With Ghost pressing down on the Gas pedal so hard it might break they sped off, leaving the Reinforcements coming for them behind as the Snowstorm rolled in.

Back at Base, the weapons safely stored away, Price went off to report back to Laswell. Meanwhile the rest of the Task Force moved to the Barracks to warm up. Now with the Adrenaline wearing of Erik could feel just how cold it was outside, silently thanking himself for wearing his face covering. Getting inside he let out a pleased sigh as the warmth hit him. Looking around he could see the comfort set in the faces of the others as well. Even Ghost wore a calm expression in those dark eyes of his. Though one face was off. Gaz, although also looking more comfortable wore a somewhat pained look on his face. Walking over to him, Erik noticed him clutching his left arm. He tapped him on the Shoulder “Hey Gaz, you alright?” The Brit looked up at the man “ah no… one of the little pricks got me in the arm, its only a graze but still hurts.” He hissed while moving his hand away form the Wound. It wasn’t bad, truly just a graze wound, nothing that would need sewing up but still shouldn’t be left untreated. Softly taking the younger man’s arm in his hands he looked at him “You want the medics to take a look at it?” Gaz shook his head. “The let me treat it at least, wouldn’t want you to get an infection.” Seeing that there was no room to protest Gaz shook of his jacked and let the blond look at his arm. “Mhm… Soap be a dear and hand me that med kit over there.” His comment earning a playful slap on the arm from the Scott as he took the med kit form the Sergeant. Grabbing the alcohol and a cotton ball his mismatched green and grey eyes looked back into Kyles dark brown ones. The look he gave Erik reminded him of a how a younger sibling looks at their older Brother, bringing a smile to the tired mans features. “I think you know how this goes Gaz, since it’s just a surface wound, I only need to clean and bandage it.” All Erik go for an answer was an approving huff. He dapped the small piece of Cotton in the clear alcohol and brushed it over the gash on Gaz’s arm who took in a sharp breath through gritted teeth. Ghost gave the man a comforting clap on the back while walking past them to the gun locker on the side of the room. Removing the Cotton from Kyle’s arm Erik wrapped the now clean cut in bandages then took a step back admiring his handywork. “There you go, all done. Just change the Bandages tomorrow when you wake up.” Gaz gave the tall man an exhausted smile “Thanks Odin, you would make a great Nurse.” “Now you’re pushing your luck Sergeant” Erik chuckled. “Just taking the piss Sir.”                                                                                                                                                                                                      

While sitting down on his cot and watching the others do their own thing Erik thought back on the day. They were tracking these weapons for a few weeks now. Laswell had asked for his support when the cargo crossed German boarders and he was fast to expect enjoying the last times he got to work with 141. Over the past missions he was able to complete with the Special Task Force he grew close with them; he would definitely call them his friends. The charming Scottish Man, the grumpy Cigar smoking Captain, Ghost with all his secrets and Gaz who’s like a little brother to him, he truly valued the connection he had with these men, and he hopped that one day soon he would be able to back them up again.                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

And in times like these he couldn’t agree more that family isn’t always blood.

[sergeant-spoons]

C, F, H and T 🥰😘

Ask game linked here (it won’t show up on my blog, for some reason, and a chance to link to @mercurygray’s wonderful profile is always a plus - go read her work!).

C: What member do you identify with most?

Hmmm—that’s a hard one! I think, in a way, that my OCs all derive from a part of my own personality. Their core traits tend to be the traits I wish I could amplify in myself. So I suppose it’s fair to say that I identify with Phyllis Dotson’s love of baking and want for a family just as much as I identify with Verity Rich’s mom-friend instincts and introvertedness. The same goes for Harley Gibbs’ independence, Judy Hartmann’s love of writing (no surprises there, I bet), Leslie Sheppard’s die-hard loyalty; the list goes on.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This one took me a while to figure out. I think my favorite dialogue scenes are from this one shot—From May to June—this other one shot—There’s A Fine, Fine Line—and this scene in In Defense of Chicanery—Chapter 36.

For From May to June and There’s A Fine, Fine Line: I think these two pieces are some of the best characterizations I’ve done with George Luz and Bill Guarnere respectively. 

Ex (From May to June):

“I love that laugh.”

“Mine?”

He snorts.

“No, General Taylor’s.”

and (There’s A Fine, Fine Line)

Powler seems about to correct him, then decides it's not worth it.

"No. You're not sleeping there."

"Ain't ya choice, Miss-"

"If it's too small for me it's much too small for you," she argues before he can think of an applicable epitaph other than 'Gorgeous'.

"Are you callin' me fat?" He knows she isn't, but he thinks it will make her squirm, and he's right.

And from IDOC:

“Huh!” Skip waved, smirking with his usual cheer and charm. “Consider us blessed. Hey, Victor Rich, over there, huddlin’ up to Doc- not so lucky. Got knicked in the ear by a bullet from the heavens above.” 

Skip cupped his hands around his mouth as if Verity could no longer hear him quite so well. 

“How’s that old thing healin’ up, you poor martyr?”

She mustered an empty chuckle for his sake, consoled just enough by Gene’s distant warmth pressed against her side.

“Well, I can still hear, so not as hole-y as you think.”

For this ^^ excerpt, it was (and remains) one of my favorite scenes to write. This is the wounded list scene with Skip, Lipton, Popeye, Liebgott, Guarnere, and the rest of Easy in Bastogne right after Joe Toye returns from the aid station. The scene in the show is a breath of fresh air in the middle of a very difficult and damaging situation—writing it in IDOC felt very much the same.

Also, I love this bit, a little earlier in the scene...

“Perry Bloom over there,” he [Skip] announced, “got his fingers nipped at by the winter, but he’s got a mean left hook, so he fended off the freeze alright.”

“I taught him that,” Toye cut in, and Perry nodded along gladly, sharing a glance with Toye that made Verity shrink slightly into her scarf. They were being a bit bold, weren’t they? Then again, what she wouldn’t give for the chance to express warmth and seek comfort without having to hide it all the damn time.

...because it is one of very few moments in which we get to see Toye and Perry’s blossoming relationship.

H: How would you describe your style?

I think the biggest thing I would identify with my style is the habit I have of using actions between dialogue more often than dialogue tags (or, similarly, using a dialogue tag with an action attached). My ADHD leads me to pay attention to whatever a person is doing while they are speaking (if I am physically present with them) and something I have noticed is that there is very rarely stagnancy in a natural conversation/situation. Life is full of motion. Even the most minute actions—like the tapping of a foot, a glance at a passing butterfly, or the flickering of a smile—can add that pinch of realism I’m always looking to put into my writing.

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand?

None that I can think of off the top of my head in the Band of Brothers fandom, but in The Hobbit fandom, there is a shocking number of (quick trigger warning) incest fics with the Durins (Thorin, Fili, and Kili), a ‘trope’ which makes me very uncomfy.

Thank you so much for this ask, Francy! ILY, my dear. 🥰💕

[neostorm]

Azure Verum

Meet my grim reaper, the one responsible for collecting the souls of the dead, she is known as the Terror of Death Azure Verum, she’s approximately 100 years old but has only done this job for 80 years, she is cold and merciless, it doesn't matter how or why if you in her death list she will search find and them kill you in that order, she is always followed by dark  butterflies

At least that is what she was supposed to be, one day i found this magical pen on the way back from school, though i didn't know that a the time, it looked just like a regular pen, it was in the middle of the road and looked good so it took it, once i got home i put to the test picking a random unfinished drawing of Azure, there was no written information outside of her powers the only lore that she had was in my head…now that i think about it that was for the better, once i finished the drawing both the pen and paper started glowing i could not see anything once the glow stopped there she was Azure Verum herself the terror of death in the middle of my room to say i was shocked and afraid would be an understatement, but she was way more afraid than me, like i said there wasn't any information written about her anywhere besides her powers and because of that, besides the clothes on her body, that’s all that she had, she didn't know who she was, where she was(tho that one she wouldn’t know anyway), and who i was, after an hour both of us manage to calm down i tried to understand the situation and shortly figure out the pen was to blame for this situation i had some kind of magic that bought whatever it draw to life, well now i knew what happened the problem was how to deal with the situation at hand, there was a pink haired, with blue skin, blank state of an elf girl sitting in his bed, she was nothing like the Azure that i created in my head so all the knowledge that i had on her would be useless because she wouldn’t know any of it, plus i don’t think that telling someone that they are the grim reaper is a good idea, they would either panic or assume that they are there to kill and try to do their job, it is also not easy to tell someone “hey, so you are a fictional character made by me which means that you are not real and also that i’m your god”, that didn't stop me from trying i told her who i was and who she was and she accepts all that i said like it was the truth guess that when you don’t have memories or a personality you just believe anything that its told to you,after that i keep wondering what to do with her, i couldn't just throw her out and i was pretty sure that a wouldn’t be capable of just erasing her, day after day passed, then days became weeks and weeks months, Azure started growing more of a personality by the day less afraid and more happy and loving, she starts growing likes, dislikes, and hobbies, she likes to watch anime and after seeing so many waifus she decided to become one, going the complete different direction from what the original Azure was but wasn't angry she came to the world as a blank slate so she had all the right to decide  what kind of person she wanted to be that was when Azure Verum Terror of Death died and Azure Verum Reaper Waifu was born she even asked for a scythe to complete the look, i didn't want to design one so i just gave the beta design of another oc

Azure Reaper Waifu is a loving and caring elf girl who is 100 years old, existed for 2 years, and has the body and mentality of an 18 year old, she likes anime and manga, cosplay, and apparently me, guess that as someone who can bring things to life she thinks of me as the personification of life and she death opposites attract, she doesn’t really have dislikes and if she has she hasn't told me, now you ask me how does an elf with blue skin with no identity or legal documents can go out? well with magic, of course, she uses illusions to disguise herself and i use my pen and some outside help to forge some documents for her , the butterflies still follow her but now they are pink, she stay at my home now and is responsible of keeping track of what oc's I have and which I'm using and in what stories they are

[fanfoolishness]

OC time! I don’t think I know much about your OCs, so 5, 6, 7, and 8 for Min Hawke?

5. Can they cry on command? If so, what do they think about to make it happen?

Min typically prides herself on being able to keep her composure; it's easy to ward off tears with a joke and a laugh, but that makes it more confusing and explosive when she does cry. She did cry on command once as a distraction while Anders, Varric and Bethany helped a mage hide on the Wounded Coast from templars. At first her tears were fairly unconvincing and the templars nearly shoved her aside, but she remembered Carver -- brave, foolish, infuriating Carver tossing a bread roll at her head over dinner one night -- and she burst into genuine tears. It was enough of a distraction for the mage to escape. When she regrouped with the others later, her face ruddy and eyes puffy, Anders and Varric looked puzzled, but Bethany squeezed her hand.

6. What’s their favorite experience that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

Min worked her family's farm in Lothering with the twins, usually moaning about it and coming up with silly stories to pass the time. She never let on that she enjoyed the work. But sometimes when the twins were already in bed, and Dad and Mum were winding down for the night, she would head out back with a bit of sugar for their old plow-horse Corrie. The big gelding would lower his head, velvet-soft lips brushing against her palm, big whuffs of warm breath against her skin, and she'd look up at the stars, grateful for a moment of quiet all to herself.

7. What would you (mun) yell in the middle of a crowd to find them? What would their best friend and/or romantic partner yell?

I don't understand the first question (what is mun?). Edit - apparently it's just me. Ah. Well, as her creator I suppose I would yell "HEY ELDEST CHILD WHOSE STORY RESONATED A LOT MORE WITH ME WHEN I TOO LOST MY BROTHER (AND ALSO WHEN I FIGURED OUT I COULD WRITE YOU BANGING THE DWARF, NOT GONNA LIE)" but I'd be very out of breath doing so.

Most people would yell "Hawke!" or "The Champion!" and Min would duck into the crowd, weaving into the shadows with a grimace on her face. She's had enough of the Champion mythos for a lifetime. But Varric would yell "HEY! SPARROW!" and she'd leap up on a curb or a step to get above the crowd, bellowing back "OY! DWARF!"

8. How loose is their use of the phrase ‘I love you’?

Very loose in a jokey way. The right barkeep might get an I love you with a good enough ale; a friend might get told she loves them to bits. But with Anders, and then with Varric, the I love yous were halting, unexpected, bursting out at inopportune times. Once the seal had been breached, though, it was easy enough to whisper with a kiss.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Eight-Part 2)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 20.5k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, oc struggles with her future, mentions of vibrator, mentions of cum eating, dirty talk, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), masturbation, swallowing

Notes: woooaahh we got only one chapter left guys! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:) I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous

~~~~~~~~~~~~

November

It shouldn’t be this hard. Figuring out your entire future as a human being should not be this fucking hard, but it is. It’s not that you mind making cookies, or that you look down on yourself for it but it’s not what you want to do forever. Actually, you aren’t sure you want to do anything forever. You wish you could just travel, and that’s how you live life.

“What’s on your mind?” Jungkook asks from besides you. You two are at your favorite coffee stop, Jungkook is working on his laptop for work and you are journaling in your cute pink notebook.

“What do you mean?”

“I can tell something is bothering you…” Jungkook closes his laptop and gives you his full attention.

“It’s nothing.” You say nonchalantly.

“I’m all ears baby.”

“Okay…” you set your pen down and look into Jungkook’s eyes.

“I’m struggling with what I want to do.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know, my whole fucking future. I don’t know what it is I want!” your head falls into your hands, “I hate marketing.”

“Wait, what? You hate…what you got a degree in?”

“I kind of told you before…I only got a degree in it because I knew I would be able to find a job in the field. But that’s not exactly going as planned.”

Jungkook bites down on his lips as he watches you, you look lost and confused and frustrated. It makes his heart hurt.

“How long have you been feeling this way?”

“Forever but it only got worse after graduation.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“No offense Jungkook but you kind of stopped talking to me for three of those months.” You snap at him and he winces, “Sorry…” you shake your head, “I’m just irritated right now.”

“How can I help?”

“You can’t.” you groan, “No one can help me. I’m fucked.”

“y/n that’s not true.”

“What do you want in life? What makes you happy?”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. That’s a part of my problem, I don’t fucking know.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He reaches his hands over the table to hold on to yours.

“Easy for you say,” you snap again, “You are living your dream. The film company you interned for during college hired you on as a permanent employee.” You complain.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t feel for you y/n.”

“Right, we can feel bad for me but you don’t get what I’m going through.”

Jungkook winces again at the sharp stab of your words, “I’m trying to understand though.”

“Forget it.”

“No. y/n, I want to help.”

“Maybe I need to go home.”

“Huh?” Jungkook’s hold tightens on your hand. “Go home?”

“Just for a visit. I miss my parents, I think. They may be able to help.”

“For how long?”

“Just for a few days, nothing crazy. Don’t worry, you won’t miss me too much.”

“I always miss you.”

You laugh at Jungkook’s pouting face. He looks so cute.

“Why don’t…why don’t you come with me?” You try asking. “You have weekends off, right? We can go next weekend?”

“Wait,” Jungkook looks at you with his bunny grin. “You want me to come? And meet your parents?”

“Isn’t it a little weird, you’re my best friend but they’ve only ever heard about you. So yes, you can come and meet my parents.”

“Are you sure?” his grin widens. “You really want me to go? For a whole weekend?”

“I mean, as long as Vanessa is okay with it…”

“I’ll talk to her about it,” Jungkook smile fades just the slightest. “But I am sure it will be fine.”

“My mom thinks you’re very handsome.”

“Your mom is on to something.” He jokes.

“My parents are a little protective over me…just a warning. And they might tease us…only because you’re a boy!”

“Tease us how?”

“Oh come on, you know how it is…I bring a boy home…blah blah blah.”

Realization hits Jungkook as he sips on his coffee and he starts laughing.

“Like, they’ll want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

You and Jungkook share a look that you don’t really know what it could mean but you tear your eyes away from him and pick up your pen again.

“We can decide on the details later, talk to Vanessa first.”

“Got it.”

~~~~~

“Teaching nine year old’s is easier than teaching you.” Jimin says out of breath, his hands on his hips. “How do you not get this? Move your left foot here then your hands go…” he tries reteaching you the steps, “No, not there.” He groans out.

“Jimin, it’s hard! Use someone else at your test subject!”

“Jungkook is busy with what’s her face, Trina and Holly are doing god knows what, so tonight you are all I’ve got.”

“Thanks, I’m flattered. Also, you literally have a million friends.” You point out.

“But you’re my favorite.” He winks at you, he runs a hand through his hair and he sighs out again. “Let’s take a break.”

“Sounds good to me.” You chirp happily. “So, did Jungkook tell you he might be coming with me to my parents this weekend?”

“He what now?” Jimin gives you a concerned look, “Babe…”

“What?”

“Actually,” Jimin allows a smirk to play on his lips, “I like this idea, maybe it will get you guys one step closer to getting together.” He shrugs.

“That’s—that’s not the point. I’m going because I miss home and honestly it would be nice to have Jungkook there but also he’s never met them!”

“Yeah, that’s weird.”

“But I told him to get the ‘ok’ from Vanessa.”

“You’re so respectful. I could never.”

You two plop down onto Jimin’s sofa, a water bottle in hand as you gulp it down. The fresh liquid making you feel revived again. It’s been a couple days since you saw Jungkook, you asked to hang out tonight but he already had plans with Vanessa. You try so hard not to be hurt by that because why would you? What were you expecting? For him to cancel his plans with her and run off into the sunset with you? Yes, you silently think to yourself.

“What made you want to go home anyway?” Jimin asks, tilting his head to get a good look at you.

“Quarter life crisis, no biggie.”

“Makes sense.” Jimin stretches his arms out over his head and yawns. “What’s the crisis?”

“All my friends are passionate about what they do and here I am.”

“Babe, don’t compare yourself to others…I hate when you do that. Also, I’m not sure my passion is teaching clumsy nine year old’s how to do a simple dance move.” Jimin huffs out, “I wish I was the one on stage…”

“Jimin…sorry, I know this isn’t really what you wanted…”

“It’s okay…the kids are cute, I guess. And they’re faster learners compared to you.”

“Hey!” you fuss, “These kids are in advanced classes, okay?”

“Babe, this is for beginners.”

“Whatever.”

“So, marketing ain’t it huh?” Jimin asks and you nod your head, “I could of told you that five minutes after I met you.”

“Maybe you should of.”

“But you already knew it wasn’t for you though…why did you keep at it?”

“I don’t know anymore.” You whine, “I wish I could just do something a little meaningful then have enough money to travel!”

“Why don’t you teach English abroad?” Jimin turns on his side to face you, “You get to travel and do something meaningful.”

Your head tilts to the side as you process his words, was that kind of a good idea?

“Hm…” you bite on your lip. “That’s—that’s not a bad idea actually.”

“But you would leave us all behind, you get that, right?” Jimin chuckles, “Not sure Jungkook would let you leave.”

“It’s a lot to process and think about, but it’s a cool option.” You admit, stretching your arms out in front of you, “Shit, that dance was a work out!”

“You barely did anything though…”

“I did enough to make me feel this soreness creeping in.” you defend yourself quickly, “So, do you think Vanessa will give Jungkook the ‘ok’ to come with me?”

“I don’t see why not, she doesn’t seem like the controlling type, right?”

“Not really…she’s kind of odd. I’m trying so hard to understand her but she makes it kind of difficult.”

“Didn’t you say she didn’t want to interact with any of us at JK’s party because she’s only there for him?”

“Yup.”

“Damn, I don’t know if I should be mad at that or like, salute her for it.”

You start laughing and Jimin joins you but tells you he’s serious, you just keep laughing and nod your head.

“I kind of get that.” You giggle. “I want to ask Jungkook if she has some sort of social anxiety, it’s the only thing I can come up with on why she’s so…her.”

“Why don’t you?” Jimin asks, and he’s right, why don’t you? You’re just afraid of offending him about her and you don’t want to deal with that…

“I don’t know.”

“Just because you’re trying to be cool about everything doesn’t mean you have to try and be friends with her…it doesn’t seem like she wants to make any friends with any of us, so don’t try to push it.” Jimin advices and you hate that maybe he’s right.

“I know but…”

“No but’s!” Jimin cuts in, “The only butt that matters is mine.” He says giving his ass a little spank. You chuckle and hit his arm and shake your head at him.

“Fine.”

“So, what would you do if Jungkook confessed his feelings to you?”

You lift your head to face Jimin, your eyes filled with surprise. You close them and shake your head a little bit and try to form some words very pathetically.

“W-What? W-Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you asking that?”

“Just curious…” Jimin sucks in his thick bottom lip and pouts.

“I would…I don’t know what I would do.” You respond honestly. Jimin rolls his eyes and stands from the couch and places his hands on his hips.

“You would return his feelings wouldn’t you? Jump in his arms? Kiss him?”

“Jimin…” your tone warns him to chill out, “I would be shocked probably. But if he was serious…of course, I would do all those things…” you finish shyly.

“Perfect. Now just tell him all of that.”

“Jimin…”

“You have til the end of the year.” Jimin states confidently, “then I am forcing you two in a room, revealing everything and making you talk.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Mark my fucking words bish.”

Dude…Jimin sounds and looks fucking serious.

“Jimin seriously, don’t do that. Don’t put me on the spot like that.”

Jimin plugs his ear holes with his pointer fingers and starts singing a beautiful ‘lalala’ and proceeds to ignore you as you try to get his attention.

“Jimin, seriously!”

“y/n.” he takes his fingers out and becomes more serious, “I said mark my fucking words.”

~~~~~~

Jungkook and Vanessa lazily lay on her bed, his arm draped across her waist while she plays some music game on her phone.

“I’m sorry again.” Jungkook whispers out, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

“It’s okay.” Vanessa says softly, “You just aren’t in the mood tonight, and that’s okay.” She continues to look at her phone, her fingers going at it on her game.

“Maybe we can try again la—”

“My Jungkookie just doesn’t want me tonight.”

“Vanessa…don’t say it like that.”

She lifts her head up to smile at him, it’s one of those coy, secretive smiles and Jungkook feels worse.

“So about this weekend, you’re wanting to go with y/n to her parent’s house?”

“I don’t have to go, I know we had plans on Saturday.”

“No, no. Don’t be silly, I don’t mind.” She says smoothly, “It sounds like a good idea.”

“Good idea how?”

“Oh nothing.” She says, going back to her game. “You should go.”

“Okay, I’ll let her know…” Jungkook pulls out his phone to send you a text. You text back within seconds sending him the thumbs up emoji. He feels his entire chest go warm at the thought of going with you this weekend.

He’s never met a girl’s parents, not like this. Not with someone that means as much to him as you do. So he feels as nervous as he does excited. He wants to look his best, he wants to present himself maturely. What does that even mean? Not even Jungkook knows but he thinks it makes sense.

“I can go down on you Vanessa…” Jungkook offers, still feeling guilty.

“No need, I’m not really in the mood either.” She says nonchalantly, too focused on her game at hand.

He has vowed that he won’t think of you while being with Vanessa and usually that would be no problem but tonight…he couldn’t get in the mood at all. All he wanted to do was think about you.

Sex with you…is just different. It feels so fucking good on all levels physical but also all levels emotional. He knows exactly what it feels like to have his cock between your lips and down your throat, he knows exactly what it feels like to fondle your breasts and suck on them too. He knows exactly what you taste like, and god, it is his favorite flavor. He knows exactly how you sound when you’re being fucking pounded and exactly how you sound when you come.

“Is this okay?” Jungkook keeps asking you, his fingers bunching up your hair and you nod pathetically.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you? Since I fucking met you.” He admits, his fingers traveling down to your panties, he pushes them aside as he dips a finger into your wet hole. You moan out, your moan loud and high pitched and Jungkook can’t help but smirk.

“Please…”

“Please what?”

“Another finger.” You practically fucking beg, and Jungkook complies quite easily. He slips another finger into your greedy fucking pussy and you yelp. He moves his fingers inside you so fucking expertly, making your toes curl.

“You make me feel so good.” You whimper out.

Jungkook can’t help but reach down and rub his aching cock through his briefs, he wants to feel good too. He is absolutely aching for you, wanting to be touched by you so badly.

“Stop touching yourself” you command and Jungkook being the good boy he is, listens.

“Make me come, Jungkook.” And once again, he complies. He makes you come all over his fingers and then he makes you come again on his tongue and then for a third time, he makes you come on his tongue again making you feel fucking spent.

“Lay on your back.” You order and his eyes go wide with excitement. You lay down next to him and your fingers very delicately dance across his lower stomach. He sighs out heavily, releasing long breaths one after the other. Your fingers reach the waist band of his briefs and you begin to slowly drag them down. His cock springs free and your mouth waters at the sight. There’s no way he is this blessed. He’s so incredibly long and thick, the head of his cock swollen and leaking with precum.

“You wanted to touch yourself right?” you tease. “Now’s your chance.”

“W-What?”

“I want you to touch yourself, Jungkook. You can use my juices as lube,” you say, spreading your legs, your own cum sticky against your inner thighs.

Jungkook’s doe eyes turn sharp as he stares at you and he whimpers. Fucking whimpers. He is quick to gather your juices in his hand and start jacking himself off. He holds on to his cock tightly, rubbing it viciously.

“Ah. Ah.” He groans out, his eyes never leaving yours as he touches himself.

“Such a good boy, Jungkook. God, can you imagine if this gorgeous cock was in my mouth right now?” you whisper in his ear.

“Can you imagine my pretty pink lips wrapped around you, my head bobbing up and down? Can you hear me choke? Choke on this pretty cock?”

“So close, y/n. please don’t stop.”

“You’re not allowed to come yet. Can you imagine fucking me, Jungkook?

“God, yes, yes, yes.”

“Can you imagine thrusting into my pussy? My walls getting tight around your cock? Making us both come?”

“Fuck, y/n. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come.”

You raise yourself, leaning away from his ear and smirk down at him.

“Since you were so good for me, I’ll reward you. I’ll let you come. And I’ll let you come down my throat.”

You move until you’re on top of him, you lean down until you’re replacing his hand with your mouth. He groans out loudly when he feels his cock enter your warm mouth and you moan into the feeling.

“Fuuuuuck.”

And Jungkook is coming so fucking hard, he doesn’t think he has ever come this hard before. He shoots his cum down your throat and you swallow it all, not even a drop left behind on your lips.

You rise from his cock and smile down at him and he lifts himself up and his lips crash into yours.

Jungkook pulls away for a moment, his eyes dark and his voice low,

“Now I am going to fuck you.”

“Since I’ll be gone this weekend, should we go on a date tomorrow night?”

Vanessa pauses her game and looks straight ahead, she zones out for a few seconds before she’s quietly clearing her throat and looking Jungkook’s way.

“No…I have plans, sorry.”

“Plans?”

“Yes, plans.” The ‘s’ leaves her lips sounding so silky. “You should find something else to do.” Then vanessa exits her game to send a quick text to someone. After a minute or two passes she’s looking at him again.

“y/n’s free tomorrow night, you should just hang with her.”

Jungkook pushes his head back in disbelief, did…

“Did you text y/n…for me?”

“Yes.” Vanessa looks at him, her small eyes going wide, “I was just trying to find you something to do.”

Jungkook stares at her in shock and then bursts out into laughter.

“Sorry, sorry. I just…never thought you would do something like that but somehow it feels on brand.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her innocent voice making Jungkook smile.

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Okay, I’ll send her a text…”

Jungkook 10:13pm

So, I hear youre free tmrw night lol

y/n 10:13pm

you hear right lmaaoo

Jungkook 10:14pm

Should we do something?

y/n 10:14pm

I think Jin says he’s having a small cookout at his place, should we go?

Jungkook 10:15pm

Sounds good, I’ll drive. Pick you up at 6?

y/n 10:16pm

yay! Yeah 6 works for me. :)

Jungkook slides his phone into his pocket and looks at Vanessa with a confused expression…

“Why do you want me to hang with y/n?”

“She’s your best friend.” She responds easily. “Plus, since I am busy I feel bad to leave you hanging.”

“You’re not seeing him…right?”

“It doesn’t matter who I am seeing.” She opens the music game app again and starts focusing on beating her last score.

Jungkook sighs out in defeat, sometimes talking to Vanessa gets him nowhere. He pulls out his phone again and checks the time.

“Maybe I should head home…” He begins to say, “I’ll text you throughout the weekend and I’ll see you after.”

“Don’t be rude and be on your phone while you’re in her parents company.” Jungkook scoffs, that’s super rich coming from her.

“Okay, I won’t text so much, but I will see you after the weekend okay?”

“Sure.” She uses one hand to wave him off but he still leans over to kiss her cheek.

~~~~~

You still can’t get over just how huge Jin’s house is! You are currently lost trying to find the bathroom again. You open up a door to a bedroom and get reminded of the night you were with Tae. It’s the same room. Wow, that feels like a lifetime ago.

You continue strolling down the hall until you come to the last door—the bathroom.

You use it quickly and head back outside to join the rest of your friends. Jin saved a seat for you next to him and you can’t help but smile.

“Jungkook says you two are heading to your parents this weekend!” Jin exclaims excitedly.

“I wanna meet your parents too!” Hobi whines, “I am great with parents!”

“I’m sure you two will have a lovely time.” Namjoon joins the conversation.

“By the way y/n…” Jin looks awkwardly to the side, “I invited Tae, I know you two are broken up…”

“Oh no, it’s okay. We’re friends.”

At this, Jungkook ears perk up, “Friends? Since when?”

“It just happened like that.” You shrug.

Jin claps his hands together, “Perfect. And then Jimin should be here by now, let me call him.”

Jin takes out his phone and dials for Jimin.

“So, you two are friends now?” Jungkook pries, “Since when?”

“Since a little while ago. You should think about chilling out too.”

“Pshh.”

“Jimin is arriving, let me go let him in, I’ll be right back.” Jin says, standing from his chair.

“So y/n, how’s the job hunting going?” Namjoon asks, his leg crossed over the other as he leans forward to give you his full attention.

“Umm…” you bite your lip, Jungkook goes rigid at his question…knowing this is uncomfortable for you.

“it’s sort of on pause,” you admit, “Yeah, on pause.”

“Oh thank god!” Namjoon laughs, “I thought I was the only one!”

“I told you, you weren���t.” Hobi laughs too, patting Namjoon on the back.

“You too?” you asks, sighing out in relief. “It’s annoying, isn’t it?” you also laugh.

Jungkook visibly relaxes as he watches you chilling and having a good time.

“Look who else is here!” Jin comes back with Jimin, and behind Jimin is Taehyung and also…Yoongi?

“Yoongs?” you give him a confused look before breaking out into a smile.

“Hey everyone, nice to see you all again.” Yoongi gives everyone his gummy smile and a small wave of the hand.

“Yoongi!” Hobi yells out, “I’m so glad Tae brought you!”

You remember them two hitting it off at Jungkook’s birthday party, so you nod in approval.

“Hi Tae, hi Jimin.”

“Hello beautiful.” Jimin comes to you, leans down and hugs you. Taehyung waves at you excitedly.

“Hi Jungkook.” Taehyung offers a greeting quite awkwardly but Jungkook nods his head and smiles,

“Hey man.”

You tilt your head to look at Jungkook, surprise written all over your face as you smile wide at him.

“The gangs all here!” Jin yells out, the happiness evident in his voice. “Let’s start cooking!”

The evening sun is your favorite, the way it sets the sky on fire with its beautiful rays of gold. It gets really chilly, especially at night since it is the middle of November. You stand next to the pool in the backyard when you feel a jacket get draped over your shoulders.

“Hi Jungkook.” You say without looking who it is, somehow you just know.

“Whatcha thinking about?” He asks, coming to your side.

“Life, and everything in it.”

You turn around to get a look at all the guys, Jin and Namjoon at the grill, Yoongi and Hobi discussing something dealing with music, Tae and Jimin playing rock, paper, scissors and Jungkook here at your side. You feel incredibly lucky to be surrounded by such great friends. These 7 men making it hard to leave.

“I’ve been thinking about teaching English abroad…nothing is set in stone, it’s just an idea. But I kind of like it.”

“Abroad? Like away from here? Away from me?” Jungkook whispers out as he realizes what that means.

“It’s just an idea.”

Jungkook looks at your side profile and smiles, he leans into your side and wraps the jacket even more snug against your body.

“Whatever will make you happy y/n.” he says softly, and you know he means it.

“Let’s go join the other guys.” You say, you grab a hold of Jungkook’s hand and you two walk towards the other boys. They’re loud, rumbunctious and some of your favorite people. You couldn’t feel more at home and at peace.

“Okay, so who wants a sausage? I cooked them perfectly.” Jin shows a plate of meat, showcasing how absolutely perfect they are to everyone.

“Hey, I helped.” Namjoon pouts.

“Yeah, he……….’helped’” Jimin uses air quotes emphasizing ‘help’.

“Hey I did!”

“Moral support barely counts as help dude.” Hobi says, cracking up.

“Fine, nobody eat this hamburger patty,” he points to one single patty. “Because I cooked it.”

“Nobody wants to eat that hamburger patty.” Taehyung teases.

“I’ll eat your hamburger patty.” You chirp.

“Kiss ass.” Yoongi chuckles, walking up next to the grill. “Oh Jin, don’t forget to give me your number later so we can plan that fishing trip.”

“You two are planning a fishing trip?” You eye Yoongi, “I see you’re making friends.”

“Shut up.” He smiles shyly.

“So Jungkook,” Taehyung faces Jungkook and smirks, “Are you nervous about meeting y/n’s parents?”

“Yeah, Jungkookie, are you nervous?” Hobi chips in.

Jungkook’s eyes fall to the ground as he chews on his lips, he scratches the back of his neck and smiles softly.

“Maybe a little.”

“Why?” you ask, leaning into Jungkook’s frame, “Nothing to be nervous about.”

“Are you sure y/n?” Yoongi begins to tease you, “You are their little ‘miracle’ baby.”

“Shut up!” you laugh, “It will be fine, Jungkook. I promise.”

“I’m not too worried.” He says, he looks down at the ground still, his smile growing.

~~~~~~

You wait by your front door with a small suitcase in hand, humming some song. Jungkook should be here at any moment! He said he was on his way after work about 15 minutes ago and you know it shouldn’t take too long.

You cannot wait to see your parents, if you’re honest. You haven’t visited them in almost half a year! What you need is your parent’s loving embrace and also their wise words.

And it is pretty damn exciting you get to finally introduce your best friend to them. It’s a 4 hour drive, so you have a lot to catch Jungkook up on, you know, what your parents are even like up close and personal.

Your phone starts buzzing, and you pull it from you back pocket to see Jungkook sent a text that he has arrived.

“See you, Holly!” you yell out, but she’s in her room with the music on so you doubt she hears you. You think she said Trina is staying over for the weekend, so you know she won’t be lonely without you.

You make your way to Jungkook’s car (he offered to drive to your parents, which you do not mind in the least.) and see him waiting outside of it for you. He’s leaning against the car like a fucking stud. Yes, you just said fucking stud. Because that’s what he looks like. You hate that your god damn vagina reacts first! That bitch is booming as you eye him up and down. His tight jeans, chunky boots and striped sweater are a good look on him. His hair is pushed away from his forehead, split down the middle and he looks so fucking hot.

“Hi.” You call out, joining him at his car.

“Hey there.” He says cooly, grabbing your suitcase from you. He opens the back door and sets it inside next to his, “You ready?” he asks with a smirk.

“Yup” you pop the ‘p’ and smile back at him.

“Okay and my mom is sweet, I swear. But she sort of has no filter. My dad’s really laid back and wont tease as much…probably.” You say, stuffing your mouth with bagged popcorn.

“Probably?” Jungkook chuckles, he reaches for a handful of popcorn himself.

“Meaning he will probably let my mom do all the talking for the most part and he will only make somecomments.”

“What sort of comments should we expect?”

Suddenly, you feel your cheeks flush and you become a little shy.

“I don’t know, figure it out.” You whisper, digging in the bag for more of the snack.

Jungkook laughs at you, he thinks you’re being too cute right now. He turns his head to get a look at you and he smiles.

“Okay baby.”

“And maybe don’t call me ‘baby’ in front of my parents…they will definitely get the wrong idea.”

Jungkook playfully raises a brow at you, “And what idea is that?” he teases but it goes over your head.

“Jungkook.” You groan out, “Use your head.”

“Honestly, I’m just excited to meet your parents.” Jungkook admits happily, “I wish I could have introduced you to mom.”

“…Yeah, I would have liked to have met her. She raised you really well.”

“Honestly, she would have adored you. And…dad would have really liked you too.”

You retreat your hand out of the popcorn bag and wipe your dirty fingers on your jeans, you lick the remainder off.

“What was your mom like?”

At this Jungkook beams, his smile so bright and beautiful.

“Mom was an angel. Want to know the first time I lied to her?” Jungkook asks excitedly, “And how she reacted? It was like a movie.”

“Sure.” You chuckle.

“I was in the 8th grade,” he begins but you cut him off.

“You didn’t lie until 8th grade? That’s hard to believe.”

“I was a really good kid!” he whines. “Anyway, me and two of my buddies made plans to hang out but they wanted to hang out with this group of girls…at a girls house. I didn’t know if I was allowed at a girls house…so I lied and said we were all going to a carnival.” Jungkook starts cracking up as he recalls the memory.

“Mom believed me, gave me $20 for the wrist band to have access to all the rides, you know? Well, one of my friends wasn’t allowed at a girls house so he lied and said he was going to be at a birthday party at my house. Anyway we went to the girls house and all hung out, very innocent, I swear.” He continues laughing, his eyes crinkling.

“Anyway one of the girls mom was dropping me and that buddy off at my house when we see my mom pulling up at the same time while his mom was already parked in front of my house! Oh my god it was awful.”

“Holy hell, then what happened?” you ask.

“Well, we say thanks and get out of the car and he rushes to his moms car and my cousins were outside in my front yard talking to his parents about how there was no birthday party here.”

“And then?”

“My mom asked what was going on? I said my buddy wasn’t allowed at the carnival so we lied. But then my older cousin goes ‘Where’s your wrist band at Jungkook?’ And I wanted to strangle her! How could she out me!!! So I broke down crying to my mom and told her the truth.” He laughs, then he smiles fondly. “She told me it’s okay and that she forgives me. She said it’s not a big deal to hang out at girl’s houses as long as they’re just friends and I should never lie to her again.”

“Wow, an angel indeed.” You smile at Jungkook and he catches it from the corner of his eye.

“Yeah.” He smiles back.

“Where else my mom? She would of kicked my ass.” You laugh out loud and Jungkook joins you.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

It’s a little after 8pm when you finally arrive to your childhood home, it’s nothing fancy or big or tremendous in any shape or form but hey, it’s home.

Jungkook pulls into the driveway and you notice your parents car isn’t here so you pull out your phone and call your mother.

Apparently they went to go pick up dinner for you four, but there’s a bit of a wait so they’ll be home in a little while. You tell her you understand, and remind her you still have a key.

“They’ll be home in a bit, why don’t we go inside and I can show you around?”

“Sounds good.” Jungkook has the car in park, and he’s quick to turn off the ignition. He gets out of the car and opens the back door to grab both of your suitcases.

“Jesus woman, what did you pack?” Jungkook complains.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on.” You usher him inside as you’re opening the front door.

It smells like your moms apple cinnamon candles have been lit up all day, the scent bringing you back to your childhood days. It smells like home, you can’t help but grin as you enter through.

“Let’s start by putting our stuff in our rooms!” you begin walking up the creaky stairs and Jungkook follows you with your bags in hand.

“This is your room,” you open the door to some lousy guest room but the bed is made and it smells nice. Jungkook nods while setting his suitcase down.

“And this…” you walk out and go to the room right next door, “is my room.”

Jungkook eyes go wide as he enters your room, he sees the posters on your walls, your baby pink duvet with a million pillows and the string of fairy lights above your bed and window.

“This is pre college y/n?” he asks, amused.

“Yup.”

“Oh my god, you had a boy band phase?” he touches the many posters on your wall.

“Who said I ever got out of it?” you tease.

Jungkook smiles as he observes your room, walking around slowly like he has all day. His fingers drag across your desk and all the things that occupy its space until he stops when he is touching a journal.

“A diary?” His amusement is out of the roof by now. “Let me read.” He asks with playful, pleading eyes.

“Hell to the no!” you rush to his side and grab the journal. “I don’t know what the fuck is in here.”

“Then it’s fun for both of us!” Jungkook reasons, “Let’s see what was in teenage y/n’s mind.”

“Probably lame stuff, I wasn’t very interesting.”

“I’ll see about that,” he takes the journal back and begins opening the journal and you grumble, trying to object. But in the end you let him open the journal, you wait patiently to be totally embarrassed.

“Okay this is from senior year…” he says, “Ryan wasn’t here today…” Jungkook starts laughing, “I was going to tell him I like him but it’s like the universe doesn’t want me to.” He reads out in a girly voice and you cringe. “Should I just move on?” he mocks.

“Okay, that’s enough!” you try reaching for the journal, your arms getting tangled with Jungkook’s. He can’t stop laughing as you whine out loud, your body bumping into his as your arms continue to battle one another.

“Jungkook!” you cry out, “Seriously?!”

You two continue to wrestle for the journal, spinning around until your feet tangle too much with his and he’s bumping into your bed, he falls over bringing you down with him.

You land on top of Jungkook, settling between his spread legs. The laughing and screaming absolutely stops when you find yourself in this position. Jungkook face is centimeters from yours, your breaths hot and fast and mingling together, he looks into your eyes with a troubled look. His tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip and your eyes can’t help but follow his movement.

“y/n…” he whispers out, still out of breath from playing around.

You look into his eyes again and he’s gone completely dark. His pupils start blowing out and his breaths become harsher.

“Jungkook…” You say lowly, your voice even surprising you. “Oh,” you blink at him when you feel his member hardening against your core.

Jungkook gulps, as if embarrassed. His eyes dart all around the room until they’re back on you.

“Sorry I—”

“I should get up.” You whisper.

Jungkook gulps again, his spit making his Adam’s Apple bob. “Yeah.”

But you don’t move, you continue to lay on top of him, you close your eyes as you feel his dick poking you at your center. You hate yourself but you can’t help the fact that you’re breathing deeper than usual and you really hate yourself when you grind yourself rather gently into Jungkook’s crotch.

And you really hate yourself when you hear Jungkook fucking moan. A real life moan escapes his parted lips. Your eyes shoot open to see his screwed shut. He lightly thrusts upward in response, his strained cock hitting your clit just right that you whimper out. You immediately throw your hand over your mouth and regret everything until Jungkook moans again.

Fuck, what do you do? You want to keep going and you almost do when—

“Honey! We’re home!”

You quickly scramble off Jungkook and stand to your feet. Fuck, your parents are home.

Jungkook awkwardly stands up and tries to adjust his pants so his fucking boner isn’t totally visible. He does not want to meet your parents with a fucking boner. No way in hell. He’s got to think of gross things. Diarrhea. Yeah, he will think of people shitting themselves, that’s pretty gross.

“Coming!” you yell out. You smooth down your clothes and your hair and turn to face Jungkook. “Ready?”

He smiles kind of awkwardly but nods his head yes regardless.

You two exit the bedroom and head down the stairs, your parents waiting at the bottom.

“If it isn’t my pain in the ass?” your mother’s jolly laugh fills the room as she goes in to embrace you.

“Hi mom.” You say into her neck, you can smell her sweet perfume and it reminds you of home times a million.

“You mean your miracle baby! Our miracle baby!” your dad chimes in gleefully, going in to hug both you and your mom.

“It’s a miracle she hasn’t killed me yet.” Your mother comments playfully, “Going a whole half year without seeing her mother?”

“It has been since May hasn’t it?” Your dad asks. “Too long.”

“And you must be Jungkook! The boy our daughter ditched us for on Christmas!” your mom pushes you to the side and goes in to hug Jungkook.

He stumbles back in surprise, but wraps his arms around your mother with his bunny grin plastered on his face.

“That’s me.” He laughs.

“Next time, just come here for Christmas, okay?” Your mom pouts playfully.

“Now, that’s not a bad idea.” Your father cuts in, extending his hand out for Jungkook to shake.

“Nice to meet you Mr.y/L/n.” Jungkook goes in to shake his hand with a firm hold, “and of course you too Mrs.y/L/n. “ Jungkook smiles in her direction.

“My goodness,” your mother swoons, “You’re so handsome!” then she turns to you, “He’s so handsome y/n. How haven’t you snagged him yet?”

“You two aren’t already a couple?” your father adds in.

“Mom! Dad! No!” you run a hand through your hair, “I told you already a million times on the phone, we are friends. Best friends.”

“That’s too bad…” your mom says, “I would like him for a son in law.”

“Yes, it’s too bad.” Your dad continues where she is going, “He’s got a firm handshake.”

“You guys don’t even know him.” you deadpan.

Jungkook only chuckles as he watches you interact with your parents. He wishes he had this kind of relationship with his parents but he’s glad you do.

“Are you guys ready for dinner or what?” Your mom picks up the bag of food off the entry way table and brings it to her nose, “Smells delicious.” She sings with a smile.

“Lets eat honey.” Your dad gestures your mom to the kitchen and then gives you and Jungkook a wink. “Come on kids.”

You didn’t know coming home would feel this good. Just being in the same room as your parents makes you feel whole again. Talking on the phone every week just isn’t enough.

You and Jungkook set up the table as your parents start taking the food out of the bag, they place it in the center of the table and your greedy little hands can’t help but pick at the side dishes.

“Hungry?” Jungkook teases.

“Starved.” You respond.

“Well, let’s all sit down and dig in!” Your father pulls out a chair for your mother so she can sit, ever the gentleman.

The food is delicious. You really wanted your moms home cooking but she promised you that’s for tomorrow night. You eat to your hearts content, getting so full. You’re not just full of food but full of your parents love and joy. Jungkook laughs along to your mom and dad’s stories and even shares some of his own. You guys talked about your group of friends and how you’re each others support systems.

Your parents are ecstatic to hear you have such great friends where you live, they even promise to go visit you soon so they can happily meet everyone. You agree wholeheartedly and stuff your face with more food. The night goes on like this for quite some time, everyone yawning but no one wanting to go to sleep.

“Let’s clean up and take this party to the living room.” Your mom suggests.

“I’ll clean up mom.”

“Me too.” Jungkook offers as well.

“Good kids.” Your dad says with a chuckle and heads to his designated spot (The recliner in the living room.)

“Are you having fun?” You ask Jungkook once your parents are out of the kitchen.

“I’m having a really nice time y/n.” Jungkook blushes as he answers, he fucking blushes and you feel the heat creep up your cheeks as well.

“I told you, you had nothing to be nervous about.”

“I’m still nervous, to be honest. But it feels nice actually.” He admit, his blush only deepening.

You two reach for the drying towel at the same time, your fingers brushing against his and you feel a spark of electricity.

“Sorry.” You sputter out, “You take it.”

“Okay…” Jungkook feels his face get even more red, just brushing fingers with you making him feel hot and dizzy.

“I think it’s clean enough,” you wipe your hands dry on your jeans, “Let’s go.”

The living room is as cozy as you have always remembered it to be. The recliner that your dad always falls asleep in is in the same spot as always, the two love seats taking one corner of the room and the TV on the center of the back wall. You decide to sit next to your mom on one of the love seats, you immediately drop your head on to her shoulder and breathe her in.

“What’s wrong my miracle?” she asks softly. “What’s going on?”

You suck in a sharp breath and start sniffling. Yup, you have decided on being a baby.

“I—” Your eyes immediately water and you give your mom a pathetic look, “I don’t know what I am doing with my life.”

Jungkook watches you and he frowns, he wishes he had all the answers for you.

“Oh baby,” your mom cradles your head, “I’m an old woman and even I have thoughts like that.” She laughs. “You’re going to figure it out, even if it’s not right now.”

“How do you know?” you look up at her with snot running down your nose.

“Do you remember when you were in high school you went from being in the drama club to the art club to the debate team to the…god, who knows what? You just kept jumping from one thing to another but then you finally found what you liked. Which was, swimming right?” She rubs your back soothingly, “It just takes time.” She says, “Maybe right now you’re just in the ‘art club’ part of your life. You still need to experience other clubs and teams until you find your swimming.”

“Mom…” you cry, “Thank you.”

“Your mother is right,” your dad decides to jump in “And whatever you decide we will be there cheering you on.”

Jungkook feels his heart swell. Watching you with your parents has been nothing but an amazing experience so far. He doesn’t feel bitter that he didn’t have this sort of relationship, instead he wishes he could have it even with someone like your parents.

“Now go sit with your bestie, he looks lonely over there by himself on the other couch.” Your mom scolds you lightly. You hug her tightly before letting go and walking to where Jungkook is.

You sit right next to him, not leaving any space—your knees and shoulders rubbing against one another quite innocently.

“So Jungkook,” Your father begins, “tell us about your family.”

You feel yourself go tense at the mention of Jungkook’s family. What will he say? Or will he say anything at all? “Mom’s not with us anymore.” He smiles softly, “And I don’t talk to my dad.”

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry,” your mom places a hand over her heart.

“Sorry to hear about that, son.” Your dad shares a look of pity with your mom.

Jungkook on the other hand lights up when he hears your dad call him ‘son’.

“It’s okay.” Jungkook smiles, “I have y/n and Jimin and the rest of the guys.”

“And you have us too, sweetie.” Your mom cuts in. “We were serious about Christmas, why don’t you two come here?”

“Mom—”

“I’d like that.” Jungkook looks at your for approval, “It sounds nice, right y/n?”

You feel your heart begin to glow.

“Yeah.” You yawn out. “It does.” You lay your head on his shoulder and he wraps an arm around your waist. You miss the way your parents share a knowing look as they watch you two.

“We weren’t supposed to have any children…” Your mom starts to say, “She really was our little miracle.” She comes down into a whisper as she notices you starting to doze off.

“She’s our pride and joy.” Your father beams.

“I’m glad she isn’t lonely. Growing up, we were so worried she would become a lonely only child, but she had lots of cousins thankfully and she always had it easy when making friends.” Your mother smiles as she recalls little you.

“She’s so special, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook looks down at your sleeping face, he smiles shyly and caresses your cheek. “She is.”

Your parents share another knowing look and grin.

“When did you realize she was so special?” your father crosses a leg over the other.

“About the time she ditched you guys for me.” Jungkook’s looks at them and smiles cheekily.

Your mother and father laugh loudly, waking you from your quick nap.

“What’s so funny?” you ask groggily, you kind of drooled on yourself and Jungkook’s shoulder. You wipe at the corner of your mouth and mutter an apology to Jungkook for wetting his shirt. He only giggles at you and pats your head.

“Maybe you two should head to bed for some rest, hm?”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

You and Jungkook agree with your parents, standing from your place on the love seat and say your goodnight’s.

“Goodnight sweetie.” Your dad goes in to hug you, “Sleep well.”

“Night dad, night mom.”

“Goodnight Mr. and Mrs. y/l/n.”

“Night kiddos.”

Jungkook follows you up the stairs as he enters deep thought mode. He has only spent one day with you and your parents but he feels like he has fallen in love all over again. His love for you deepening by the minute, the way it blossoms like a beautiful, enchanted flower. The petals are bright, colorful and full of life. Nothing, he means nothing can shrivel up this rose. It is enchanted after all.

You stand outside your door, waiting for Jungkook to finish his journey up the stairs. When he finally makes it to the top he walks to you, standing outside your bedroom door.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You whisper out, a blush painting itself on your cheeks.

“Tonight was nice.” He says instead of ‘goodnight’.

“Yeah, I think my parents like you a lot.”

“And I like them a lot. I felt…so…at home.” He admits, his soft breath hitting your lips and you breathe out heavily.

“I’m glad.”

“I like you when you’re with your parents.”

“You like me?” You tease, and Jungkook goes as red as a fucking tomato.

“Like, like—”

“Chill, I know what you mean.”

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck and huffs out, “Right.”

“I like you around my parents too.” You lean back on the bedroom door, and Jungkook steps closer to you.

“You like me?” he teases back and you blush even harder.

“I just mean, it’s cute seeing you nervous and flustered for once.” You say.

“I’m cute?” Jungkook takes another step towards you, backing you even further into the door.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I though?” he leans his head towards your face, his lips hovering over your left ear and he whispers…

“I won’t tell anyone you find me cute y/n.” he continues his teasing. He leans back and watches as your face goes unbelievably red.

“Shush.” You push his hard chest back and he darkly chuckles. “It’s not like you don’t find me cute as well.”

“Oh baby, I find you very, very cute” he leans in again and you scoff, giggling to yourself.

Jungkook chuckles as well, he feels himself growing hotter by the second, he pushes you back more into the door and he reaches for the doorknob and opens it, but catches you from falling inside.

“Let’s go inside.” He says lowly. “Wanna keep being with you.”

“Jungkook,” you whine, “I’m sleepy.”

“I can watch you sleep.” He teases and you cringe.

“That’s creepy!” you laugh, you two set foot inside the room and you close the door behind you guys. “But maybe we can chat for a little bit.”

“Hey!” Jungkook juts his lip out, “It’s not creepy, I just really—” love you, he wants to say. But he doesn’t have the courage but god, Jimin is right. When will he have the courage?

“Really what?” you ask innocently.

“It’s nothing.” He says. “Anyway, let’s sit.” He plops his fine ass on the edge of your childhood bed—a twin bed. You sit down next to him and you lean back until your back is laying against the soft mattress. Jungkook follows you, laying down as well.

“Thanks for making me feel like I’m a part of your family y/n.”

“You are a part of my family Jungkook.” You whisper to him and he flips on his side to get a look at your face.

“Your parents are awesome.” He chuckles.

You playfully roll your eyes and smile, “Yeah, they’re something.”

“They want you to bring home a boyfriend.”

“Too bad all they got is you.”

“Yeah, too bad.” Jungkook grins at you, he lifts his hand to your face and caresses your cheek. “You’re so pretty. I wasn’t lying…I do find you very, very cute” he says softly and you fucking melt. You sigh out and he leans in closer, you aren’t entirely sure but it feels like he’s about to kiss you.

He leans in so close until he’s raising his face just a bit and he kisses the top of your forehead.

“I think I’ll go to bed now.” He whispers.

“Wait—” You grab on to the material of his sweater, accidentally bringing him too close to you, his mouth bumping into yours.

You immediately begin to panic, your eyes shoot to Jungkook’s and he looks as surprised as you. He is silent for far too many moments until his eyes crinkle and he’s laughing, his bunny teeth on full display.

“Oops.” He says, still laughing.

“I am so sorry, oh my god.” You get up slightly, leaning on your elbows. “That was an accident.”

“Well,” Jungkook brings his fingers to his lips, “It’s not the worst thing that could happen.” He says, his shy tone making you melt all over again.

“Sorry again, wow.”

Jungkook stands from the bed and you follow his lead, walking him towards the bedroom door.

“Goodnight Jungkook.”

This is it. The moment Jimin was talking about. A moment where he can have courage.

“y/n…I just…can I tell you something…?”

“What is it?” you raise a curious brow.

Jungkook looks into your eyes for several moments, taking long, deep breaths.

“I love you.” He finally admits, after years of keeping that to himself he finally told you he loves you. He loves you with all his fucking heart, he loves you more than anyone else in his entire life. He loves you. This? This is courage.

“Huh? I love you too, JK.” You give him a weird look and laugh. “Goodnight.” And you shut the door.

“No, I…”

Was he not clear?

“I love you y/n…” he whispers to himself, “Like, really really love you.” He says to no one but the ghosts that haunt this house.

“Goodnight y/n.”

[retrievablememories]

love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

--

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him. 

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest. 

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do. 

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

--

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

--

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them. 

--

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 28.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings In This Chapter: Use Of A Sex Toy, Lactation Kink, Degradation, Daddy Kink, Begging, Sex Over A Desk, Bratty!OC, Dom!Yoongi, Mentions Of The Color System, Sex Against A Window, Exhibitionism, Praise, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie, Insecure!Yoongi

A/N: I’m back from vacation. Here is your weekly dose of Yoongles. Also big ups to my ladies @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna​. Love yall.

Why do people even get married? If you had it your way you would just get married at City Hall with your parents and best friends. But getting married to a CEO is never that easy. Combine that with your raging hormones, sore back and ankles, and your overbearing, over the top best friend… it's all a bit much to handle. Not to mention now that everyone knows who you are, you have eyes on you at all times.

Although, you know how happy Yoongi is about all of this. You can see how he radiates joy with each step as you walk hand in hand together out in public. That pretty much makes it all worth it.

"I'm allergic to coconut," Yoongi breathes out, pushing the plate of wedding cake in front of him away.

You hum in agreement, leaning back into the plush armchair.

"They're all so good, I don't know what to pick." you say truthfully, looking over the multitude of wedding cake samples that are spread across the exorbitantly large dining room table.

"Well, you have… twenty minutes to figure it out." Leena notifies you from the other end of the room.

"You know, you're like a drill sergeant or something," you murmur.

You can hear Yoongi's gentle snigger when she narrows her eyes at you. "My perfect, amazing, gorgeous best friend is only getting married once. It has to be the event of a lifetime. So strap in and call me General Matrimony."

"Hear, hear." your fiance agrees smothering your cheek with a kiss.

"In my opinion the double chocolate fudge with marshmallow Swiss buttercream is the best." Leena decides, pointing to the cake in the middle of the table.

"Too sweet." you and the CEO reply at the same time.

She sneers at your combined cuteness.

"Are we trying to be disgustingly decadent or classy?" Yoongi quips to you, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

Leaning your temple against him, your cheeks puff out in thought. "Disgustingly classy?"

Leena points at you with her gold pen. "Love that."

The CEO snorts loudly, running the tip of his nose over your temple.

"If we're being disgustingly classy, we should do the chocolate chiffon cake with the light white raspberry filling." you announce, pointing at the cake in front of you.

"That was really good," Yoongi agrees, planting his hand on your protruding stomach.

Leena looks up at you over her clipboard impressed. "If I knew you were gonna turn into some hoity toity queen, Miss Thing -- I would have shoved you at Yoongi a long time ago." she jeers.

You roll your eyes with a laugh before wincing at a kick that's just a bit too tender on the ribs.

"Honggi. Relax, buddy." Yoongi mutters in your direction.

You had decided on a name last night. It honestly didn't take you long at all. You and your fiance are always on the same page.

Honggi is a powerful name and Yoongi's son should have that prowess and power behind him.

Yoongi came to love the simple word almost immediately and even when you were drifting off to sleep, you could hear the CEO murmuring semblances of the name.

When Leena looks over you both, her sharp and intense features begin to soften. "God, you guys are cute. It's fucking disgusting." she whines, sipping her champagne.

Shaking his head with a laugh your soon-to-be husband seems to agree. "I'm not the one who brings the cuteness here." he chirps, running his thumb in loving strokes over your distended skin.

Leena gives you a moment or two to calm down before hardening her gaze and tapping the famed clipboard with her pen. "Floral arrangements, come on folks! We don't have time!"

"Wedding tyrant." Yoongi breathes playfully, earning a snort from you.

"Good morning, Sir." Shea calls to Yoongi as he gets out of the elevator.

"Hey, Shea. Mornin'." the CEO mutters, running his fingers through his perfectly styled hair.

It was no secret that after the unfortunate incident with his mother, you started to despise Kira. You never said anything of course, you were too kind for that. But Yoongi knew, he always knows. So he did what he thought was best and let her go. He did however give her a gigantic 'keep quiet' sum of money as well as having her sign a NDA. He wasn't about to let the woman that's kept him company many times throughout many years go blabbering at the mouth due to being disgruntled.

"You have two meetings today and then after lunch you have a few contracts to sign." Shea explains.

Yoongi likes that she's strictly business. And more importantly, she doesn't look at him like he's a piece of meat on sale at the butchers.

"Thanks." he breathes, picking up his coffee from the reception desk.

"Oh! And your fiance called!" she beams.

He knows she's a fan of your artwork and just the mention of you has both of them smiling like idiots. Nothing like simping to start off the day.

"Oh? Is she okay?" he inquires, pulling out his phone.

"She said she's bringing you lunch, so don't eat." Shea instructs.

He hums thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I'm pretty lucky. Huh?" he quips, heading towards his office.

The day goes by slower and slower with each passing minute. He equates it to being away from you and his son if he's being honest.

The meetings are all the same. Boring and tedious with glasses of whisky to take the boredom even slightly away.

The old men that seem to run the company beneath him have more to say about the project managers than their own jobs. It's almost baffling.

But when Yoongi gets the solace of being in his exorbitantly large office again on his own, he finds peace there.

Shea wasn't too forthcoming with just how many contracts he has to sign and the stack of them on his desk makes his eye twitch.

"God, when is lunch?" he breathes, turning around in his large chair to look at the sonogram painting of his son you so artfully created.

Digging into his suit pocket, he looks for the trusty gold pen he uses to sign documents -- but he feels something else first. It's small, fitting in his palm and his eyebrows furrow. When he pulls it out, he can't say he isn't confused.

You did pick out his suit this morning, much like you do every morning but he's never had a remote in his pocket before.

Picking up his phone, he's immediately intrigued.

The phone rings loudly in his ear and suddenly he's forgotten all about work.

"Hello?"

"Little dove." his voice sounds confused and playful at best.

He examines the small black remote, having no idea what on Earth it's for.

"Yeah?" you quip back.

"I found a remote in my pocket. Any idea why?" he prods, his eyebrows flickering up expectantly.

The hum of uncertainty you give makes him all the more curious.

"No. Why is there a remote in your pocket? Did you take the garage remote instead of your car key?" you inquire.

It's simply ridiculous but now he's questioning himself. "What? No! Then how would I have gotten to work?"

He presses the 'On' button and flips it over in his hand expectantly.

"Oh God," you whisper softly.

"You okay? Is Honggi kicking a lot?" Yoongi asks, putting down the remote to give you his full attention.

"N-No. I was just surprised. I'm in the car, now on my way over to your office."

Your voice sounds breathless and strange all at once and for the first time… probably ever -- Yoongi doesn't take it sexually. "You better tell Minho to be careful driving, you hear me?"

"Mhm." you gasp softly.

"Well if you didn't put this thing in my pocket, I don't know how it got here then." Yoongi murmurs, pushing more buttons on it curiously.

"Oh my God, Minho drive faster!" you squeak out.

The CEO is completely at odds with what's happening. "You alright?" he inquires curiously.

"I just really need to… pee." you babble.

You sound dazed and lost, even needy all of a sudden.

"I'm sure. Honggi is getting big." your fiance agrees, drawing imperfect shapes on his desk with the tip of his finger.

"I'm here. I'll be right up, Daddy." you whimper, hanging up on him.

He pulls the phone away from his ear, eyebrows completely furrowing. "What's wrong with her?" he bleats.

He's signed a total of three documents by the time you make it upstairs.

Just hearing your sweet voice interacting with Shea in the far distance sends his heart absolutely pounding with excitement. Seeing you sometimes gives him the adrenaline of bungee jumping or cliff diving.

When the doors of his office burst open, he can't help the gummy smile that spreads over his features.

He takes in your attire and suddenly he's confused. You're wearing a stylish black trench coat that flourishes out at the bottom, but he can't see the dress you're wearing beneath it.

"What dress are you wearing that doesn't cover your mid thighs?" he asks, pushing back his desk chair to stand up tall.

Your fingers are shaking and you hurriedly slam the door shut. When you lock the both of you inside his large office, he knows something is weird.

"Y/N?"

Turning around to him with your back flush to the door, he can see how colored your cheeks are. Your lips are parted like your gasping for breath and your eyes are low with lustful intentions.

He finds something in his gut stirring at the sight of you.

"Baby? You okay?" he prods, rounding his desk.

Your fingers fumble with the belt around your belly which keeps the trenchcoat in place.

It's almost amusing how flustered you are.

You don't seem to be in any pain and Yoongi takes this all in as strange.

He leans back against the desk, waiting patiently for you to reply.

"I'm fine!" you assure him, shoving open the coat.

If his eyes could widen any larger, they'd probably pop out of his head.

You stand before him, scantily clad in thin, lace lingerie.

"Baby!" he gawks, rushing towards you to cover you up.

He can't help the way his cock begins to stir below the belt at the sight of you.

"What're you doing?" he hisses, gripping both sides of the trench coat.

You whimper gently, hooking your hand around his neck to pull him down to your height. He allows you to kiss him, he can feel the fervent need coming from your lips. His hands slowly slide from the coat to beneath it, feeling the soft skin of your belly.

"Want you," you gasp, pulling one of his hands between your thighs.

He can feel the vibrations against his fingertips and it all makes sense now. He groans loudly, pulling you back in for a fierce and passionate kiss.

His teeth nibble gently at your bottom lip and in all honesty, he's astounded by your forwardness. It's rare to see you like this but when your hormones are raging and in charge of your brain… who is he to stop you?

"You naughty little dove." he jeers, pulling you towards his desk.

"What's got you so playful today?" he inquires, pushing the multitude of contract folders aside.

He helps you up onto the desk, spreading your legs with a wanton groan.

The clit and g-spot vibrating sex toy you had recently spoken about sits between your sodden pussy lips. Yoongi can see how wet you are through the thin lingerie and it makes his heart beat faster at the sight.

"Just wanted to," you whimper, spreading your legs wider.

Stepping between your limbs, his hands can't seem to separate from your soft skin. Reluctantly, he leaves your belly to tug down the cups of your bra. Your breasts spring out, swaying and dribbling milk languidly.

"You're leaking milk in public, like a little cum slut."

His dominance is overwhelming to your senses and you can only nod fervently in agreement.

"I'm your cum slut. I'm yours." you babble, wrapping your hand around his tie and pulling him towards you.

It's not like this extreme horniness has come from nowhere. In fact, you've been in pain from kicks and punches from your growing son for a week or so now and the one day you don't feel any pain at all -- the most pressing horniness you've ever felt has overcome you.

His lips are soft and warm against yours. They draw you in like a fly to honey and you're enraptured with the man you're in love with.

"I never thought you'd turn up at my office like this, little dove." Yoongi murmurs, pressing soft kisses to the column of your neck.

"I'm so horny, I'm going to pass out!" you complain, reaching for his belt.

He can hear the sheer neediness in your voice and it sends him into overdrive.

"I'll take care of you, baby girl. Don't worry." he assures you, cupping your breasts and gingerly swiping his thumbs across your leaking nipples until you're sobbing with relief.

"D-Daddy!" you whine, unbuckling his belt.

The way your voice peaks makes his eyes immediately rise to the double doors of his office.

"You're gonna have to be a little quieter for me, babe. I'm at work." he murmurs, kissing your lips softly.

You whimper, giving him an understanding nod.

"Good girl," your fiance praises, wrapping his lips around your nipple.

Your hand cups your mouth when you gasp loudly. Shaking like a leaf, your body is quite literally vibrating with sexual need.

He sighs gently against you, adoring you for all you're worth. One hand pinches and rolls your forsaken nipple while the other caresses your stomach.

The vibrating with you seems to only get faster and you're so stimulated that fat tears of pleasure begin to roll down your cheeks.

"Feels good, little dove?" Yoongi coos around your nipple, enmeshing his fingers into the sides of your underwear. In mere seconds it becomes strings in his hands. He groans against your skin gently, tucking your destroyed undergarments into his suit pants pocket.

"S-So good! Fuck," you moan, shoving down his pants.

The sight before you has you licking your lips expectantly. His cock is already throbbing with need and it's a welcome sight.

One thing you can always count on with Yoongi is his complete and utter patience when it comes to pleasing you. His cock could be fucking purple with need and he would still take his time making sure you're satisfied first.

His fingers run over the smooth silicon of the sex toy and he shivers visibly at the vibrations. "How's it feel, baby? You like the new toy?" he inquires, kissing over the valley of your breasts.

You hum in agreement, lifting your hips slightly begging him to touch you.

You can feel your veins coursing with white hot pleasure, it feels like electricity firing through every pore in your body.

When his fingers slide over your opening, he can't help but choke on a moan. "God, your cunt is soaked. Shit." he curses, dipping a finger into your heat.

"You're gaping for my cock, Jesus Christ." he breathes out.

Yoongi knows he probably isn't going to last long. It's been awhile since you've fucked and his hand is nothing compared to being inside of you. Combine that with the new vibrator inside you, it's definitely going to be a tough feat.

"Fuck me over the desk like an animal!" you beg of your soon-to-be husband.

His eyes seem to widen at your forwardness but he can't say he doesn't love it.

"Anything for you, baby girl."

Your whimpers of anticipation have his bottom lip tucking tightly between his teeth.

"How'd I get so lucky to have such a gorgeous woman as my wife? Huh?" he whispers, running his hands over your back and sides.

You don't answer him, only pushing your hips back and wiggling your ass to show just how needy you are.

"I'm coming baby, relax." he promises, palming both globes of your ass in hand.

Your breathing is shallow and your mind is swimming as you wait for him. The vibrations against your most sensitive parts feel so amazing, so raw but it's not enough -- you want his consent to cum. You need it.

Yoongi picks up the small remote, testing the speeds and he realizes which you like more depending on your breathing and small moans. He's toying with you right now, enjoying the obscene amounts of arousal dripping down your soft, fleshy thighs.

His eyes are focused on your cunt, watching from behind as it twitches and spasms around the small device inside of you.

"Daddy, please!" you whine, lifting your head to look back at him.

When you do look back, you see his cock flat on his palm. He pumps it in hand a few times, cursing gently at the sight before him.

"Aren't you just a pretty little pregnant whore for me?" he quips, running his hand from your back to cup your stomach.

The weight of your belly in his hand has him almost in a frenzy then. Pressing the weeping head of his cock to your entrance, his lips press into a thin, hard line when he feels the vibrating sensations flow through him.

"Oh fuck," he hisses softly, letting his eyes flutter shut.

"Yes!" you breathe out, pushing back to welcome him into your swollen cunt.

He groans then, welcoming your warm heat around him inch by inch.

"Feels so fucking good, baby girl. Jesus." he moans, taking a moment  for you to adjust to his size.

Grabbing the remote once more, he turns it onto the fastest speed and the gasps you collectively emit seem to sound like they're all around you.

He's forgotten he's at work, he's forgotten what he's supposed to be doing because the most important thing right now is you -- and your swollen, greedy sex is all he needs.

With the pleasurable vibrations added, all Yoongi wants to do is fuck you so hard that you'll both cum and be pleased in minutes. But he's never been the type to leave a sexual experience so early.

Folding over, his chest presses to your back and his fingers intertwine with yours.

His lips feel like heaven against your warm, flushed skin. He suckles small marks against the side of your throat, coloring you as his own.

His thrusts are hard and filling but slow. He'd give anything to hear skin slapping against skin right now but then he's reminded that he's at work.

Your hands grip harder onto the edge of the desk as you rut back against him.

"Your cock is so big," you whine, closing your eyes to become enraptured in the whole experience.

"Yeah? You like my big cock in this pregnant cunt?"

You nod fervently, trying to bite back the loud moans that threaten to tear past your lips. It's all too much and suddenly your orgasm is approaching like a rapid waterfall.

"Don't you dare," your fiance threatens, lifting himself up and gripping the back of your neck.

"Please Daddy. Need to cum," you beg, feeling your body quake with the ever pressing need of relief.

"Oh no, I don't think so. You show up to my office, you wait until I say you can cum."

You whine in defiance, pushing your hips back against him harder and he's surprised at your brattiness.

"Don't you dare cum." he warns you.

Your eyebrows furrow with need and you couldn't care about the punishment you're going to recieve. You're honestly not sure what's come over you, you've never defied him before but right now it's getting you more excited to not listen to him.

Pushing past the control of his orgasms, you lose yourself on his cock. Your high is filled with galactic stars behind your eyelids and white noise filled ears.

"You brat," he gasps, pulling out of you.

It's a smug grin the spreads over your face now before your cringing at the overstimulation of the sex toy. He takes pity on you in that regard, shutting the toy off and pulling it out of you. Tossing it onto his desk, he points his finger in your direction. "You're in trouble." he breathes out, jerking his hard cock in hand.

Now that you've arrived back down to Earth, you're worried. You've never defied him before and you've never seen his wrath.

"You just woke up a brat today, didn't you?" he seethes, helping you stand back upright.

You pout, shaking your head quickly in hopes that he won't be too strict on you. His narrowed eyes chill you to the bone.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I just couldn't help cumming. I was so horny. I'm sorry," you apologize profusely, running your hands over his clothed chest.

He hums unimpressed, combing his fingers through his hair.

"If only people knew what a cumwhore I have on my hands." he murmurs through his teeth.

You frown up at him, begging him to forgive you with puppy dog-like eyes.

"No. You don't get away with being a brat that easily," he deadpans.

Nodding to the large floor to ceiling windows, he taps his foot incessantly.

"Go stand by the window." he orders.

You look down at your naked body before looking back up at him in confusion.

"Wh-"

"What's your color?" he cuts you off, running his hand over your belly.

"G-Green," you chirp out, looking at the window.

"Then go stand up against the window." he instructs, beginning to stroke his cock once more.

"Why?" you inquire curiously, doing as told.

"So people can see what a cumwhore I have on my hands," he whispers into your ear. The heat of his breath has something unfurling inside of you once more.

Bracing your hands against the window, you turn back to look at him just in time to see him situating the vibrator between his fingers.

The quiet thrumming of the sex toy makes your breath hitch with anticipation.

"Spread your legs," your fiance commands, pressing his chest flush to your back.

You're so high up you're almost certain no one could see you but excitement still courses through you.

His hands wrap around you like strong chains and you hum in appreciation.

"I love you," you remind him, turning and kissing his cheek.

He softens at your words, kissing over your shoulder with his plush lips. "I love you too, brat." he murmurs.

His words make you snort gently but it's quickly cut off by a loud gasp. He presses his hand to your swollen clit and the smug grin he gives you sends a chill through your spine.

Your forehead presses to the chilly glass of the window and you mewl as his legs knock yours open farther.

His cock slides between your sodden folds a few times before entering back inside of you.

"Oh my God," you whine, backing your hips up to him.

"Pretty little thing," he praises, kissing over your neck. "What do you think, little dove? You think people can see me fucking your pregnant cunt from all the way down there?"

His thrusts become rougher and harder, cursing all the while.

The vibrations that ricochet through you are once again pushing you towards the edge at a surprisingly rapid pace.

"Don't even," he seethes, feeling how your cunt trembles around him.

His grunts and the sweet whispers of your name enrapture your ears.

The sight that greets Yoongi's eyes could make him almost blow his load in that very second.

"Your milk is leaking onto the glass, oh fuck." he whimpers, fucking into you harder and faster.

"Gonna cum!" you cry to him, scratching your nails against the window.

He doesn't even respond, chasing his own high as your cunt threatens to milk him for all he's worth.

"Oh little dove!" he gasps.

His thrusts become sloppier and his breath hitches at the prospect of cumming inside of you.

"Yoongi, please!" you beg, spreading your legs wider.

"You think you deserve it?" he quips, running his hand over your belly bump.

"Yes," you whimper, pushing back against him with each thrust.

"Cum." he commands, pressing his forehead into the junction between your neck and should.

He holds you up easily as you orgasm around him. You become a blubbering mess, crying out his name softly like a prayer.

"God, I love you." he seethes through his teeth.

His teeth clench down on his bottom lip as he cums, trying to quiet his final moans.

You both stay like this for a few minutes, just enjoying each other's company.

"Are you upset with me?" Yoong inquires, pulling out of you slowly.

Your eyebrows furrow at his worried tone. "Huh? Not at all, why?"

"You never act bratty or defy me… Did I do something wrong?"

You've spoken about this before actually. Yoongi is prideful when it comes to your sub slash dom relationship. He beams with satisfaction knowing that he keeps you so pleased you don't act out of character. For you to have been just the slightest bit bratty, it probably shook up his confidence.

"No, it's just my hormones I think, I wanted to be a little sassy," you explain, sitting down on his lap when he beckons you.

He hums unsurely, hooking his chin over your shoulder. "I'm a good dom to you when we have sex, right?" he asks, kissing your temple.

"Always. You always make me feel safe and dominated," you promise, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He breathes a sigh of relief, looking down at the sex toy tossed casual aside on his desk. "Felt good," he murmurs, running his hands over your sides.

You give him a large smile, nodding in agreement. He can't help but snort at your joyful expression.

"Well regardless of your bratty hormones, I'm happy you came to distract me from my work." your fiance murmurs, pulling the cups of your bra back up.

"You're always happy to be distracted from work." you quip, combing your fingers through his hair.

He nods thoughtfully, letting his fingertips graze over your outer thigh. "Very true." he beams, kissing your shoulder.

When your skin begins to raise with goosebumps, he's quick to cover you with the trenchcoat you discarded a while ago in your sudden heat of passion.

It's your stomach that rumbles first with the need for food and sustenance before he acts accordingly also.

"Oh yeah, where's the lunch you promised me?" the CEO inquires, tying the belt of your coat back in place.

"I gave it to you." you reply with a wide smile.

He looks over at the window before shaking his head with a laugh. "Alright, that's it. Get your pretty butt to the car, I'm taking us home for lunch."

Just talking about food in general has you jumping up with excitement. "Are you coming back to work after?" you prod, watching as he pulls up his boxers and suit pants.

"Nah, I'll just take the contracts home with me now so I don't have to come back. Besides, I didn't correct your errant behavior like I wanted too." he whispers, pecking your lips softly.

Leaning back on the desk, your head begins to tilt. "Well, you should get all your punishment in before six. Leena is coming over to discuss place settings for the wedding."

He groans gently, fixing his suit jacket until it looks seemingly pristine. "Why are you best friends with a tyrant? Remind me again?"

Your giggle echoes through the large office and he adores the sound, it courses through him like new life.

Scooping up the contract folders, he looks over to the window before smiling to himself. "Y'know I'm never cleaning my window again, right?" he quips, watching as you pull open the doors to his office.

"That's disgusting," you quip back, holding out your engagement hand so he can hold it.

Kissing the top of your head, he laughs. "Yeah, I am."

Next Chapter ------>

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Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

[angelguk]

so much happens in this it’s such a huge mess omg. the return of the angst plot line of jock!jk (aka pretty boy universe please check ml for the other parts). this time featuring: Angst (with a capital A), miscommunication that makes you want to scream, chayoung’s true nature, namjoon catching stray bullets (figuratively), and lucas being a gem. also jungkook is somewhat semi-violent in this one (in terms of thoughts and some actions but no one gets hurt) so please don’t read this if that makes you uncomfortable. in general just an angry heartbroken boy. also oc is finally doing something good. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams + if we were made of water by banks + i will by mitksi + save room for us by tinashe. roughly 4.2k

titled — old friends, new foes

The spring scavenger hunt is an enormous success, all thanks to your careful planning and Bina’s much needed support. While you excelled at organising, you heavily lacked in the social aspect, something Bina fulfilled with smart marketing and a bright personality that drew in a larger crowd than you thought would appear. It's partially expected–she was head of the Events Committee for a reason–but it felt a little strange to lean onto her instead of Jeongguk. He was the one who usually spearheaded that side of your event plans, more than anyone else, and while planning this one you felt his absence tenfold. Like a gigantic gaping hole excavating through your chest and leaving behind a lonely hollow.

That hollowness surges when you spot him meandering towards the third location at the university courtyard, his fingers tangled with Hyeri’s. You slowly turn away from them, heart aching with each thud against your ribs, hoping they haven’t seen you. Maybe Bina sees the fall on your features because she’s gently tapping your arm, leaning in with a graceful brush of her amber locks over her shoulder.  

“Are you okay?” Her voice is soft, feathering through the late afternoon breeze to reach your ear. 

You’re about to say it, the pained ‘I’m fine' that had become a part of your routine. But then you hear him, loud effervescent laugh hitting the air, the sound striking your false demeanour down. Your vision blurs before you could choke the word out and suddenly Bina’s arm is firmly around you, guiding your heavy feet far away from the presence evoking your pain. 

“I’m fine,” you finally manage to choke up, folding into yourself in the middle of a bench. She stares at you for a moment, before taking a deep breath and sharply clicking her tongue.

“You’re not.” Her eyes are gentle despite the harshness of her words. “I know this isn’t my place, but I do know why you stopped coming to committee meetings.” 

The scoff you let out is instinctive. The jarring sound is a stark contrast to the action of your hand hurriedly wiping away the stray tears staining your cheeks. Of course, you’d avoided committee meetings – why the hell would you go when the president was your ex?

“And,” Bina continues, pointedly ignoring your reaction. Her hand reaches out moving to intertwine your fingers. You focus on the image of her sharp stiletto shaped nails that glitter under the glow of the sun settling on your lap instead of the thumping of your heart as she speaks. “Judging from what I’ve seen, it hasn’t been easy for him either. I know you’re probably thinking that you were the only one who cared about him–about your relationship, but I’m pretty sure he did too. So it’s perfectly okay for you to feel like this, no matter how long it’s been.”

Two months and three weeks, you mentally add. A lifetime and a single blink simultaneously. 

“I didn’t need to know that,” you say, hoping to kill the hope fluttering in your heart. Bina squeezes your hand instead and gives it wings.

“You did. Also, Jeongguk’s kind of an asshole. Sorry if it’s too soon.”

It’s not, and you can’t help the tiny laugh that escapes from your throat. You glance up at her then, suddenly glad for the dazzling glossed coated smile that greets you.

“But,” she continues. “You’re doing the wrong thing too. I know you’re dating Lucas and it’s not fair to him when you’re still hung up on Jeongguk.”

“I know,” you admit. “And I’m going to fix that.”

She beams. “I hope you do. Don’t let him make you pick the wrong choices. You deserve better than that.”

Perhaps it was her words of reassurance that aided in getting you out of the house tonight. (Or it was Bina gingerly whacking your arm and insisting you needed to reward yourself for working hard). But a minuscule part of you is glad you heeded her advice. The music is louder than the words bouncing around your head, sound shoving your sorrow down as Chayoung hands you another drink. Everything is fast, bodies shifting wildly around you and the faint sound of a beer pong game capturing everyone’s attention. For a moment, you begin to forget. But then Lucas’s looming head materializes before you and guilt swarms your heart.

“Hey,” he offers, deep timbre sinking into your bones. You might just throw up.

You haven’t told him about Namjoon. You can’t bear to. But there’s something else more urgent that you need to say to him first.

Chayoung watches through narrow eyes when he leans forward to brush a light kiss on your cheek. He’s so sweet it makes your mouth turn sour. 

“Haven’t seen you around,” Lucas continues, slipping beside you. A steady hand settles at the base of your back. You almost jolt away. 

Chayoung’s face is hard, expression carved out of marble as she stares you down. You know she’s mad at you, rightfully so. Even Sieun hadn’t said anything for a few days after you’d told them about Namjoon. You were mad at yourself too. For what you did–for what you need to do to fix it.

“Been busy. Planning the scavenger hunt and all,” you say, gaze glued to a random lamp at the opposite side of the room. It’s easier than staring at Lucas, who’s still so warm and bright. Practically glowing like he’s got the Sun living in his chest. 

You hope you don’t leave him cloudy.

He weaves his hand into yours, a pleasant noise escaping past his lips. “I know. Great job, by the way. You should be proud.”

Chayoung slinks away at that, the glower on her features burning your blood. You haven’t told anybody yet because you don’t want their advice on this. But you do need to end things with Lucas. It wasn’t fair to him. Yet, it feels nearly impossible when you tear your eyes off the fading figure of your friend and glance up to find him staring at you with the softest smile.

All you do is hurt good people. 

It’s a terrible realisation but it forces you to croak out the words, a rip forming inside of you when that soft smile slips off his face at the sound of them.

“We need to talk.”

But the second they are out you feel something in the world click into place like you’re finally making the right steps toward the correct path even though you need to step on the hearts of others to get there. 

Lucas lets you lead him in silence, the weight of it sinking onto your shoulders when he closes the door behind him, the music giving way to the noise in your head. When he turns to face you, watching apprehensively as you perch yourself at the edge of the bed in the room, it all begins to feel like deja vu. Except you’re on the other side.

“So,” you start, eyes on the wall. The feeling of the mattress dipping as Lucas descends beside you pulls your gaze back to him, heartstrings thrumming when the moonlight leaking through the opened curtains pools into his eyes.

How could Jeongguk have done this?

“We need to end this,” you say, realising as the air leaves your lungs that he did it like this. Like he needed to breath. It feels like cutting an anchor off your ankle, head breaking through furious waters to finally find air.

Lucas pauses, blinking slow. You don’t fill the emptiness with more words, afraid you’ll pour salt into an open wound. He lets what you said ruminate, eyes shifting to the scene around you. A random room, bathed by the glow of the room, and two hearts opposing each other–one already poised to leave. One that was never really there.

“Why?” It’s said lowly. You know why. You owe him this admission, after dragging him around on a sinking ship. But the words refuse to part from your throat. 

“I’m not right for you,” you say instead, hoping he understands. By the flicker across his eyes, he doesn’t. “Like,” you try, your eyes dropping to where his heart lies. “You’ve got a lot of good in you and I don’t. We don’t match.”

Lucas cocks his head, staring at the ceiling. And this his gaze careens to you.

“You don’t think you’re a good person?”

“Well–” you splutter. But Lucas isn’t having it.

“You’re a lovely person, Y/N. With a lot of good in you too. You are kind of shitty for this though but every good person does shitty things.” It’s said factually like he needs you to understand this.

“I know that–”

“You don’t. You put yourself down too much. Why do you think Jeongguk loved you?”

Oh. That seizes that air from your chest, Lucas’s gaze slamming into your own with a surety that stings. 

“Why do you think I like you?” He adds. You don’t know what to do, nervous system spazzing at this information assault. “And I know why you want to end this. You could have said it. I understand, though. The two of you did fight together so well.” He gets up then, towering like a God dictating judgment. “I didn’t expect you to stop loving him immediately, you know.” He’s near the door now, not fleeing but parting a new path. There’s a weird smile on his lips, like the forging of his steps hurts as much yours does. It’s like it’s been hung there, not pulled from his heart like you’d grown used to seeing. 

“What did you expect?” You can’t help but ask.

He pauses, the door half-open. You could tell him to shut it, you could tell him to stay. 

You don’t want to.

“That maybe one day you would love me more than you loved him,” Lucas whispers. He sees the fall on your features, knows the answer on your lips instantly. “But it’s okay that you never could.”

And then he’s gone, honey blonde hair swallowed by the crowd even with his impossible height. He leaves the door ajar, the music seeping into the room. But this time your head is louder, surer. Because Lucas just let you know something you weren’t even aware of yourself. There was no room for anybody else except Jeongguk. And it truly wasn’t fair to offer him your heart when it was half a world away.

—

Half a world away is apparently glaring at the shrubs flanking the back garden. Jeongguk doesn’t know who’s house this is. He doesn’t care either because at the moment he’s considering burning it down. He’d just seen you amble into a room, Lucas trailing behind like a stupid dog and his heart clenching hard in his chest. It took two seconds after the door shut for him to shove Hyeri off his lap and mumble something about needing air.

(What he needed was you).

The coolness of the night ebbed at his boiling blood, but nothing could ease the ache. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Chayoung’s voice feels alien, creeping up his back. He turns to look at her, a polite comment on how he’d like to be left alone hanging on his lips. She interrupts it by handing him a cup, a tender smile gracing her lips. Jeongguk accepts it with a shrug, hoping the burn in his throat will be a distraction. It isn’t. But he forces another sip down as Chayoung slithers outside too, the room behind her glowing as if the building was on fire.

What store sells matches and lighter fluid in the middle of the night? And won’t ask incriminating questions? 

“Why the long face?” She asks, peering at him from the corner of her eye.

Jeongguk shrugs, the words in his head refusing to form into understandable sounds.

“Hyeri not cutting it?” Chayoung murmurs. His eyes snap to her, but she’s not staring at him, her gaze fixed on the dark sky. 

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk is baffled say the least. He thought his act with Hyeri was a little bit more solid proof. He liked her–somewhat. 

Chayoung turns slow, almost sinisterly, a glint in her brown eyes that unsettles him. “I just don’t think she’s in your league.”

The scoff that leaves Jeongguk’s throat burns. He hated that stupid idea of leagues. You should like a person for who they are, not where they stand in foolish social hierarchies. But Chayoung reads his response wrong, suddenly impossibly close, a stray finger trailing along his shoulder. Her nails are talons. He shudders, trying to hide it by leaning away. Chayoung just leans closer, alcohol tainted breath grazing his own. For a moment, Jeongguk considers fleeing back inside to come ask you to collect your drunk friend (a perfect excuse to finally say something to you after months of radio silence) but then he remembers that might potentially end with him walking into the room and finding you with Lucas’s tongue down your throat.

And that would suck. A lot.

But before he can think of another solution Chayoung’s fingernails are scrapping his neck, leaving his skin prickled.

“But then again, do you seem to always pick the wrong ones.” That bristles him and his eyes are suddenly hard and narrow.

“What do you mean by that?” He spits it out, a spark igniting in his chest when Chayoung shrugs. The smile on her face disgusts him.

“You know what I mean.” Her finger is sliding down his shirt and Jeongguk feels branded even through the material. “When you look like this, running around girls like that is honestly a little sad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s hoping he’s hearing this all wrong. That she’s just drunk and acting stupid. But when her eyes lift to him he knows she means it. Every word of it.

“You could do better, Jeongguk. So much better.”

“Chayoung you need to shut the fuc–”

Her lips taste like vodka and cherry lip balm, which is sickening because that’s what you taste like–sans the vodka. Cherry lip balm was your brand. It always was, you’ve got like five of them scattered around your room and a couple more hidden in Jeongguk’s. He recoils instantly, acid climbing up his throat as his hands find something–anything to push away. What he finds are Chayoung’s shoulders and when he pushes he pushes hard. They break apart and the floor beneath Jeongguk cracks wide open, his head spinning violently.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He doesn’t know what else to say, the circuits in his brain frying. Chayoung’s tongue skips over her lips, now wet and a little plush from the force she used to slam her mouth into his. 

“Showing you that you can do better.”

He blinks, taken a large step back when Chayoung moves forward, a little sway in her feet. 

“You’re drunk and acting crazy. I think I should call Y/N to com–”

“Oh fuck Y/N. Such a whiny bitch. Do you really think she deserves you? After all the shit she’s put you through?” Chayoung’s eyes feel like knives, sharp and striking deep with every word. 

“Aren't you her friend? What the hell is wrong with you?” Jeongguk needs this to de-escalate. Chayoung wants to throw gasoline on an open flame instead.

“No–what’s wrong with you, Jeongguk? Moping around for a girl who never realised what she had when it was right in front of her? C’mon now.”

“You seriously need to shut the fuck up. You’re not gonna talk about her like that in front of me.”

“Why not? Cause you still love her? Even when she’s fucking Lucas?”

That stings, his heart bursting in his chest because Jeongguk didn’t know you were sleeping with him. He thought it would just be kisses or something. Not that–not Lucas touching you like he used to. But then Hyeri’s face flashes in before his eyes and he wilts. He can’t blame you for anything, not when he’s been doing the same horrible shit to you. And that makes him pause, the sudden realisation that he’s been hurting you smashing into his head. He didn’t want to hurt you–never. Not even if you were hurting him. He just needed a distraction, something to ease you off his mind. And maybe you did too, but all left you both with was gaping wounds that would never heal. And with other people hurt too.

God, this was a mess. And it dawns on Jeongguk that’s he’s made the worst mistake he’s ever made in his life. 

“You should hate her,” Chayoung continues, venomous. 

“I don’t,” Jeongguk returns, voice levelled. All he hates right now is himself. And Lucas (which is fair). Chayoung blanches, shaken by his firmness. “I really don’t, in fact, I need to talk to her. Right now.”

He moves fast, foot already past the threshold when Chayoung speaks again, her words aimed with intent to kill.

“She kissed Namjoon.”

He feels the nerves in his legs still instantly, before they nearly give way entirely, his grip on the door frame the only thing holding him up as his heart tears out of his chest. 

“I thought you should know,” Chayoung adds. And he hears it then, that vile smugness in her voice. She’s lying. She has to be. You wouldn’t do that to him. And he says that, storming back to Chayoung with his chest ripped open, his body thrumming with barely concealed rage. And fear. Jeongguk feels so scared right now because if you did that means everything he felt–everything he feared–could be true.

“She did.” Chayoung is immovable, standing tall and staring him down. “I’m not lying to you. Go ask Namjoon if you don’t believe me.”

Which, Jeongguk realises as his eyes fall shut that is going to absolutely do. And possibly break a nose in the process. He turns, trying to blink away the blurriness in his eyes, before Chayoung stops him with a single sentence again, this one said a little softer.

“Jeongguk,” she starts, eyeing him down, her brown eyes aflame under the moonlight. “I mean it when I say she doesn’t deserve you.”

—

Someone is attempting to break down Namjoon’s door. Which is bizarre considering it’s almost three in the morning. He has to drag himself out of the comfort of his warm sheets to figure out which maniac is attempting to smash through solid wood with only their fists because it seems like they’re almost succeeding. 

The maniac in question is Jeon Jeongguk, standing rigid when Namjoon swings the door open, moonlight bleeding over his features. He’s mad, staring at Namjoon like he wished his head was rolling on the ground instead of stationed square on his shoulders. But there’s something else there, doe eyes glossy.

“Jeongguk? What the hell are–”

“You kissed her.”

Everything stills, the two men fixated on each other. Jeongguk is so still he could have been mistaken for a statue. Almost as if he was waiting for the words that would break this moment, ease the tension seizing his muscles, tell him what he wants to hear. Namjoon can’t do any of that. Instead, he sighs, a muted, “Oh”, floating from his lips.

Jeongguk snaps the second he realises it’s true.

“Oh? You kissed her and all you have to say is oh?” Hands are digging into the soft cotton of his nightshirt and Namjoon’s feet are no longer on the ground. He’s apparently levitating, lifted solely by this hurt angry boy invading his apartment. His back hits the nearest wall with a thud that vibrates through his bones. When the hell did Jeongguk get this strong?”

“Whoa–relax,” Namjoon wheezes, his strong fingers guiding Jeongguk off him. But heartbreak tends to be enough fuel because Jeongguk pushes back with an ease that unnerves him. “Jeongguk, you seriously need to relax. Let go of me and we can talk about this.”

“Why did you do it?” That is what he gets in return. Jeongguk’s voice wavers, coloured a violent red in the velvet of the night.

“I didn’t do anything,” Namjoon returns, the words delivered gingerly.

“No–no you did. You kissed her. You–”

“She kissed me, Jeongguk. And I can seriously explain all of it if you just relaxed and we talked about it–”

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t do that to me–she wouldn’t.” And Oh God No, Namjoon thinks he just heard the sound of a heart breaking. It sounds like a weird mangled bird collapsing from the sky and its wing hitting the ground with a funny wet smash, fragile bones snapping like twigs. 

Jeongguk’s fingers peel from his shirt and bury themselves in his hair, yanking at the cropped strands as his face twists. 

This is far too much emotion for a single person to deal with in the middle of the bloody night.

“Hey–hey, calm down. It was a mistake, I promise you. She was just feeling a little all over the place and made a bad choice–”

“No–that’s the fucking point! She made a choice. She chose you.” Jeongguk’s staring at him in a way that hurts, like he’s attempting to transfer all the pain that’s writhing through his body into Namjoon’s from sight alone.

“What? What are you talking about?” 

Jeongguk is frantic, almost like he’s trying to stop himself from pouring out onto the floor. A flood barely contained. “She chose you first. I was there–I was always there. But then you waltzed in and she saw something in you that she didn’t find in me and she chose you.”

Namjoon cocks his head, staring hard at Jeongguk’s round wide eyes, slowly coming to realisations that he was surrounded by idiotic people.

“I still have no idea what you are talking about, but I have to ask, don’t you remember a single thing I told you the last time we spoke about Y/N? You’re the reason we broke up.” That halts him and Namjoon takes that as a moment to press onward, somewhat tired of being dragged into this awkward mess. “And I’ll say this in the nicest way possible but you’re an idiot if you think Y/N wouldn’t pick you over me any day–over anyone really. I could be drowning and you could have a scrapped knee and she’d check on you first. We broke up because I realised I was just a placeholder until she felt brave enough to tell you she liked you. You were rather intimidating for her to approach. Or have you forgotten your track record of girls? It wasn’t easy for her–especially when she was risking losing her best friend.”

The silence that follows aches, Jeongguk’s eyes flashing like he never considered that in the first place. 

“But why the other guys then? Why not just tell me after you?” 

Namjoon’s going to bang his head into the wall. “You’re her best friend–what about that are you not getting? What if you didn’t like her back and it ruined the most important relationship in her life?”

“But I did–I always liked her.”

“No,” Namjoon nearly groans out loud. “You didn’t. If you liked her you wouldn’t have fucked Chaerin in the back of your car and then gone to report it to Y/N with a grin on your face.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon returns. “Oh. That’s the exact day we broke up too. Such a stupid fight because she was crying and that’s when I put two and two together and realised I was never going to take precedence over you.” 

“I didn’t know I was hurting her,” Jeongguk murmurs, almost distraught. 

A strangled noise erupts from Namjoon’s throat. “You’ve hurt her a lot more than you’ll realise.” But the second he says that and Jeongguk’s face twists into something unrecognisable he wants to take them back.

“She’s too good for me. Maybe we are better off apart.”

“No, no. You’re so wrong actually. This break-up thing has been miserable to watch and I’m not even in the centre of it. I’ve just caught a bunch of stray bullets.”

“You’re not getting me,” Jeongguk’s eyes swing to him. “She came to you at the end of it all. Maybe we are better with other people. Maybe you’re better for her.”

“She came to me because she missed you. She just needed someone to lean on during your absence. I wouldn’t have to do that if you were there. You know, you should just talk about this with Y/N.”

“I can’t, she’s happy with Lucas. I think.”

Namjoon wants to bang both your heads together so bad. Maybe finally the fact that you love each other would get through your thick skulls then. 

“She doesn’t,” he says, instead. “And I know that for a fact. You should really go talk to her. Figure this whole mess out. And also finally get out of my apartment.” Jeongguk’s gaze withers. Namjoon shrugs in return. “It’s the middle of the night and I have a meeting in the morning. I really need to sleep.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” He’s so meek like this, nursing a shattered heart and a confused head. It’s slightly jarring to the image he usually presents, so self-assured and unfazed by whatever gets thrown at him. Never exposed like this, every emotion he holds inside displayed across his face. 

“It’s alright. Just think about what I said and talk to her. Honestly. Not skirting over shit like the two of you tend to do. Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, trailing towards the open door. Namjoon had registered a breeze billowing in, but he’d completely missed the fact that the door of his apartment was swung wide open. Jeongguk abruptly stops just as Namjoon’s sense of bearing returns, turning to face him with his face pulled down by shame. “I’m really sorry. For this whole thing. I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that I was just–”

“I get it. You love her and it feels like she’s slipping from your fingers. Just don’t do that shit again and stop trying to push her away. I’ll say it again–you were always her first choice.” He sees it then, a slight flutter through Jeongguk’s chest. A broken bird mending. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk breathes. “Thanks.”

Namjoon sighs, offering a tight smile and shutting the door firmly when Jeongguk finally drifts out. He needs a drink before he hits the sheets again. A strong one.

[angstsfordays]

Beautiful Pain

The Falcon And The Winter Soldier (TFATWS) Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced! Reader

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.3k

Prologue

Summary: Post-blip, you started to feel lost when most of the Avengers team are gone. Coping with your loss, you still find hope in the connection with your remaining friends. However, it is not easy as everyone is trying to figure their lives after the blip.

Having a long history with Bucky ever since you both saved each other from Hydra, you were still glad you had Bucky after all this time. However, as you try to give Bucky space to find himself after being pardoned for his past, you start to wonder if you should ever cross the line of friendship before it’s too late.

That thought might have to be put on hold though, when you, Sam and Bucky find yourselves having to deal with threats that continue to rise in a post-blip world.

Notes: This series is based on the Disney+ series with my own interpretation as I include my OC in it. A bit late in the game, but I am back after surviving the whole of last year and now closing into graduation! When I knew that this series was out, I knew it was my chance to make a comeback here! 

This is a prologue to give background on the OC. Also, you will get some insight into her history and relationship with Bucky before TFATWS.

Please enjoy and leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! 💖

This is also the unofficial series masterlist:

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven |

----------------------------//----—————————

Wakanda, 5 years ago

“Hey, I just fed you!” Your brows furrowed in frustration as the little runt of a goat continuously followed you to nip on your loose cotton pants.

You could hear a chuckle from the corner when Bucky came into your view. He was carrying a large sack of fertilizer that was to be used for your edible garden.

The frown on your face slowly curved upwards when you see the beautiful smile on his face. How can a single smile make your heart stop and beat wildly at the same time?

You quickly walked over to where he was, looking at how he bent over to set down the sack before flashing you another heart-stopping smile. From that moment, you only wished to always see him being this happy.

“Steve just wants you to pay attention to him.” Your lips quirked when you thought about how he had decided to name an annoying goat after his best pal.

“Can’t blame him when there’s a pretty girl around.” He continued before he proceeded to open the sack.

You did not know to respond to his compliment but you knew that you shouldn’t think more of it. Steve had told you before of how Bucky was like in the past before everything horrible that happened to him. How he was such a charmer with the ladies.

—————————----//-----------------------——

You wouldn’t have expected it, especially when you met him for the first time. When your powers first revealed themselves in an accident while you were barely a teenager, you found yourself panicking at what was happening to you.

You started finding yourself on the run from Hydra before S.H.I.E.L.D got to you. Taken under Coulson’s wing, you were only supposed to be an asset under close surveillance so that you would not fall into the wrong hands. When you became a young adult, you signed up to be an agent seeing how Coulson was close to you like a father. You wanted to follow in his footsteps to help the world become a better place.

However, given the fact that powers make you a target for Hydra, Director Fury asked you to keep your powers on the down-low. You weren’t allowed to use them in front of others and it was a kept secret amongst the higher-ups.

That all changed when the Avengers initiative was founded. You refused the title but accepted the offer to be part of the team. You once again find yourself at the hands of Hydra once it was revealed that S.H.I.E.L.D was infiltrated from the inside.

You unexpectedly got kidnapped in the mess. When you met Alexander Pierce, you were promised to become an asset to Hydra whether you were willing or not. That’s when you first met Bucky.

You didn’t recognise him at first but the photos that Steve had shown you coupled with the ones you saw in the museum allowed you to fit the pieces together. You still remembered his expression when you first called him by his real name. He didn’t get it at first before you started shouting his full name. That earned you a slap from Pierce himself before he got Rumlow to haul you back into a cell.

As time passed in a blur, the last thing you expected was Bucky breaking you out of your cell and the two of you escaped together. You two stuck like glue throughout the entire time in Romania before he got involved in a crime he didn’t commit.

You fought for him and revealed your powers publicly for the first time. While he and Steve managed to escape, you were arrested for choosing the wrong side and being deemed a threat to global security.

Fast forward, you were brought to Wakanda with Bucky and Steve trusted you to take care of his best pal while he continued to be on the run.

Here you are now, living on a farm with Bucky ever since his programming has been removed. Even though Steve is his best pal, Bucky still feels a distance between him and Steve. They had been separated for more than 70 years after all.

While Steve had only the best intentions for him, Bucky knew he could never be the same old person he was before Hydra happened. Bucky felt like you were the only one who accepts him for who he truly is.

A broken man still trying to recover from his dark past. A man who will never be the same.

You never expected him to become someone else, but only embraced him for who he is. He was grateful that you were always patient with him when he fell into his terrible moods from the aftermath of his nightmares. Bucky felt even more blessed when he saw how you always make him smile and laugh more, reminding him that he is not truly alone and that you were someone he could depend on.

Bucky still feels like it is a dream that he now has you by his side. Who knew that the S.H.I.E.L.D agent that had been planned to become another fist of Hydra alongside him would be the closest person he had now?

The two of you shared more similarities than you realised. Both of you had dreamed of the day you two can stop fighting. Being exposed to the real world since you were a young teen, you started growing weary of it all. You had hoped to find yourself in social work once you retired from this life of constant fighting. Bucky didn’t have any plans for himself for the future but he always hoped you would still be willing to be there beside him.

It seemed easy to define your relationship, right? You two were definitely friends. Confidants, perhaps? There was a constant gnawing feeling in your gut if you two could ever be more. Your feelings for Bucky became stronger with the time you two spent together, but you weren’t sure if it was only because he has been the only constant in your life for the last five years.

While the two of you had your close moments, Bucky never gave the hint that it could allude to more. You weren’t super keen to ruin your friendship either. Bucky has become someone so important in your life that you did not want to lose him. There was no way you want to change anything even if it meant suppressing the growing feelings you had for him.

The thoughts in your head were suddenly interrupted when you hear people approaching. Turning back, you saw King T’Challa and Okoye approaching with more soldiers following behind carrying a case. Bucky stopped his current actions and the two of you proceeded to walk closer to where they stood. You could see the change in his demeanour when the two of you approached closer and saw the case to reveal a new metal arm- specifically Vibranium.

It was a moment of silence as everyone exchanged looks before Bucky spoke.

“Where’s the fight?” You could hear the dread in his voice. Your heart fell at his crestfallen expression, empathising with what he was feeling.

King T’Challa was not oblivious to it either but proceeded to give his response. “On its way.”

You didn’t realise you were holding your breath all this time until you let out an exhale. Looking over to see Bucky with a conflicted expression, your hand reached out to place your hands gently on Bucky’s left shoulder and gave a soft reassuring pat.

You mustered a brave front and showed him a reassuring smile.

“We will get through this together, Buck. As always.” Hoping your words would make him feel better, you were relieved when he returned a smile back at you.

Seeing your optimism no matter the circumstances (especially when the world might potentially come to an end), Bucky Barnes felt like he could do anything as long you were by his side.

[storiesforallfandoms]

locked up ~ clint barton;mcu

word count: 2279

request?: yes!

for @stellastyless​

description: after having to deal with their weird friendship for so long, her brother and their friends decide to take matters into their own hands

pairing: clint barton x female!oc

warnings: swearing

masterlist

“What are you doing here?”

I raised an eyebrow at Clint. “Wow, that’s a nice greeting. Good to see you, too, Clint.”

Clint rolled his eyes at me. “I was told Natasha wanted to meet me here. She said something about training?”

Hearing him say he was meeting Natasha felt like a dagger through my heart. Of course he wanted to meet Natasha, why wouldn’t he? Everyone loves Natasha. She’s gorgeous and badass.

I crossed my arms over my chest and gave Clint the best bitchy look I could muster. “Well, Tony told me he wanted to meet in here, too. Maybe they accidentally double booked us or something.”

I felt a hard shove push me further into the room before the door closed behind me and locked. I pulled on the knob a little before calling, “Friday? What the fuck?!”

“I’m sorry Miss Stark,” Friday’s voice filled the room. “I have strict orders not to let you out.”

“What? Who gave you those orders?”

My brother’s face appeared in the window of the door. I rolled my eyes as I unsheathed one of my katanas. “Of course. Let us out Tony!”

“Hey!” Tony stopped me before I could pounce. “You know I secured all the windows so you can’t break any of them again.”

I groaned as I realized he was right. After a few...accidents in the compound, Tony had to replace all the glass with bullet proof glass so my katanas couldn’t go through it anymore.

Natasha’s face appeared beside Tony then.

“Nat, what is Tony playing at here?” Clint asked.

“Actually, this was my idea,” she admitted.

“You two have been dancing around your feelings for far too long,” Tony said. “We are sick of it, so neither of you are allowed to leave until you finally talk everything through.”

I rolled my eyes at him again. “There’s nothing to talk about. This is so childish. Friday, let us out.”

“I’m sorry Miss Stark, I can’t do that.” Friday responded. “Tony has given me strict orders to not open the door for anyone except him.”

“We’ll return to check on you guys in about an hour,” Tony said. “Don’t kill each other.”

He disappeared before Clint and I could protest. Natasha gave us a sympathetic look before following Tony’s lead. I sighed and faced Clint. “So, now what do we do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand what Tony is talking about. I can’t dance at all, let alone around some feelings.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke.

Of course, I knew what Tony meant, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Clint. Not when it was so obvious that he didn’t feel the same way for me.

I knew I had feelings for Clint since the very beginning. At first I had thought it was just an infatuation with his archery skills. As someone who was trained in Kunoichi and skilled with katanas, it always interested me to watch someone who was equally as skilled in something else.

It wasn’t until Clint and I were sent to the Hydra base on an undercover mission that I realized my feelings were deeper than friendship. I was tasked with distracting Hydra agents while Clint tried to get in and get the information. I decided the best way to do that was to pretend to flirt with the guards. It didn’t take long for Clint to get in and get the info then leave, but to get me away from the guards he pretended to be my boyfriend. He had walked up to me, put his arm around my waist and talked all sweet and gentle to me before knocking the guard out.

Feeling his hand on my waist, hearing him say sweet nothings to me, even though I knew it meant nothing, still made my heart race and I felt severely disappointed when I realized it was just a role he was playing, although I should’ve known that from the start. And in that moment, I knew that I saw Clint as more than just my teammate or my friend.

But it was also painfully obvious that I was not the one Clint had eyes for. Natasha was. I could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her or about her. They had been friends for so long, partners for even longer. Clint was the reason Natasha was brought onto S.H.I.E.L.D. It made sense that they’d have feelings for one another.

And that’s where mine and Clint’s love-hate relationship came from.

The time within the room we were locked in passed very slowly. Seconds after Tony and Natasha left, I was sure that an hour had already passed. We had nothing to occupy ourselves besides each other, but neither one of us was making any attempts at a conversation.

“Do you think we could force the door open with one of your katanas?” Clint asked finally. He had been eyeing the door for some time. “They’re sharp enough to get in through the slits there, maybe we could maneuver it in some way to unlatch the lock and let ourselves out.”

I shook my head. “These doors have some real defense mechanisms on them. One too many bad guys have broken into this building, Tony isn’t about to let that happen again.”

“And you don’t think Friday will open the door for us if we ask while Tony isn’t around?”

I shook my head again. “Nope. Friday is basically Jarvis on crack. She’ll listen to Tony’s every command and do exactly as he says, which means if Tony says to keep us locked in here, she’ll do just that.”

Clint sighed and put his head back against the wall. “God, he’s such an annoying control freak.”

I glared at Clint. “Hey, that’s my brother you’re talking about. He’s not controlling, he’s just careful and worried. After everything he’s been through, and the countless people he’s lost or almost lost, he’s not about to take any risks.”

“You’re not objecting to the annoying part.”

“No, cause he is annoying. He’s just not a control freak.”

A hint of a smile spread on Clint’s face. “Do you think he locked us in here to see if we’d kill each other.”

I eyed Clint’s outfit, noting his lack of bow and arrow. “No, not when you don’t have any weapons. Too easy of a fight for me.”

“What if I stole one of your katanas?”

“Still too easy, I’m trained to fight with one or both.”

The silence fell over the room again. I wished desperately to check my watch, but realized, of course, that I had forgotten it in my room.

Tony has to be coming back soon, I thought to myself. It has to almost be an hour.

Suddenly, a TV in the room flickered to life. Clint and I jumped up at the same time as an image of the two of us filled the screen. For a moment, I thought that it was a live video of the two of us, until I realized I was holding a bow and arrow. I recognized the room we were in as the training room in the basement of the tower.

“Steve asked you to do this?” the Stella in the video asked. “I’m a little offended. I thought I was good with my own weapons.”

“You are,” Clint told me. “But imagine how unstoppable you’d be if you mastered the katanas and archery.”

Video Stella smirked to herself. “You have a point. Alright sensei, teach me.”

The video fast forwarded a while as Clint trained me in archery. It stopped again when Natasha walked into the room, pulling her bright red hair back into a ponytail. “Hey guys. Am I interrupting?”

“Yes,” came my response, which was overlapped by Clint saying, “No, not at all.”

Natasha smiled at the two of us. “Mind if I practice too then? My skills have gotten a little rusty.”

“Of course, the more the merrier,” Clint told her, offering her his own bow and arrow.

I could remember my jealousy in that moment. I remembered the feeling of anger bubbling up in me as Clint drew all of his attention to Natasha. As per usual, they started talking about their own past missions and old memories while Clint helped Natasha, who very obviously didn’t need it.

I felt my cheeks heating up with embarrassment as I watched Video Stella glaring at Clint and Natasha as I pointed the arrow at a target on the wall. Not watching what I was doing, the arrow flew miles away from the target and hit the wall, causing an indent that I knew was still there to this day.

Clint hissed a profanity before running towards the arrow, attempting to pull it down. As he did so, I quickly walked over to Natasha.

“Hey Nat,” I said. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but do you mind leaving Clint and I to work on this? He seems a little...distracted by you.”

Natasha gave me a knowing look, one that I had chosen to ignore at the time. “Sure, have fun with your lesson.”

“I’m still upset over the damage to that wall,” came Tony’s voice as the TV turned off again. “But I guess I’m glad it’s the training room and not anywhere else in the building.”

“What was that for, Tony?” I asked, trying not to face Clint. He didn’t know I had asked Natasha to leave that day. I had told her she just left, and she went along with my excuse.

“Just to jog your memory, since neither of you seem to know why we want you to talk,” Tony responded. “You have another 20 minutes.”

I couldn’t help but groan as I heard how much time we had left.

“Why did you ask Natasha to leave that day?” Clint asked. I finally turned to look at him to see that he was confused. “You were doing so well before she came, then you...demolished the wall and told her I was distracted by her?”

I felt my heart racing as I tried to come up with some excuse. “I...I figured that I needed the training from you, s-since I had shot the wall.”

“But you were...staring at us when it happened. You weren’t even focusing on the target when you shot.”

I felt frustration boiling over in me and I couldn’t stop myself before I blurted, “God Clint, are you really that fucking blind?!”

He was taken back by my outburst, and so was I honestly. With that out, however, I knew there was no turning back. “Why else do you think I’d get like that when Natasha is around? Why do you think I was so distracted despite not being so earlier? Use your brain for once you fucking idiot!”

“And here you go again,” Clint said, rolling his eyes. “We were getting along before that stupid video played, and now you’re getting angry with me. Why are you like this, Stella? What happened to us just being friends like we were when we first met?”

“I can’t just be fucking friends with you, Clint!” I snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because I have fucking feelings for you!”

I covered my mouth the moment the words were out. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, but at the same time it felt like another one had replaced it. I had to wait for Clint’s response, and I already knew it wasn’t going to be one I liked.

He looked shocked at my outburst. My hands were shaking as I slowly lowered them from my face. I looked around the room, trying to find the security camera I knew Tony had installed in there. “Did you hear that, big brother? I said it! You got what you wanted, now open the door!”

“Not yet,” Tony’s voice responded.

“What else are you waiting for?” I asked. I could hear my voice trembling, but I held back the lump of tears that was forming in my throat. “Clint’s not going to say anything back, he doesn’t like me the same way. Why would he? I mean, have you seen Natasha? She’s gorgeous, and she’s so badass. Why would he ever have feelings for me when he already has her?”

“Stel,” came Natasha’s voice in return, “turn around.”

I turned to look back at Clint, who caught my lips with his the moment I had turned. I melted into the kiss immediately, almost feeling relieved that I was finally able to kiss him.

I pulled away after a moment, looking up at him. “Really?”

The smile that I adored spread across his face. “Yeah, really. I’ve been wanting to tell you for such a long time, but I always thought you hated me.”

“I thought it was easier to pretend to hate you than to let myself get hurt,” I admitted. “I didn’t inherit my father’s brains like Tony did.”

“She said it, not me,” came Tony’s voice once more before the door to the room unlocked and opened.

I couldn’t wipe the wide smile off of my face as I looked up at Clint. “So...what does this mean now? Where do we go from here?”

“We get out of this room and I take you somewhere nice where we can start all over,” Clint responded. “Forget all the jealousy and the fights ever happened and we try this again...but better this time.”

I nodded. “I like that plan. Let’s go.”

[writing-with-whiplash]

Stealing More Than Kisses

“Stealing More Than Kisses”

Hey guys! This is a fanfic of @jangofctts amazing clone oc Sweets! Go check out her awesome clone oc’s by searching for “sunburst squadron” on her blog and also check out all the other amazing fics she has! Sweets is her creation. I do not own his character, I’m just writing for him.

Sweets x mechanic!reader

Word Count: 2450 

Warnings: clone discrimination, stealing, mild swearing, fluff, gender-neutral reader

This is my first fic, so I’d appreciate any constructive comments and reblogs! Have an awesome day!

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When you had been assigned as the new mechanic to the Sunburst Squadron, you had no idea why all the others before you had quit. That is, until you met the wild bunch that you affectionately called the Sunburst Boys. Although they were loyal and dependable soldiers, and your closest friends, you couldn’t help but think of the squadron as a bit chaotic. Between the death-defying trick flying of the pilot Kamikaze and the reckless altruism of the trooper Blue, it’s no wonder that you and Commander Blanche hadn’t had heart attacks trying to keep the squad together. Or in your case, keep the ship together, which brought you to your current predicament. 

“Kamikaze!” you hollered across the hangar as the Sunburst Boys unloaded from their battered spacecraft. “What did I tell you about bringing the ship back all banged up?” 

Kami turned sheepishly toward you, raising his hands in defeat. “Couldn’t help it,” he shrugged. He must’ve been exhausted to not send a snippy quip your way about the ship’s state. In fact, all of the soldiers looked worse for wear, their shoulders sagging under the weight of their brightly colored armor.

 You decided to take it easy on him today. There would be more opportunities in the future to drag him for his dare-devil piloting. “You boys go rest. I’ll take care of the scrap pile,” you huffed. Kami rolled his eyes and slumped past you toward the barracks. The rest of the squadron followed suit, although one trooper lingered by the ship’s ramp. “What’s up, Sweets?” you asked softly, hoping to not startle the shy sharp shooter. Sweets lifted his eyes from the floor to meet your own, his teal bangs plastered to his forehead. He offered a half-hearted shrug and quickly shifted his eyes back to the floor. “Was the mission rough?” you asked, although you could already guess the answer. Sweets was normally quiet, but this time seemed different. The trooper nodded at your question and shook his head when you asked if he wanted to talk about it. “You just wanna hang out with me while I try to fix whatever Kami’s done to the ship this time?” The ghost of an amused smile danced across Sweets’ lips as he nodded again.

Sweets had been the first trooper of the squadron to grow on you when you first started out. Out of the rambunctious bunch, he was the youngest and quietest. While his brothers preferred to bond through roughhousing and swapping insults, Sweets preferred to just be near you. He didn’t talk much, but he loved to listen to you talk or hum while you tinkered on the ship. The quiet sharpshooter also loved to bring you little gifts that he picked up while on missions--a rock here, a bead there, a little figurine from a market on some backwater planet or another. You knew that not everything he brought back was...purchased, per say, but you didn’t mind. Everything he gave you was small and heartfelt and it’s not like the soldiers were paid anyway. If these boys were risking their lives on the frontlines to protect the entire galaxy, then you figured they deserved to swipe the occasional small item without worrying about what anyone would say. Maker, you knew they deserved so much more than that. 

Recently, Sweets had been bringing back items that felt more personal than random rocks. He always had a knack for figuring out what you liked best. Not long after mentioning offhand that a particular type of stone had caught your eye in a jewelry shop, you found a pendant in the same stone in your tool box. When you talked about your favorite kind of candy that you hadn’t been able to find in a while, a few pieces of it appeared in your locker. Sweets had always been such a sweetheart to you and you had begun to fall for him as soon as you started working with him. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship by telling the shy soldier that you had feelings for him. Instead, you simply enjoyed his company as he hovered around your work station in the hangar.  

The ship was truly a mess. Carbon scoring painted the hull that, miraculously, had stayed intact despite heavy damages. The edge of the starboard wing was crinkled and battered--there was an endless amount of reckless maneuvers Kami normally pulled that would cause that kind of damage. You clicked your tongue and shook your head, making a list of all the replacement parts you would need to buy for it. A wiring harness here, a set of gears there, a few durasteel panels damaged beyond repair. You had a lot of welding to do. The hangar had most of the replacement parts you needed, but working on such a small base on an Outer Rim planet left you with a few things to be had. Ah well, you grinned to yourself, all that meant was a chance to stretch your legs at the local market and swap meet. 

“Hey, Sweets,” you called from beneath the ship, scooting toward him on your creeper seat. “Do you want to run to the market with me for some parts?” 

Sweets’ eyes lit up as he nodded enthusiastically, making you chuckle at him and smile. Had you looked at him a little closer, you would have seen the quiet blush spread across his cheeks, highlighting the heart tattoo beneath his eye as he averted his gaze. The sniper couldn’t find the words to say it aloud to you, but he would go with you anywhere in the entire galaxy, just as long as he got to spend time with you.         

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The marketplace was bustling when the two of you arrived, the sounds of vendors hollering and the scents of various foods wafting through the crowds. The sea of customers and travelers parted around you as you wandered from stall to stall, quietly stretching your parts-run as long as possible. Although you could make it through a crowd just fine, you knew that many of the onlookers gave you a wide berth on account of the helmeted clone trooper who hovered over your shoulder at every stall you stopped at. 

Sweets always kept his helmet on during your frequent market outings, telling you that he preferred to see rather than be seen, but secretly he just wanted to watch you without you noticing. He loved the way your fingers danced across the items you touched, the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled at friendly vendors, the way you fidgeted while waiting in line or running parts numbers in your head. All of these little observations over the past several months had allowed Sweets to figure out all the little quirks about you and the interests you never verbally divulged. He knew by the way that you tilted your head and looked at the ground while talking to a vendor that you were about to turn down his price on some wiring. Just as he predicted, you walked back toward him empty handed, a small frown pulling your soft lips down. 

“If I were allowed a bigger budget for replacement parts I wouldn’t mind buying from that guy, but I just don’t have enough to cover it.” Sweets nodded sympathetically as you shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to keep going on down the line. What a shame that we’ll have to spend so much more time in the market, rather than sitting around the base.” You winked at Sweets, earning a quiet chuckle from his helmet’s vocoder. 

The two of you wandered aimlessly throughout the market, striding slowly by stall after stall of alien fruits, handmade items, and spacecraft parts that weren’t on your shopping list. You had to practically drag Sweets away from a booth boasting several species of small cage pets, knowing that he would try to pocket one of the adorable, squishy-cheeked rodents. Just as you turned to tell him not to get in trouble with the vendor, a particular booth caught your eye. 

“Ooh, look at this one!” The pet vendor didn’t have the chance to chew Sweets out as you grabbed the trooper lightly by the arm and pulled him to a booth full of wood bead jewelry. 

Sweets was once again grateful for the cover of his helmet, as his face flushed at your contact. He leaned slightly into your touch, craving more, but, in your intense focus on the beads, you didn’t notice his change in demeanor.    

“Look at this one,” you murmured to him, plucking a bracelet from the top of a large pile of wooden jewelry and displaying it in your hand. Your fingers swiped over the central bead, a little carved heart the same color as Sweets’ tattoo. “It’s you as a bracelet,” you beamed, staring directly into Sweets’ melting gaze, although his eyes were hidden behind his dark visor. Sweets swore his heart completely stopped when you looked at him like that, but all he could do was sheepishly nod. You had already turned around, grabbing a near identical bracelet, this time with the heart painted in what Sweets knew was your favorite color. “We should get matching ones.” 

The old lady running the booth finally made her way over to you after you said that, eyeing you with suspicion. “Can I help you, dear?” she asked flatly. You noted how she only addressed you, almost refusing to look at the soldier standing beside you. 

“Yes, my friend and I would like these two bracelets here,” you offered, already fishing the credits out of your pocket.

The old shopkeeper huffed. “Honey, this fella here ain’t your friend. He’s a soldier. A clone,” she sneered, arching an eyebrow at him. “He’s only here to shoot droids and serve the Republic, not buddy up with you. And I know for a fact that he can’t even pay for his own bracelet. Just shameful.” 

You tensed and grabbed Sweets’ hand as he attempted to back away from the woman. Anger boiled in your stomach, threatening to spill out of your mouth. That old vendor had no right to speak about any soldier like that, especially not in front of one. Not in front of Sweets. You tossed the bracelets back onto the pile with a little more force than necessary. “Well if that’s how you feel about the men giving their lives to make sure that you can sell your cheap jewelry and bitch about them, then I don’t want to buy from you anyway.” You squeezed Sweets’ hand lightly with your own shaky one and turned to leave. 

Before the rude shopkeeper could say anything, a small boy ran up to the booth screeching, “Nan!” The old woman cast one last seething glare at you before plastering on a smile for who appeared to be her grandson. 

The instant she turned her back on you you felt a surge of boldness. You quickly snatched the bracelets you had thrown down and rushed back in the direction of the army base, sniper in tow. He had definitely begun to rub off on you. When you felt that you were far enough away from the booth you had just stolen from, you slowed down, heart still racing. Sweets pulled you into the alleyway between a noisy cantina and a bustling restaurant. Nobody seemed to notice the pair of you as Sweets pulled his helmet off and cupped your cheek. Your breath hitched at the contact and your eyes flitted up to his soft gaze. 

“Are you okay?” he murmured. His other hand grabbed your wrist, rubbing small circles into the soft skin there. 

“Yah, I’m fine,” you whispered breathlessly. “I just can’t believe she’d say something like that! That little--” Sweets cut you off with his thumb against your bottom lip.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. You watched forlornly as his normally bright eyes cast down and away from you. His shoulders began to curl inward and you placed your free hand against his chestplate. 

“No, it’s not. I’m so sorry that you had to hear that. You don’t deserve that. None of you do. You deserve so much better than that.” You sniffed as your voice cracked, throat tightening. Sweets dropped your wrist and leaned closer at your words. You took the opportunity to pull the first bracelet out of your pocket and slide it up between his vambrace and glove. “I hope you actually wanted this,” you chuckled, “because it’s yours now. I’m not taking it back.” 

Sweets rolled his eyes and stepped even closer, his face mere inches from yours. “I love it,” he breathed. The words fanned across your face and you pulled yours even closer to his, noses just brushing. Eyes closing, Sweets dipped his mouth down to press against you. You returned the kiss softly, your lips slotting gently together. 

A fire lit within your chest at that first soft, slow kiss. You gently twisted your fingers through Sweets’ mop of curls while he pulled you close to his chest. You caught his breath between your lips when you parted mouths, panting slightly and pressing the tip of your nose to his. Sweets gazed into your eyes with such warmth and admiration that your knees almost buckled, but he was there to catch you. He nuzzled into your neck, breathing a quiet “thank you” into your ear. You responded with a kiss to his cheek and a sweet smile in his hair. 

Neither of you wanted the moment to end. Days could have passed and the suns would have gazed down upon the two of you standing in the alleway, never parting. But, eventually your comm buzzed with orders to return to base. Reluctantly, the pair of you headed back, hand in hand, wearing matching stolen bracelets, and feeling the happiest you had ever felt in your life. Sweets snuck in one more kiss before replacing his helmet, smirking slightly at your flustered giggle. If this was the kind of response you got from getting Sweets gifts, then you thought you’d be okay with stealing more little things for him. Afterall, he had already stolen the best prize in the galaxy in his opinion: your heart.