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#and he's exactly what they trained him to be
kenntolog · 19 hours
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can you do smth about loser readers first interaction w sukunas friends/basketball team? i love the way you write their little moments
𝝑𝝔 an: hope you like this, bby!! thank u so much <33 read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
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it’s a little mistake from sukuna’s part; he accidentally arrives later to pick you up after he’s told you to wait in the empty arena and while he’s absent, it just so happens that his teammates are also leaving. and after they see you, everyone just can’t stay away from you.
most of the time enter the arena along with sukuna, his hand holding yours tightly as he looks at you with a smooth smile, busy telling you something to notice his teammates ogling you both because lovesick sukuna is something new. so it’s a total surprise to see you alone, sitting idly on the bleachers with your sketchbook in your hands.
of course, first and foremost, it’s fushiguro toji, who decides to plop down by your side, after his sharp eyes land on you as he comes out of the changing rooms.
you smoothly scoot away, intimidated by his close proximity, and look at him with a troubled kind of look, waiting for him to say something.
“the name’s toji.”
you mutter your own name, eyeing him warily as he leans closer. he doesn’t look very trustworthy; not with his sleazy smirk and sharp bright eyes, the scar tugging on the corner of his mouth and the way he doesn’t seem to understand what exactly is personal space. toji takes a strand of your hair, twirling it around his finger as he tries to catch your gaze.
“so, tell me,” he pauses, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “what’s it like being sukuna’s little pet?”
you visibly wince, moving farther away from him before you hit something with your hand, forced to look back in confusion when you’re met with someone’s long leg.
“y’should watch your mouth, y’know? sukuna will bite your head off if he hears you.”
your eyes glide upwards, widening at the sight of the guy with long raven locks you usually see in the hallways with his white-haired friend. he gives you a soft smile, his presence far more peaceful and welcoming than toji’s.
“suguru? who’re you talking to— oh,” said white-haired friend appears behind suguru, throwing his arm over his shoulder as he gazes down on you curiously. “you’re sukuna’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”
“i’m suguru, this is satoru,” satoru salutes you with a lopsided smirk, sitting down on a row below as he watches you through the lenses of his eyeglasses. “and this is toji, he is a bit rude.” toji rolls his eyes at that, scooting closer to you while suguru takes a place by your other side, other teammates also gathering around.
you find suguru to be the more adequate one; he’s quick to shush down any suggestive comments from toji and monitor whatever comes out of satoru’s unfiltered mouth. toji, albeit a bit brash and full of teasing remarks about your relationship with his team captain, is not that bad, his eyes seem to speak more about him than any part of him because of how they are solely trained on you and that’s a little uneasy.
satoru is quite silly, donning a cheeky smile on his lips and joking around with suguru’s who seems to be more acceptable of him. nanami seems to only keep to himself after he greeted you politely and introduced himself, and loves to speak up only to shut down satoru’s laughable claims.
you can’t help but note that they are all ridiculously handsome. no wonder everyone drools over them; toji is all broad shoulders and bulky build, suguru’s long hair makes him look like a total model along with his much more balanced build, satoru is the tallest out of them, unrealistically beautiful and built like the perfection itself, all slim and tall limbs, while nanami is something like a mix of all of them, still very striking though.
although, very intimidating in their presence and appearance, they all seem to be pretty nice to you, you notice, and don’t try to pry too much into your personal life. except for toji — he just can’t accept the fact that sukuna’s dating a person, who is not even close to being similar to him, it’s so weird — and occasionally satoru.
that is, until the arena’s door loudly slams open and sukuna enters. the dead silence makes your stomach churn in nervousness as you watch his indifferent face turn more and more suspicious, his steps getting closer. he eyes down his teammates as he stands tall over the four of you, his gaze stilling when he notices toji sitting very close to you and leaning into your space.
sukuna offers you is hand silently, without looking at you, and you take it, face heating up from the intensity of his gaze even if it’s not directed at you. he leads you down the bleachers, not bothering to greet or talk to his teammates, and you can’t help looking back at them, waving your hand shyly as a way to say ‘bye’.
toji’s gaze lingers on you longer than suguru’s and satoru’s, the smirk on his face widening before he opens his mouth again, “won’t even let us talk more?”
sukuna flips him off, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “fuck off.”
+ bonus!
“did that asshole say anythin’ to upset you? if he did, i’ll beat him up.”
“no, ‘kuna, he isn’t that bad.”
“i’ll still ask geto, you’re too nice.”
“huh?”
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swordsandholly · 2 days
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Across the Way
Ch.3: The New Normal
Retired!Ghoap x Fem!Plus Size!Reader
MDNI
Ao3 | Previous - Next
Word Count: 3.3k
Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.
Sometimes Simon still feels like he’s in a dream. The world around him seems effervescent - so ready to slip through his fingers at a moments notice. He expects to pass through Johnny, as though the man was never there, that this house and home and world will crumble and he’ll wake to that grey, cracked ceiling above his bunk in the basic training barracks again.
But then Johnny grumbles something under his breath - because the man cannot shut up, even in deep REM - and turns over, hand resting on Simon’s chest. Even in his sleep the Scot knows how to ground him like nothing else. Like a sixth sense.
He can see discomfort in his husband’s furrowed brow. The hand on his chest twitches.
Ah. He’s going to wake up to a bad day.
Simon figures he won’t be going back to sleep anytime soon, so he may as well prepare. Even he isn’t sure exactly how he knows what will be in store when Johnny opens his eyes but he knows. Every twinge and wince expertly memorized with the same precision that made him do so well in the SAS.
Speaking of, Simon checks his phone while he lines up Johnny’s pain medication. Today’s his call with Price. A monthly reoccurrence. Every third Thursday. The old man and his control issues could never let him or Johnny fully go - he insisted to keep in touch. Even if it is just a monthly call. Simon knows the real reason - that Price was worried about how two gung-ho soldiers would settle into civilian life but the man would never admit to such sentiment.
Johnny stirs, a low groan passing his lips as he tries to hoist himself up. Simon presses his hand to his husband’s back, stilling him with a gentle touch.
“Lay back. Let me ‘elp you up.” He murmurs, rearranging the pillows slowly before wrapping an arm around Johnny’s waist to pull him into a sitting position.
Johnny presses his forehead into his palm, screwing his eyes shut. A small whimper escapes his throat - the sound breaks Simon’s heart every time.
“Rate it.”
Johnny sighs, thinking for a moment. Taking stock of it all. “…Three…?”
“Love.” Simon levels a look at Johnny. One he knows will get the man cut the bullshit.
“…five.”
“Thank you.” Simon nods, turning on his heel to get the proper medication. It’s a particularly bad day, if Johnny is willing to admit to anything above a two or three. For anyone else that’s a seven easy. Stubborn bastard. Simon opens the cabinet to grab the stronger stuff - their on hand back up.
Johnny tries to take it sparingly. He doesn’t want to grow too much of a tolerance - doesn't want to get addicted. Simon isn’t too worried about that, but Johnny insists.
“‘Ere.” Simon holds out two little pills and a cup of water. “Need ‘elp takin’ it?”
Johnny grimaces but nods. Simon’s gut churns with worry. It’s rare for the man to put aside his pride. To allow Simon to carefully tip his head back, cradling it with tender care as Johnny slowly sips at the glass.
“Thanks…” He seems almost bashful despite this being easily the least compromising position Simon has seen Johnny in.
“We’ll take it easy today. Get some take out...” Simon mumbles, reaching under the bed for the heated blanket. On the worst days Johnny’s circulation in his limbs seems to nearly freeze up. How that happens because of a brain injury the doctors have never been able to say.
“Simon?” Johnny murmurs.
“Hm?”
“Kiss me?”
Simon barks out a laugh. The way he still blushes when he asks after all these years is too cute for words. Johnny can say the most salacious shit with a perfectly straight face and then when he asks for such a simple touch he’s flustered like a schoolgirl.
Of course, Simon would never deny him. It’s impossible to say no to those big baby blues.
“I’m going to let Riley out into the yard. Want t’ take a bath when I get back?” Simon offers as he pulls back, running a thumb over Johnny’s lip and hoping the medication will have kicked in by then.
”Tryin’ tae get my clothes off, Mr. Riley?”
Simon rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t ‘ave to scheme t’do that.”
Johnny clicks his tongue. “I’m no’ tha’ easy.”
“Tell that to the maintenance closet in Hereford.”
“Yer no better.” Johnny grins. “Brazil?”
“Shut it.” He makes a playful cutting motion by his neck. Johnny just laughs at him. Simon wishes, like every time before, that he could have the sound carved into his very marrow.
He clicks his tongue and Riley follows dutifully. They got her an automatic feeder long ago so she’s already had her breakfast. Really it was a necessity - back when Johnny was in too much pain the majority of the time for Simon to step away too long. She’s been so patient with them. She runs around the yard excitedly while he throws the ball a few times to get her energy out. Some outside time will tie her over until he can take her for a proper walk.
The weather’s nice today. Johnny will be disappointed he missed out on so much sun.
Simon turns on his heel to go up and get the water started. They installed an extra large tub not long after moving in. Baths together were a small luxury back in the day - cramming both of themselves into shitty hotel tubs and the base housing showers. They never quite fit - usually Simon’s leg would end up hooked over the side of the bath. Or Johnny’s. Working the man open and loose after a long, hard mission-
He stops that thought I’m it’s tracks. That’s not the line of thinking for today.
Simon settles Johnny in first thing. He’s lighter than he used to be. That extra layer of muscle worn down and away over all that time in hospital and in physical therapy. That scared Simon, at first. The idea that Johnny had become another fragile thing for him to ruin. Something he could break.
It was a selfish thought.
The water is hotter than Simon would usually like as he climbs in, but it’s based on Johnny’s preference. Plus it relaxes his muscles - the stinging in his nerves from misfires in his brain. The tremble in his hands.
Simon takes it all in, gently dragging his knuckles over Johnny’s perfect cheekbone. The tender motion no longer feels foreign, which is strange in and of itself.
“Comfortable?” He asks.
Johnny hums and nods.
They stay quiet while they sit. Johnny always seems to glow in the morning light. Angelic. If Simon were better with words he’d write poems. He tried a few times, though he’d never admit that out loud.
The closest he got were his vows (still not good enough). Nothing can encapsulate what it is to love John MacTavish.
“I worry.” Johnny sighs, pulling Simon from his thoughts.
“Bout what?” Simon turns toward him, lowering his reading glasses.
“The baker. She’s all alone over there y’know?” Johnny sighs.
Simon hums. His big hearted boy. “Y’should be worried about yourself.”
Johnny scoffs. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, cause you’re ‘opped up on goofberries.”
“Oh shut the fuck up.” Johnny laughs.
“C’mere.” Simon turns him so that Johnny’s back is against his chest, grabbing one of the extra shampoo bottles to scrub down his hair.
“Thinkin’ about getting’ rid of the mo-hawk…” He murmurs.
“Don’t you dare.” Simon blurts before he realizes, face heating at the admission. Johnny just laughs at him again.
“It’s no’ very dignified. Doesnnae scream grown-man-in-his-thirties.”
“No. But it screams Johnny MacTavish. ‘ow else am I goin’ t’find you in a crowd?”
“Fair point.” Johnny tilts his head back to look up at his husband, grinning. “More hair fer ye tae grab, though. Proper handle.”
Simon huffs. “See, now that’s just playin’ dirty.”
“Simon Jr. likes it.”
“Please stop callin’ it that. It’s been bloody fuckin’ years.”
“Never.”
Simon rolls his eyes. By the end of their exchange the water has started to get cold. He gives himself a very bare minimum scrub down - the perks of having buzzed hair - before climbing out to grab them towels and fresh pajamas.
Before all of this he’d never considered the importance of comfortable clothes. Layer-able. Soft. Breathable. Easy to maneuver in on a bad day when Johnny can hardly walk - though it hasn’t been that bad for a long while. Strange how needs change and fluctuate.
“D’you want to go downstairs or stay up ‘ere?” He asks, patting Johnny dry while he sits on the side of the tub.
“Definitely down.” Johnny nods decisively, wincing at the motion.
“A’right.” Simon scoops the man up bridal style. Back in the day he would’ve thrown Johnny over his shoulder with ease. These days he has to move slower, keeping Johnny steady so as not to jostle his head and irritate his pain. It’s been good, he thinks, to practice gentile touches for the first time in his life.
It’s easy to settle Johnny onto their large, L-shaped couch. To set him up on a throne of blankets and pillows that envelope his frame entirely. They throw on some rom-com as low background noise. It’s not long before he falls asleep, the medication finally fully taking effect and sending him into one of those deep sleeps that will last until his next dose around lunch.
Simon glances over to Johnny’s peacefully sleeping face. Lips parted, quietly snoring.
Might as well get his call done now while the man’s well and truly passed out.
“The prodigal son returns.” Price announces loudly on the other end of the phone.
“Y’talked t’ me last month.” Simon scoffs.
“Ach, well, have t’ give you some shite here an’ there. Gotta tap down that ego.” He sighs. There’s an edge to his voice despite the attempt at a playful tone.
“Y’sound tired, Cap.” Simon settles into the couch, keeping his voice low.
“You’re no better.” The old man grouses. His voice has only gotten grittier over time, though he won’t admit it to be the cigars’ doing “How’s he doin’?”
There’s always a hint of guilt in his voice when he asks. Even four years later, he can’t let it go - can’t forgive the damage done to Johnny. The best of them. None of them could ever blame him for it. There isn’t any blame to be had.
“Alright.” Simon shrugs to no one. “Bad day today but he’s been better on the whole.”
“Good.” Price sighs. There’s a creaking noise - like he’s settling back into an office chair. “You solid?”
Simon huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Got a new bakery in town. That was enough to have the area properly twitterpated all week.”
“Any good?”
“Actually, yes. Johnny’s taken a shine to the owner.”
“That boy would take a shine to a black hole.”
“Ah, you’d like ‘er. Soft little thing - that’s your whole deal innit?”
Price splutters, Simon laughs. It’s the only thing that can get the Captain off kilter. Throw a live grenade at the man and he’s steady as a rock; mention anything about his love life and he’s no better than a flustered teenager.
There’s a pause.
“Kyle is up for Lieutenant.” Price says.
Simon freezes, swallowing roughly. It’s not that he’s not happy for Gaz - hell the boy deserves it more than anyone - but his thoughts go to Johnny. How he’ll react. He’s been doing so well, these past several months. The news could make him spiral… or he could take it perfectly fine.
It’s a fifty-fifty.
“Yeah, I was worried about how Soap would take it, too.” Price sighs. “Figured I should tell you first.”
“He’ll be fine…He’ll be fine.” The repetition is more to convince himself, really. Simon shakes his head. “Might wait to tell ‘im until ‘e feels better, though.”
“Probably for the best.”
Simon hums.
“How are you doing, Riley?”
“Fine.”
“Y’sure?” Price knows him too well, Simon thinks. Knows how much the military meant to him - how much he needed it.
“I’ve got Johnny.” Simon looks wistfully at his husband, still snoring on the couch in his mass of pillows and blankets. “What else could I ever need?”
Price laughs - loud and full bodied. “You’ve become a sap in your old age, eh?”
“Who’s callin’ who old, here? You’re practically a bloody fossil.”
“Oi, watch it.”
“S’good to talk t’you, Cap.” Simon sighs, sinking further into the couch.
“You too, kid.” Price sighs as well. “I’ve got to go but… do you want me to let you know when Kyle’s ceremony is?”
Simon clicks his tongue. “Yeah. As much as I hate the pomp and circumstance.”
“We all do.”
“Yeah.”
“Take care of each other.” Simon can practically see the way Price is most likely nodding along to the words.
“Always.” Simon nods. He rests his head on the back of the couch, tossing his phone off to the side and staring up at the ceiling.
If he thinks about it too hard - about the SAS and Price and Gaz… that whole life - his chest begins to ache. The military saved him, in many ways. The military gave him his greatest love despite all the fear and strangeness that came with that.
Simon looks over at Johnny’s sleeping form.
He’s worth it.
He’s always been worth it.
Between the three month long coma - the even longer physical therapy - Johnny’s been through hell, to say the least. Truly came back from the dead. What is it, in the grand scheme, for Simon to have to make a career change in order to grasp onto this second chance?
Who knows if he would have even been able to stay in the military if Johnny died. He’d break, surely. He broke the first time Johnny crashed. Fractured upon the second. Died with him on the third.
His therapist says it’s not good for him to romanticize and aggrandize that kind of trauma. She’s probably right but there are worse ways to frame it.
They’re both broken. They’re both healing.
His thoughts drift to you as all things seem to recently. Why do you always seem so sad? Your eyes a far more tired than your age would suggest - the eyes of a woman on her deathbed and ready to go. He’s seen that look too many times in his own reflection not to know it by heart.
He’ll check on you when he goes to the shop tomorrow. For Johnny’s sake.
~~~
“Simon! How are you?” You smile wide. Always smiling. It’s not bright, like Johnny’s, though. There’s a pull at the edges. It doesn’t always reach your eyes.
“Fine.” Simon says more gruffly than he means to.
You swallow nervously. He can tell he makes you uncomfortable. Squirrelly. You don’t shrink away, though. Brave little thing, he thinks. “Uh, Johnny stay home today?”
He nods solemnly. “Migraine started up yesterday.”
“Oh, I hate that.” You frown. So genuine. “I’ve got some extra white bread. Easy on the stomach. I could-“
“That’s kind, but not why I’m ‘ere.” He cuts you off. It’s rude, yeah, but he’s seen the way you can chatter and has a point to get to.
“O-oh?” You squeak.
He steps closer, setting a little sticky note on your counter with two numbers messily scrawled across it, each labeled as his and Johnny’s. Maybe he should’ve gotten Johnny to write it. At least his twos and sevens don’t look alike. “Johnny mentioned you were woozy, when you first met. Said you have a thing.”
You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head. “And?”
It’s defensive. Your shoulders are more square than before, lips slightly pursed and arms crossing over yourself involuntarily. It looks wrong on you, if he’s honest.
“And you don’t seem t’ ‘ave anyone around to look after you.” Simon continues bluntly. “If you need anythin’ you give us a call.”
Your expression morphs into surprise, then bashfulness. He takes it in categorically just like everything else. “Th-that’s really sweet… you don’t have to-“
“It’s only right.” He cuts you off again.
It is. You’re a young woman all alone in a new country with some sort of illness. Something chronic based on Riley’s alert. Simon might be cold but he isn’t heartless - not anymore, at least. Johnny saw to that. Even if he doesn’t know what it is, even if you’re obviously smart and independent, there are too many variables for his or Johnny’s liking.
Simon doesn’t know how to interpret the look you give him. It’s grateful. Soft in the same way as when he gave you that little cut of beef. There’s something else on the edges - not quite desperation. Not quite fear. Something that furrows your brow minutely and has your eyes flicking wildly between his.
You’re afraid of an ulterior motive.
“Take care.” Simon nods once, turning on his heel to leave.
“W-wait-“ He feels a tug on the sleeve of his hoodie. When he turns your eyes are wide, shining. “I… uh…”
“Yes?”
You bite your lip, a consistent habit if the chapped skin is anything to go by. You pull your hand back quickly, pressing it to your chest. “S-sorry, never mind…”
Simon doesn’t press. He never does. Far be it for a man like him to try to force secrets out of someone. So, with another good-bye and a nod, he makes his way out of the shop and starts toward the car to go home. At least, he should.
Instead he stops a little way down the street. Far enough he can still see into your shop without you noticing him. He watches the way you pick up the paper carefully, cradling it in your soft fingers. The way you frown at it, taking a deep breath before pocketing it and disappearing into the back of the shop. He can’t place what compels him to watch you. What keeps pulling them both in.
When he pushes the door open, he expects a quiet house. Dark and silent as Johnny sleeps his pain away upstairs. Instead, he’s greeted with the sounds of pots and pans and Johnny’s voice echoing down the hall - singing along to Celine Dion (though he’d never admit to it if asked).
“Johnny?” Simon turns to corner.
“Och, welcome home!” The Scot shoots him a grin over his shoulder.
“You should be in bed.” Simon kicks off his boots and meanders to the kitchen.
“A man cannae cook fer his husband?”
“Johnny.”
Johnny turns, grinning wide. “I’m fine, Si. Really. Trust me.”
Simon sighs, stepping forward and resting his hands on Johnny’s waist. “I trust you. Y’know that. I just worry.”
“I ken, I ken.” Johnny chuckles, planting a series of kisses across Simon’s face.
Simon sighs, leaning against the kitchen counter while Johnny gets back to cooking. So domestic. Still so strange that this is their normal.
“Kyle is up for Lieutenant.” It comes out in a jumble - more uncertain than Simon is used to.
Johnny pauses, hand flexing around the spatula in his grip. It’s so brief you could almost miss it before going back to sautéing the vegetables in the pan. “Good. He deserves it.”
Simon hums, watching, waiting for a reaction. Eyeing his husband with all the scrutiny he can muster. “Price invited us to the ceremony.”
“Aye.” Johnny nods. “We should go.”
“Are… you alright with that?”
Johnny turns, a slight furrow in his perfect brow. “Why wouldnnae I be?”
Simon searches his face - tries to gather any evidence to the contrary. He finds none. Just a genuine look of confusion at what he said.
Good lad.
“We’ll go, then.”
“Hope there’s an open bar.” Johnny chuckles and turns back to dinner. Normal, casual, comfortable.
They’re both healing.
A/N: I’m not totally in love with how this chapter turned out but I’d rather get it out and get to the next than lose motivation bc I got stuck.
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jjunieworld · 22 hours
Text
UNDER THE CHERRY BLOSSOM TREE ˒˒ 최범규
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it’s confession day and you want nothing more than to receive a crush from your longtime friend, beomgyu.
pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ choi beomgyu x fem!reader 𓄷 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 yeonjun, soobin, and yeji from itzy
genre﹙📄﹚⸝⸝⸝ toothrotting fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining but you both are oblivious, highschool au ???
kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ literally watched beomgyu’s cover and music video and was struck by sudden inspiration and motivation and i just had to write something based off it! ❀ so here is a super cute little drabble in honor of beomgyu’s cover, i hope you enjoy!! all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡
∿ [ 1.7k ] ⋆ [ continue on to . . . masterlist ]
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today was a day you both loved and absolutely hated—confession day. the day where you confess your feelings to the one who you like most.
the hallways were giddy with excitement and you couldn’t help being lured to the feeling. everyone was alight with what the day could possibly behold. as you made your way to your locker to put your bag away, you heard various snippets of conversations:
“i’m scared to open my locker! what if there isn’t any note inside?” “—and he wrote for me to meet him on the football field after school!” “who do you think yeonjun will confess to? i heard from hana that he was eying her, but mina said the same thing!” “well i heard hana say that jake was going to confess to her today on the rooftop!” “—to meet near the school gates!”
a soft smile made its way onto your lips. confession day—at least the start of it—was always one that made you happy inside. you loved seeing other people finally confess their feelings to to each other. it was also fun for you and your friends to make bets on who would confess to who.
just as you reached for the lock of your locker, you friend yeji ran up to you with a thrilled expression, her black hair flying into her face as she came to a sudden stop. “it’s confession day!” she squealed repeatedly, brushing her hair out of her face and linking her arm with yours once you got your books out. “who do you think will confess to who later today?”
“apparently hana has many suitors,” you shrugged and the two of you giggled slightly as you walked the halls slowly to your homeroom. suddenly yeji turned to you, a playful grin lighting up her face with a scrunched nose. oh god, you thought, what is she about to say?
she tickled your side, making you squirm away with a laugh. “do you think beomgyu is going to confess to you today?” she asked. you swatted her hand away, heat creeping up your neck as you looked forward to try and hide how flustered the question made you. you shrugged again, hopeful smile curling your lips.
beomgyu sat at his desk surrounded by his two friends, yeonjun and soobin. he shifted a sealed envelope from hand to hand, “to y/n” written on it. the red striped tie and dark blue blazer of his uniform suddenly seemed so constricting. “—and tell me exactly what you wrote in the letter,” he heard the tail end of yeonjun’s sentence.
beomgyu had already told soobin just minutes prior and he sighed softly as he dragged his eyes up from the letter. nerves flowed through him as he recounted the letter again for yeonjun.
dear, y/n
would you meet me under the cherry blossom tree by the train tracks after school?
beomgyu
it was a very simple letter, really. beomgyu had wanted to give his confession in person to you rather than through a letter or any other means. yeonjun’s face contorted in thought. “maybe spice it up a little?” he suggested.
“i like it. it’s simple and right to the point. besides, he said he wants to confess in person,” soobin cut in before beomgyu could. yeonjun hummed before nodding slowly. “i guess it could work!”
just as yeonjun finished talking, the homeroom door opened. you and your friend—yeji, who he’s come to know of—stepped through; arms linked as you leaned into each other to whisper something he couldn’t hear. a low laugh emitted from you and beomgyu swore it was the prettiest, most melodic thing he has ever heard.
the sunlight from the open blinds of the classroom cascaded down onto your frame, illuminating you like you were on a stage. beomgyu just couldn’t believe how pretty you were. your eyes connected with his, that bright smile of yours still on your face, and you waved your hand slightly to wave at him. your bright smile turned sheepish as you quickly looked away and you and yeji made it to your seats.
from just one look, beomgyu could practically see your future together. he wanted to be yours and you to be his so desperately. he wanted to do simple day to day activities with you, like helping you with homework and putting your books into your locker. he wanted to take you to the movies and talk about what you decided to see and walk you home after, fingers just barely brushing past each other. you were just so cute.
“look at him, there’s literally hearts in his eyes,” beomgyu distantly heard yeonjun say. his eyes were still on you until fingers snapped in his face, startling him back to reality. soobin pulled back his arm with a laugh and beomgyu rolled his eyes. he glanced back to you briefly, small smile forming on his face before returning his attention back to his friends.
beomgyu looked down again at the letter in his hands. he had meant to put it in your locker this morning before you arrived, but chickened out at the last second. that’s why he was here, enlisting the help of his two idiot bestfriends to ensure everything goes off without a hitch.
soobin laid a hand on beomgyu’s shoulder and patted it comfortingly, “you got this, man! it’s so obvious that the two of you like each other!” yeonjun nodded in agreement. beomgyu sighed and tucked the letter under his books. he hesitantly let their words fill him with confidence and hope. i really hope she does, he thought.
you turned slightly and looked over your shoulder, just barely catching a glimpse of beomgyu. you turned back towards yeji with a lovesick smile. “it’ll happen, don’t worry! it’s so obvious that the two of you like each other!” yeji comforted you. you just sighed and directed the conversation to a different topic. i really hope he does, you thought.
when you were grabbing your bag from your locker, mid conversation with yeji, a small white envelope fluttered to the ground at your feet. yeji gasped as you bent to pick it up with wide eyes. yeji drew closer to you, hiding the letter from the view of the other students making their way towards the entrance of the school. “open it, open it!” she exclaimed.
with a deep breath you carefully opened the envelope that had “to y/n” written on it in familiar handwriting. carefully you opened up the delicate letter and read the contents, yeji beside you taking in every word as well. you froze in shock for a split second before a wide smile broke out onto your face and it took everything in you to keep from jumping up and down.
“he wants me to meet him under the cherry blossom tree by the train tracks…” you breathed lowly, shock still reeling you. you repeated yourself, each word getting louder as you turned and grasped yeji’s hands with excitement and almost crinkling the letter, “he wants me to meet him under the cherry blossom tree by the train tracks!”
you had gathered the attention of the students walking by and heat suddenly spread across your face and immediately calmed you down. unfortunately, just as you shrunk into your locker, your eyes briefly connected with beomgyu’s bestfriend and resident golden boy of your school—choi yeonjun.
he looked in your direction and you just barely managed to catch the smile he gave to beomgyu’s other bestfriend—choi soobin—and the words forming from his lips.
your grip on yeji’s hands tightened as you quickly pulled her towards the girls restroom. “oh my god!” she exclaimed and began jumping the two of you up and down. excited giggles left both of your lips and echoed off the walls of the restroom.
“oh my god,” yeji repeated, suddenly serious. “he means meet him now. you have to go, like, right now!” worry suddenly broke through all your emotions at the possibility of beomgyu thinking that you wouldn’t show. yeji started pushing you towards the door of the restroom.
“oh my god!” you worriedly repeated yeji’s words. in response, all she repeated was, “go, go, go!”
you booked it out of the restroom and out of the school, running all the way until you saw the familiar cherry blossom tree down the hill in front of where the school sat. distantly, you saw beomgyu’s figure waiting for you and you inhaled deeply as you made slow strides towards him. you held the letter close to your heart and tried to control your nerves the closer and closer you got to the tree.
at your incoming footsteps, beomgyu turned to you and you gasped softly and how beautiful he was. a flustered—and somewhat sheepish—smile spread across your face and you stepped just mere inches from where he stood. “i got your letter,” you said as you looked up into his eyes.
the falling cherry blossoms around beomgyu’s head and soft afternoon light framed him perfectly and it made you wonder just how lucky you were that you were the one he chose to confess to.
beomgyu opened his mouth, only to close it and have a matching sheepish smile overtake it. just as he went to open it again, a cherry blossom fell onto his head, caught in the dark strands of his hair. he looked up, just as you did as well, and you both chuckled. “can we start seeing each other?” beomgyu ask you quietly, plucking the flower from his hair and holding it out to you.
if it were even possible, your smile widened and you accepted the outstretched flower. from the corner of your eye saw yeji, yeonjun, and soobin huddle together behind a bush directly across from the two of you. yeji nudged them out of the way to get a good look but accidentally ruffled some of the leaves of the bush. you saw the three of them drop down quick as lightning behind the bush before you or beomgyu could see them.
you nodded and softly spoke, “i would really like that.” a toothy grin spread on beomgyu’s lips. finally, the one he adored the most was his.
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wonhaz · 2 days
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what are we after the grand prix? - l.hs
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pairing : f1driver!heeseung x fem!reader genre : mercedes driver heeseung, best friends au, angst, fluff, unrequited love wc : 2.2k warnings : kissing, eating, speeding (cars), skinship synopsis : heeseung invites you to one of his races, determined to win and impress you. but when you confront him and ask him what the two of you are, he confesses his love for you. will you return his feelings? he'll have to wait for your answer after the grand prix. a/n : first part of the series! hope u guys like it~ heeseung gives off major mercedes vibes, i feel like he would be chill like lewis hamilton maybe? not completely sure if i'm happy with this one but here you go! next parts coming soon! SERIES MASTERLIST
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heeseung was confusing, more confusing than all those buttons on his steering wheel.
sure, he was your best friend, but sometimes it felt like he was more.
friends don't hug each other the way heeseung hugs you before a race, friends don't wink the way heeseung does at you before he puts on his helmet, friends don't look at each other the way heeseung does at you as he stands on the podium. but heeseung does it anyway, and it leaves you confused.
"you busy next weekend?" heeseung asks as you both sit on the couch of your apartment. "no, why?" you reply, raising an eyebrow, "i was wondering if you wanted to come to singapore with me to watch the grand prix, specifically to watch me." he says, emphasizing the word 'me'. you pretend to think about it taking the opportunity to annoy him.
"will sunghoon be there?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows imitating a lovestruck fan. heeseung rolls his eyes, "come on (name), i'm way better than that red bull driver, park. if you come i'll beat him for sure." he says with confidence. "alright, i'll come. but how am i getting there exactly?" you question, "don't worry about it babe, just be outside your apartment on thursday at 9am and i'll pick you up."
heeseung was confusing, like how he called you 'babe' just now, friends don't call each other that.
~
it's thursday. you haven't seen heeseung all week, he was probably busy with training and pre-race preparations. all he sent you was a text reminding you to be ready at the agreed time. you glance down at your watch, '8:55' the people passing by on the sidewalk pay little to no attention to you.
that is, until heeseung pulls up in front of you in his black mercedes benz. you have to stop your jaw from dropping at his entrance, now everyones looking at you, how can this get more embarassing? and just as you think that, heeseung rolls down the window, "come on! get in already, we're gonna miss the flight!"
you wince and quickly throw your suitcase in the trunk and hop in the passenger seat before turning towards him. "heeseung! what was that for?!" he tilts his head to the side, "what was what for?"
"that!" you say exasperated, "picking me up in the flashiest car possible and then drawing more attention by rolling down your window!" heeseung just shrugs and now you're really in shock, "we have a flight to catch." is all he says as the car starts zooming through the streets. "don't speed! we're going too fast!" you say as you're gripping onto any handle you can find. "you're saying that to me?" heeseung replies with a laugh. "you're telling a race car driver not to speed? you're real funny (name)."
you arrive at the airport and follow heeseung to your gate. he finds his team and introduces them to you, his team principal smiles and shakes your hand, "nice to finally meet you, (name). you're heeseung's girlfriend right? he does talk about you quite a lot."
you're taken aback, heeseung talks about you a lot? "oh, he does? i'm not his girlfriend though." you say with an awkward laugh. "oh, you're not? sorry i assumed. forget i said that." and you nod.
you board the plane and take a seat next to heeseung. your seat is extremely nice, you play with the buttons to adjust your seat and browse through the different movies on the tv. heeseung sees you and laughs, "first time in first class?" he asks. "it is obvious?" you say with a sheepish grin, "very, i should take you with me to races more often then." heeseung says and leans back. do friends say that? you didn't know, but you do know that a friend wouldn't make you blush like how you are now.
~
after the flight, all you can think of is heeseung. he was your best friend, and you were here to support him, but he made you feel like you were more than just his best friend.
the words from his team principal still lingered in your mind, you didn't know what to think of it. heeseung talks about you a lot? you were flattered, you feel the blush creeping onto your cheeks again just thinking about it.
a knock on your hotel door snaps you out of your trance. you already knew who it was. "come in", and there he is in all his glory. the very man that can't seem to leave your mind.
"wanna go get dinner?" he asks and you give him a small nod, getting up from the bed. halfway through your journey to the lobby, you realize it's just the two of you. "hee, what about the rest of your team?" you ask. "they went out together, i told them i wanted to take you to dinner." "oh.." is all you can get out, and you stay silent for the rest of the walk.
you're taken aback when heeseung puts his arm around your shoulder as you walk to a nearby restaurant. you give him a confused look, "what's wrong? i thought you were cold?". you were cold, you just didn't want to admit it, but heeseung knew you too well.
heeseung leads you inside a nice looking restaurant, one look at the menu has your jaw dropping at the prices. "pick whatever you want, i'll pay." he reassures you with a smile after seeing your expression.
the dinner starts in silence until heeseung breaks it. "how are you so far? i hope the hotel is comfortable enough." you're in shock, the hotel is more than comfortable, it's luxurious. you nod and tell him about how 'fancy' everything is.
as heeseung eats, you can't take your eyes off him. he feels your gaze on him and looks up smiling. "am i that good-looking you can't focus on your food?" he says with a laugh. here comes the blush again, and you shake your head defensively.
heeseung was making you look at him differently now. you don't think you and heeseung are just friends anymore.
~
heeseung walks you to your room, it's getting late and he has practice tomorrow. before you walk in your room, you turn to face him.
you had to know.
"heeseung-" you start, he only hums in reply.
"what are we?"
heeseung is caught off guard by your question but keeps his calm facade.
"what do you want us to be?" he asks and now it's your turn to be speechless.
"i-i don't know..." you admit, slightly embarrassed you had even brought up the topic.
"(name)-" heeseung starts, he pauses for a while, trying to find the right words.
"(name), i've liked you for a long time, not as friends but as something more. you're like the gas that fills me with joy, even when i've just had a bad race. you make me feel all these things that i didn't even know i could feel. all i know is that i'm happy when i'm with you."
you open your mouth to speak but nothing seems to come out.
"i don't expect you to give me your answer now. but please, let me know after the grand prix this sunday. take your time for the next few days, i want a sincere answer, even if it may hurt me, i'm ready to face it."
you're at a loss for words, the passion and love in heeseung's voice tells you that he's kept this to himself for so long. you give him a small nod and motions for you to get going before it gets too late.
just as you're about to close your hotel door, you hear his voice call your name again.
"(name), don't worry about coming to watch practice and qualifying, use it to rest or go around the city. i just want you to be there for the grand prix."
you promise to be there and give him a small smile before finally closing your door.
~ it's saturday, the grand prix.
you have your answer and you're sure of it, and most of all, you're ready to tell heeseung after the race. heeseung had left before you, not wanting you to get shaken up from all the reporters and fans watching him. you made sure to text him a simple 'good luck!' message to which he reacted with '🤍'. making your way down to the paddock, you spot his team principal and he greets you pulling up a chair for you. you look around, eyes searching for heeseung. "he's at an interview." his team principal says, as if he just read your mind. you just mouth an "oh." and take a look at the things around you, being careful not to touch anything. you see heeseung's car, with a big number "1" on it, and as if on cue, he walks in running his fingers through his hair. you couldn't help but stare, oh you were doomed.
heeseung sees you and grins from ear to ear, he looks you up and down, admiring your outfit, clad in his team colors. "heeseung-" you start and his intense stare into your eyes make you want to melt. "i have my answer, but i'll tell you after the race." and he nods, smile never leaving his lips. "i'll win for you." he says as he zips up his race suit and climbs into his car, giving you a little wink before he drives off to the starting grid.
heeseung drives into the 2nd grid position, eyeing the red bull beside him. park sunghoon hears the car pull up next to him and decides to test heeseung's patience. "hey, heeseung!" sunghoon shouts. earning a glare from him. "what do you want sunghoon." heeseung roles his eyes. "ready to lose today?" "hell no, i got a girl in the paddock to impress", heeseung says, diverting his attention to the lights in front of them.
heeseung is determined to win, determined to win for you. the race goes by fast and you had to admit, you didn't really understand how all of these racing things worked. but you did know one thing, and it's that heeseung was going to do anything to win. halfway through the race, heeseung pits and the crew immediately rushes around his car. within a few seconds, heeseung and his fresh set of tires are ready to go. but before he zooms off, he gives you a little wink and you feel the tips of your ears turning red. 55/57 LAPS things were getting heated down at the track, sunghoon and heeseung racing as if their lives depended on it. heeseung was practically gritting his teeth, he just needed to overtake sunghoon, to cross that finish line first, to win for you. during the last turn, heeseung takes his chance and cuts in front of sunghoon. heeseung's whole team stands up in anticipation and shouting at the screen in front of them. the team cheers as heeseung zooms past the checkered flag and commentators going crazy. heeseung gets out of his car, and raises his arms towards the crowd as they cheer. but now, he's more nervous than he was at the beginning of the race, he's nervous to hear your answer. as heeseung walks back to his team, sunghoon walks over to him and pats his back. "go get that girl." he says, and smiles. heeseung smiles and gives sunghoon a small nod. you stand in front of the team garage, heeseung walking towards you, his eyes never breaking eye contact. this was it, it was time to give your answer. "(name).." heeseung starts and takes a deep breath "remember that whatever your answer is, i love you, and i respect your decision." you stare into his eyes with your loving ones. lunging towards him and engulfing him in an embrace. he doesn't say anything, but you can feel his heartbeat as he savors your embrace. you're the first one to pull away but your arms never leave their position wrapped around him. 'heeseung, i love you too, so so much." and that's all it takes for him to pull you into a kiss, a kiss of longing, and impatience. it may have taken a while, but heeseung thinks it's worth the wait. sunghoon watches from his garage and he smiles at the new couple, his team principal makes his way to stand beside him and looks at what sunghoon is looking at. "you could've won, why didn't you defend your position?" his team principal says, furrowing his eyebrows. "come on man, had to let they guy win. but now i think he's won twice, he's won the race and that girl's heart." heeseung makes his way up the podium when they announce his name. his team below him is smiling up at him, but the only eyes he looks for are yours. he gives you a little wink and you blush. heeseung usually likes to go fast. but with you, he wished time slowed down a little more.
please reblog, it really helps!
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keen-li · 1 day
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MR RIGHT YOU CAME AT THE WRONG TIME | jjk
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18+ MDNI
synopsis: after accidentally switching bags, you end up finding your ways to each other and returning them to each other. But little did you realize that wasn't the last you'd be seeing of him.
song: find me by sigma ft birdy
Jungkook x reader
wc: 12.4k [damn i never thought id write this much before]
genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, smut, angst. (I would say it's kinda a forbidden love, but I don't know you tell me)
warnings: (I don't like writing warnings cause it kind of gives some stuff away, but I feel it's kind of necessary here), so we have cheating, letting a stranger into your home, unfaithfulness, lying, double lives. smut. [I'm kinda lazy at adding warnings but these are the general ideas]
note: if you can't swallow or read the idea of cheating and lying please DON'T READ. Sorry for any typos.
_-_
You tap aggressively on your laptop keyboard; you're trying to get this report done and today seems like the perfect time. You're sat in a café, the sun is setting (making the perfect aesthetic), it's showering a bit outside and you have your favorite sandwich and latte by your side to warm you up. What more can you need.
After an hour you decide you've written enough and you need to get going, plus the cafe's closing soon. So you shut off your laptop and place it into your tote bag. Before you leave you decide to use the bathroom. You leave your tote bag on your seat and carry your little handbag to the bathroom with you.
"Can you watch this for me?" You ask the person who was sat on the other seat of your table, and after they agree you leave to the bathroom.
While you're in the bathroom a man stops to speak to the person who was sat at your table.
"Can you watch this for me?" The young man asks and they nod in agreement.
He places his tote bag right next to yours, in too much of a hurry to pay attention to the other tote bag that was sat there that's exactly the same and rushes to the bathroom.
"Yeah I know, i wish you could be here too" you speak rushed through the phone. "no I won't be alone mark's gonna be with me"
The person on the other side continues to nag.
And in a hurry hoping you won't miss the train. So, you grab your tote bag without paying attention. You nod in appreciation to the person who doesn't even have their attention on you.
You quickly rush to the train station and get on a train back home.
Back at the café the young man grabs his bag and heads out too after giving his appreciation.
"I bet they weren't even watching it" He mumbles to himself.
And he's surely right.
-
"What the fuck, where's my lapto-" you exclaim as you dump out the contents of the bag. You run your hands through the emptied-out contents and pick up an ID card.
"Wait? This isn't even my bag" you come to the realisation. You should've realised that when you weren't met with the sweet flowery smell of your bag when you opened it. But now that you're staring at this ID you realise it's really not your bag. You thought someone stole your laptop but they stole your whole bag.
"Jeon Jungkook? The fuck" you exclaim as you eye his ID. You eye the little picture showing his face, damn.
You chuckle at how handsome he is. You scan through more of his documents and find a permit for a motorcycle, you lift your brows.
"Motorcyclist. Cool" you hum.
You snap out of the thrill of going through jeon Jungkook’s stuff when you realise you don't know how to get back your own stuff back.
You search for any phone number but you find none. You're growing a little frustrated now. He has no information in his bag that can help you locate him. You run your hands over your face and you sigh not knowing what to do. You wanna cry so bad, your laptop is in your bag. Shit, you wanted to complete your report when you got home, you've got to get it done tonight.
What the hell are you gonna d-
Your head snaps up when you hear a knock at your door. You drag your feet to the door and peep through your hole, you can't tell who it is cause they have a helmet on. You didn't order anything so you open the door, curious.
He turns to face you and speaks.
"Y/n?" The man asks, his voice muffled by his helmet.
You stare at him with a confused face.
"Did I order something?"
He mumbles an apology as he takes off his helmet. He brushes his hair back into a more presentable position and you take in his facial features. Time slows down like in the movies as he arranges his hair, he's helping you debunk the theory that all Motorcyclists are unattractive.
You know his face, you've seen him before, somewhere.
"People always think I'm in delivery when I have my helmet on" he chuckles.
"Jungkook?" Your brain clicks where you've seen him from.
He smiles "looks like someone found my ID"  he tucks his helmet under his arm.
"I had to. I assume you went through mine if you found where I live"
"You got me there" He raises his hands in surrender. You laugh as you move out of the door way.
"Wanna come in and do a formal exchange?"
"Yeah sure"
Jungkook walks in and can't help his eyes from wondering. Your apartment is nothing too exciting, it's boring he thinks.  But it's not like his is any better, if you stare closer into his apartment you'd find some unpacked boxes that he hasn't bothered to unbox and just stares at since he moved in.
But your apartment smells great.
You walk into your kitchen and internally slap yourself.
"Wow, looks like you did more than find my ID" he exclaims as he puts his helmet and your bag on the table.
"I'm so sorry, got a little frustrated" you rush around to pack his things that you left all over your counter back into his bag.
"I can't blame you, had a little fun with your stuff too. I even tried your cherry lip balm. Might get it for myself too" he puckers his lips and you eye him hoping he's joking. You take it as the time to admire his lips and you catch yourself before you're staring for too long.
"Did you really?" You ask sternly.
"If I did would you be mad?" He raises his brow maintaining his comedic and warm personality.
"Well yeah, I barely barely know you" you emphasise. Which is weird that you let him into your house even though you barely know him.
He nods knowing that it would be weird to try a stranger’s lip products.
"Well, I'll have you know that I had my own cherry lip balm"
"Seriously?"
"Yeah why do you think my lips look so good" he sends you a kiss which you dodge and you both laugh at.
"Never thought I'd find a guy who wears lip balm" you walk to your fridge.
"Yeah guys need to start moisturising their lips, makes it easier during kissing"
You ignore he's comment and jungkook thinks he might have over stepped it, which you wouldn't agree to but you wouldn't disagree.
"Do you want something to drink?" You ask staring at` him from your fridge.
"Yeah sure"
You walk over and hand him a beer.
"I almost forgot, I got you this" you knit your eyebrows confused about what he might have forgotten to give you, you don't even know eachother.
You watch him reach into your bag and you stare at him questionably.
You closely monitor as his hand pulls out a little box which you recognise is from a bakery. Your confusion grows even stronger.
He pushes the box to you and you reluctantly take it and open it. It's a little cake slice.
"Why-"
"I saw on your ID that it was your birthday so I thought I'd get you that"
You blush at his kind gesture. You didn't get to celebrate your birthday, you don't care though  but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. Your sister is in another country while your boyfriend is... you don't even know where he is actually. You were supposed to spend the day together but he bailed and so you decided to spend your night alone and do your report at  the café and finish it at home. But you couldn't cause of this inconvenience. You wouldn't call jungkook an inconvenience though, right now he was a making your birthday something memorable.
"Thank you" you smile gently.
"No problem, but were you going to spend your birthday night by yourself?" He asks trying to lighten the mood with his charming tone. "Did you do anything exciting today?"
"I went out with my friends for lunch" you remember.
Jungkook nods.
"But that's not enough, you can't spend your birthday night alone."
You chuckle at his enthusiasm to lighten your mood.
"I'm fine jungkook, this cake is enough for me" you hold the little box closer to you.
"Let's order some food and watch a movie" he pulls out his phone "that would be fun. Would you like that?" He stares waiting for your consent.
"I assume you've got a TV" he pauses to look at you.
"Yeah i do" you chuckle " and I wouldn't mind" You say wondering if it's the right choice to allow a stranger to stay any longer in your house. Jungkook didn't seem like a threat though he seemed quite like comfort to you. 
-
"How did you find my apartment anyways" you ask  in-between bites.
"Oh that was easy" he says as he takes his time to chew and swallow.
"Well I got your address from a document in your bag and when I got here all I had to do was say i was a friend of yours and showed them your ID"
You're stunned by the information.
"So they'd just let some random to my apartment"
"I'm not some random" he sounds offended.
"Then what are you, my friend?" You lean in closer to his face to mock him.
"I can be" his voice lowers as he leans in closer to you, also mocking. You stay looking at each other like that. Your eyes fall deep into his and so do his into yours. You pull back from your thoughts when you notice jungkook look at your lips.
"I think we should stay off the beers" you chuckle leaning back into your side of the couch. Jungkook at the other end of the couch leans back too,  seemingly agreeing with your statement.
Jungkook stretches his hand to your table to grab his can and emptying it down his throat.
"You know I didn't even notice you had tattoos" you say after sometime gawking at his tattooed arm.
He stretches his hand out and gawks at it too.
"How didn't you notice?"
"To be fair i didn't even notice you had even taken off your jacket" you take a dry swallow as you turn away from his gaze.
"Oh I took it off a while back" he eyes the black t-shirt he has on. "Wanna take a closer look?" he says hoping you say yes.
"Sure, I have a kin eye for art" you say moving closer to jungkook's side of the couch.
"Says the person who has such a boring apartment" he mocks
"You know what I'd loooove to see your apartment" you defend back as you lean your elbows on your couch head.
"I bet you would" the statement comes off a little sensual but you don't mind. You've gotten so comfortable with jungkook so fast, but he makes you feel comfortable more than anyone has. You've never found someone to tease and who can tease back, it's fun to have someone to have a progressive conversation with.
And now that you're staring at jungkook's arm you get to see and know a little more about him.
"Did these hurt?" You ask softly
"Not really. I've got a really high pain tolerance" he states proud of himself.  He watches you intently as you eye each ink and drag your finger over them.  You seem to forget that you're dragging your finger over his skin which causes him to feel every sensation of your touch.
"You must be great for bdsm" you say harmlessly. You say really random shit when you’re comfortable and slightly buzzed.
Jungkook almost chokes at your forwardness, but he doesn't let you in on his shock.
"Wanna find out?" he says and you choke on the air you suck in, a blush forms on your cheeks and you hope jungkook can't see it. He smiles seeing the effect he's comment has on you. He likes it.
"I'm just joking" he flicks your chin trying to establish he's playfulness. You’re disappointed cause you'd really like to find out, and you're not sure if he really meant it or he was seriously joking.
Being drunk around a hot man is not the best for you.
"You're sad?" You widen your eyes at his statement.
"What?" He lifts your chin to look at him. You're close enough at this point that if jungkook moved slightly your lips would meet. You're okay with it though,  you're comfortable with this , you're comfortable with him.
You’re actually really hoping he kisses you.
"Why are you sad?" His voice is low as his eyes stare deep into yours, you can't seem to turn away from his gaze. You don't want to lose the feeling, the feeling of being pulled into an unexpected moment of bliss.
"I-im not sad" you fumble around your words a little nervous now that he's speaking.
"Well  you look like it" He scoots closer to you and places a hand in your thigh. He watches for your reaction and when you don't protest he cups your cheek.
"Want me to take you on a ride on my motorbike?"
"So that what? I die on my birthday?"
"You wouldn't die if you're on my bike" you scoff at him "do you think I'd let you?"
"I don't know would you?" You trace you hands through his hair.
"I wouldn't. You'd be safe with me" his words make your heart flutter.
Jungkook's eyes lower to your lips and before you can make any comment his  lips are on yours.
He takes it slow giving you a chance to say no if that's what you want,  but you don't instead you tug on his neck pulling him closer to you.
You should've pulled away and said no, i have a boyfriend  but you didn't,  you don't.
You don't want to stop, you don't want this to stop. 
You don't.
He doesn't.
And by the way he's pulling you onto his lap goes to show how he really doesn't want to stop.
You want to keep this feeling forever.
You never want the feeling of his hot, wet mouth on your neck to stop. You don't want the way his large hands roam your ass to stop.
And he doesn't want the way you grunt and moan into his mouth to stop,  he doesn't want the feeling of you tugging on his hair  ever stop.
Some people would condemn you to why you're making out with a stranger on your couch, and to those people this is no better than a one night stand from a club.
"Fuck" he groans into your mouth and you halt your hips.
"What?" you scan his face for any un-comfortability.
"Nothing , it just feels good" he tugs at your hips to keep going and you do.
Your mouths meet again and jungkook sucks you into him once more. You forget any rational thought.  All the rational thoughts you should be thinking of like; what about my boyfriend, I have a boyfriend, are far lost in the bliss.
It's one thing that your doing this while you have a boyfriend but it's another thing to drag jungkook into this. You need to tell him, he doesn't deserve this.
But you can't.
You can't tell him. You don't want him to look at you like a bad person (but you'll be one if you keep going anyways)
You don't want to ruin this new found friendship, this new found comfort.
You can't let this go but you can't drag jungkook in too.
"Wait"- you say placing your hands on his chest and he stops worried.
"What? What's wrong? Did I-"
You shake your head.
"No, you've done nothing wrong" you get off his lap "I just can't I'm sorry"
"Don't apologise it's fine" he sits up feeling the uncomfortability from his groin. "Just tell me what's wrong"
You wrap your hands around your torso.
"I just can’t"
"Come here" he says softly to try and comfort you. He tries to take you into his arms but you move away.
"If you wanna stay over you can, cause we're drunk" you try and comfort yourself for your actions. "I'm going to bed."
You walk away and jungkook doesn't say anything, but watch you walk away.
Maybe he’s gotten to comfort himself, he thinks. He’s a strander after all why is he acting like he’s known you for forever.
When you wake up you're gonna kill yourself for letting a stranger sleep in your house,  just because what? He makes you feel this new found emotion and comfort.
-
You wake up with the sun hitting your face. Your feet touch the ground as you walk to the bathroom to wash your face.  As you stare into the mirror you remember the events of last night.
Jungkook.
You rush to your living room and obviously he's not there when you get in. But he left you a note.
I think I forgot to give you this....
And a follow up is a set of numbers, which is probably his phone number. You should probably call him to found out if he's okay.
You pick up your phone to call him but you stop.
"What If he's asleep, it's probably too early" you turn on your phone.
"10 am?, damn what the fuck" you must have slept late last night and really knocked out.
You tap in jungkook's number and you walk around nervously as it rings.
Soon enough there's a voice that picks up.
"Hello" the voice speaks and you begin to wonder If it's jungkook, the voice sounds too professional. Maybe jungkook gave you someone else's is number as a joke.
"Jungkook?" You speak nervously.
"Y/n?" He recognises your shakey voice "Are you okay, did you sleep well?" He asks concerned.
"Oh, I'm okay.  I was calling to check on you." Your fingers tap against the counter. "You left with saying goodbye"
"I didn't want to to wake you, you looked so peaceful"
So he saw you asleep, you hope you looked atleast presentable.
"Plus I left you my number" he adds.
"Yeah well,  what time did you leave?" You bite you lower lip.
"I left quite early, at 5"
"What? did you atleast sober up?"
"Yeah a little" you hear him chuckle.
"A little? Don't tell you didn't let yourself sober up fully" jungkook can feel the lecture coming.
"Y/n I'm fine, I got home safe" he sighs.
"And what if you didn't, jungkook you could've gotten hurt" your tone gets more disciplinary.
"Well I'm fine, but if it makes you feel better I'll never do it again mommy"
You roll your eyes and his snarky joke.
"Well I don't believe you."
Jungkook sighs from behind the phone.
"Well if you don't believe me you can come check for yourself" his tone is low.
"Where are you?"
"I'm at work" he says bluntly.
"Jungkook!" You exclaim. "You were going to work the next day and you let me make you drink"
You hear him laughing.
"I'm good y/n. I handle my alcohol well" you scoff at his cockiness. "Plus I wouldn't have gotten to kiss you if I didn't"
You can feel that feeling in your stomach ignite again.
"About that jungkook I'm sor-"
"I have to go y/n but I'll talk to you later. Bye" he cuts before you can apologise and something in you wants you to believe that he did that on purpose. He doesn't want to hear you apologise.
-
"You didn't say uno so you gotta pick up" You exclaim, holding you cards for dear life.
"What stupid rule is that" he whines "I'm literally about to win" he continues to whine but instead you grin at him and nod for him to pick up.
"I'm not playing anymore, let's do something else" he drops his cards in defeat. One thing you've learnt about jungkook through these rounds of uno is that he doesn't like to lose and you enjoy beating him.
"Why? Afraid I'll beat you once again" you mock, he rolls his eyes as they watch you pack up the cards.
"No. It's just that I haven't seen you in two weeks, you think of want to spend the rest of the night playing uno"
You chuckle "You mean spend the rest of the night losing"
Jungkook scoffs ready to defend himself like a child. "I would've won if you didn't bring up that stupid rule"
"It's the rules jungkook" you shrug your shoulders.
"A stupid one" he mumbles.
You return to your spot on the floor with folded legs, after placing the box of cards back on the shelf.
"So what do you want to do?" You fold your hands over your chest feeling self conscious about how jungkook now has his focus on you. He notices your little actions and moves his eyes from your body to your eyes to make you feel less awkward. But it only makes your mind race more.
"Lets talk about you, about me. About our favourite things." He moves his legs to get more comfortable. "Get to know each other, you know?"
You let some silence linger as you wonder if it's a good thing to do. Will you be able to go back if you start getting to know him. But to be fair there's no way of going back after you let him into your apartment again.
"So you're telling me that you, y/n? were a pageant princess?" He gasps in disbelief , as he gawks at the picture of you in your pretty pageant gown with a tiara.
"Yeah I was, is it so surprising?"
"Yeah, you were so cute" he looks at you analysing your features "what happened" he furrows his brows.
You swing the photo book and he groans when it meets his skin with a hard smack.
"Ouch, I guess you lost the pretty face to a bad attitude" he says through groans.
"Hey!" You exclaim as you continuously smack him with the book. Jungkook holds your wrists to stop you and when you do stop, he forcibly pulls you closer to him and you almost fall on top of him.
He lowers his voice "Hitting me won't get your beauty back princess" you squint your eyes when he grins.
You move back but jungkook stops you by your waist.
"I hope you know I'm only kidding " you look down at him as his eyes try to convince you. " I happen to think you have retained some of your cuteness from childhood"
"Jungkook if you want to express how beautiful you think I am just do it" you tease.
He smiles "Okay then" he pulls you closer making you sit on his lap. "Well y/n I think you're a very beautiful and stunning"
You shake your head telling him you're not moved.
"Well I'm not done" he grins. " I also think that you've got a really gorgeous smile and I love the why you blush when you do" there’s more he’d want to add but might be crossing a bridge he won’t be able to go back on.
"i don't blush" you turn away from his gaze.
He turns your head back to him with his fingers "well tell that to your burning cheeks" he traces his finger over the apple of your cheek and it makes you want to blush.
You want to open your mouth and defend yourself  but jungkook beats you to it.
" if you're about to say how your cheeks aren't burning,  I can take you to a mirror right now."
You can't fight back cause you know he's right,  you can feel your cheeks burning.  You feel It all the time when he looks at you or when his skin touches yours. And also when he has his hands rubbing your ass like right now.
"You look pretty when you blush" he whispers against your lips and before they can meet you push away. He furrows his brows in confusion , you smile to which his confusion grows stronger
"Let's talk about you now" you whisper back.
You've been talking about yourself and you want to hear about what jungkook likes or dislikes , or any of his embarrassing stories. You already know he doesn't like to lose but you wanna know more.
"What do you wanna know?" His tongue grazes over his lower lip as he stares at yours when you speak.
"I wanna know why a guy like you is single"
Jungkook is taken aback by your question. He let's the lump in his throat drop down as you wait for his answer.
You really hope he doesn't turn the question back to you,  cause you don't think you'll be able to lie that you're single. You shouldn't even have asked him, you're now regretting bringing the question up. You want to shrug the question away but he speaks before you.
"A guy like me?" He questions " what kind of guy am i" he leans back to hear your reply.
Your mouth releases a little laugh as you reply.
"Uhhh" you suck in a breath between your teeth.  Jungkook stares at you encouragingly.
"A guy like you, warm. Approachable" he gives you a look of being unconvinced.
"You're really hot, great personality. There's a lot I want to say but I can't" you whine at being unable to describe him.  Jungkook is hard to describe cause he just makes you feel alot you can't fit him into a word.
"Why don't I help you find your words" he moves closer and his hands returns to you hips.
"How?" Your voice lowers.
You're curious.
You watch his eyes lower and his tongue graze over his lips. Your heart beat begins to quicken.
"Tell me how you feel when you see me" you stare at him, lost in his eyes. He pulls you back to earth with a squeeze of your hips and a chuckle.
"Tell me"
"Uhh, I feel... relaxed. Like I'm at peace you know" he nods
"I also fell free and comfortable.  I usually don't feel free to tell people things like I tell you" you and jungkook have been texting when you're not around eachother and in those texts you've shared some things that you haven't been able to tell your boyfriend (cause he says he's been busy).
You've shared with jungkook how much work has you stressed and he's been supportive and giving you some solutions. You wish you could express to jungkook how much you wish your boyfriend would pay attention to you and give you his time of day, but you know it'll probably mess things up.
You feel fucked up for feeling peace, joy and comfort in jungkook when you're supposed to feel that from your boyfriend.  You just wish your boyfriend would step up and maybe you wouldn't have to look for comfort in another man.
"Now tell me how you feel when I look at you"
You sigh feeling more relaxed to express what you feel.
"I feel seen, I feel noticed and uh" you find it hard to say what you want to.
"You can tell me" his voice softens as he rubs your skin comfortingly.
"I feel wanted" you lower your eyes and watch your fingers that play with each other.  Jungkook’s heart pumps and a smile forms on his face. If only you knew how much he thinks about you and how you have him wrapped around your finger. He’s not even sure how it’s possible to feel this way about someone so fast.
"I'm glad you feel that way. I want you to know that I do want you."
You lift your eyes to meet his warm ones that never stop admiring you.
"Cause you make me feel wanted too" he adds and your heart sinks. There's no going back from this. You can't believe you're being this selfish by dragging jungkook into your fucked up life.
"Jungko-"
"Now tell me how you feel when I touch you" you swear his voice has dropped 3 octaves deeper. He moves in closer to you to empathise.
"Tell me how you feel when my hands are on you, when I caress you and when I kiss you" he places a kiss on your jaw. Your body automatically opens up for him to move in.
"Tell me how it makes you feel" his voice vibrates against your skin and you wonder how the fuck you'll be able to open your mouth if it's not to release a moan.
"Y/n" he encourages you to speak.
"it feels good, it feels fucking good" you spit out "it's warm. It feels suffocating in a good way." You pause to catch your breath from his kisses.
"It feels like you mean it, like you want to"
"And I do, I mean it so fucking much and I want to so bad." His mouth moves to yours and he wants to kiss you but he waits.
"Do you want to?"
Fuck.
You don't know what to actually fucking say. You don't want to say no cause you do want it but you can't say yes cause you have a boyfriend who's innocent and jungkook who's innocent too.
You just wish you and jungkook met in different circumstances. You wish you met him earlier. But if you did would it have felt this good.
" jungkook i-" your voice is cut off by jungkook's phone ringing. He stands to pick It up but he doesn't answer. Instead he just sends a text. You have no clue of who he's  talking to but you honestly don't need to know.
"Uh, I have to go" he says picking up his stuff. He seems in a little bit of a rush, you wanna ask him why but you need your own excuse to not answer his question.
"Oh okay" you walk him to the door. Your goodbyes are awkward and you don't even know why. Well you know why you're being awkward but you don't know why jungkook's being awkward.
When you lay in bed you think of what jungkook said.
Do you want this.
It's an important choice to make, and even if you ignore it now its going to come up later. It's better if you end it now.
Maybe you should break up with your boyfriend.
Riiing.
Your ringtone startles you a bit as you pick it up. You sigh when you see the caller ID.
"Hey babe"
You watch his face light up at seeing you answer.
"Hii" you try and feign some type of joy. It's not that you're unhappy to see him, it's just that your situation has you detached and thinking. How can you be falling for a guy you haven't known for long,  when your boyfriend has been their for two years.
"We're you asleep?"
"No, i was just laying in bed"
"Good. I have a surprise for you" he smiles.
"What?" You sit up so he can have a good view of you.
"I booked us a trip to the island"
"What?"
"I got them for your birthday, but I needed to clear my schedule first, so we couldn't go then"
You feel a lump begin to form in your throat.
"But now we can. I know that I wasn't there for your birthday and I'm sorry. I know getting you flowers and a card isn't a good enough present from your boyfriend."
"Mark it's fine I don't mind" well on your birthday you did mind, but now that you've fucked him over, his fuck-up doesn't feel as bad as yours.
"No no, I should apologise. So take this trip as my apology"
"Do you wanna go?"
This feels like another pressured question again.
If you say yes to one question then you're saying no to the other and you don't think you're ready to answer any question.
-
"I missed this" mark says nuzzling deeper into your neck. Your hands, like a programmed machine,  running through his hair.
" I missed being in your arms" you don't even answer your mind is to clouded with thoughts. You haven't talked to jungkook for the past week. Mainly because you haven't answered his texts or answered his calls. Or even answered the door when he knocked. You thought it would help you make a decision but it hasn't. It only made you confused (and cry a little).  Especially for the fact that Mark has now been trying to get back into your good graces (not that you feel that you deserve it anymore) it just makes you even more confused.
"I really want to be a better boyfriend y/n you know?" He lifts himself up. "I really want to be better for you"
"Mark please" you try and stop him, you don't need him saying what he wants to say. It's not gonna help your case.
"I really love you and I want the best for us" he kisses your hands and your chest tightens. You can feel the lump in your throat grow and air slowly leaving your lungs.
" I just really love you " he kisses your hand once more and you break.
"Mark please don't say shit like that" you stand, moving away from the bed. He stares at you confused at the sudden outburst.
"Y/n, what's wron- and mark? What do you keep calling me by name. Are you okay is something wrong"
"Nothing's wrong" your voice shakes.
"No there's something wrong" he narrows his eyes and walks to you but you put your hands out and walk backwards.
"If its about the trip, I understand why you can't go. It was selfish of me to think of my own schedule and not yours too" he comforts you, but there's nothing comforting about it.
" I should have been better with my planning. But we can do something else just within so i can make it up to you."
"You don't have to make it up to me" The tears burn in your line.
" I do babe, I haven't been the best boyfriend, you know"
And you haven't been the best girlfriend too, you've been the worst. You've been the absolute worst.
"No you don't. You're not a bad boyfriend. I'm the bad one" you lower your head and the tears fall. Mark notices and walks to hold you. You don't fight back and just let him hold you as you sob.
" YN you're not a bad girlfriend. You're the best. The best i can ask for and the best I'll ever need" his words pulls at your heart.  You hate this so much, you've fucked it for the both of you.
You sob into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry"
"Don't be sorry. Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?"
-
"Jungkook where have you been" a soft feminine voice speaks as he places his bags down.
"Ivy, can i just get some sleep I've been busy"
Ivy follows jungkook to the bedroom.
"Speaking of work. I called in to your job the other day and they told you you haven't been doing overtime" she folds her arms of her chest. "So where have you been if it's not doing overtime"
"I've been working on person projects" he says not bothering to stare at her.
"So you've been inbetween your personal projects legs huh?" She spits and jungkook's jaw locks. He doesn't like to argue with her, nothing ever goes anywhere.
"You know jungkook, you can make your life easier" she walks closer to his now shirtless and towel wrapped body. "If you just marry me, my dad will give you the money and you can be with whatever whore your wanna be with after that." Jungkook's body tenses when she lays her hand on his chest.
"Just marry me kook" her green eyes stare at him deeply.
"I'm not going to marry you ivy and you know it" He pushes her hand away.
"Then why don't you just break up with me!" She snaps.
"How many times have i done that? You won't fucking leave" he runs his hands through his hair frustrated.
Now that ivy thinks that he's seeing someone else, he only hopes she doesn't want to dig deeper and find you.
"Why do you even want me? You can find me other dude who'd be willing to fucking deal with this arrangement, shit"
"Why are you saying this like you weren't in favour of this before"
"I don't love you anymore, get that through that delusional brain of yours" he can feel the vein in his head want to burst.
"You never say that when we fuck"
"We haven't had sex for more than a year"
"Yeah because of you" her voice rises an octave.
"And that's because I don't want anything to do with you"
He walks into the bathroom and she follows.
"Jungkook what happened to us? Mm"
He stills, watching the water run down.
"Maybe it was when you threatened me just so I can marry you" more like when he realised she's crazy.
"But that doesn't change anything "
"It's does for me. You can't do all that crazy delusional shit and expect me to marry you "
He drops his towel and let's the water trial down his skin.
"Maybe you never loved me" jungkook groans listening to her speak.
"Maybe you’re right." He sends a cold glare. "Now can you let me take a shower in peace"
He stands waiting for her to leave and when she does he turns back to his warm water.  And with every touch of water all he care to think about is you. He just wants to be in your presence right now to feel some peace. To feel your warm embrace and touch.
To take in your scent that haunts him, to hear your voice say his name and tell him silly stories. He love listening to your mumbles.
But back to reality.
He might have just fucked up, but if ivy finds out who you are she's not gonna let it rest.
-
"Jungkook what are you doing here" you ask surprised but a little glad.
"Hearing your voice on calls isn't enough for me" he steps closer to you and you let him in.
"I've missed you y/n"
"And I've missed yo-"
"Show me" in a flash you're against the wall and jungkook has you off the ground.  "Show me how much you've missed me"
You connect your lips and soon that indescribable feeling is back. That feeling you've been missing and that you've been thinking of everytime when your mind isn't busy with work.
"I've been thinking about you and this ever since the first day I saw you" he lays you down on your bed and places desperate kisses on your neck.
"That must've been very hard for you " you say moving your hands to drop his jacket.
"Very  hard" he whispers by your ear and the goosebumps on your skin increase even though the heat in the room is increasing.
Jungkook's hands roam your torso until they find your chest, with your pebbled nipples.
‘’plus you’ve been ignoring me, which just hurts even more’’ he says looking at your face softly.
‘’im sorry,’’ you say but he doesn’t respond.
"but it looks like it's been hard for you too" he mocks you.
"If only you knew"
Even though you were ignoring him, you were dying inside. You couldn’t imgine how much you were hurting and confusing him.
You wonder if it was anything close to you were feeling. You’ve honestly been lying to yourself. And even though it sounds and seems a little selfish, you don’t want to let jungkook go. Missing him hurts.
You greedily capture jungkook's lips, he doesn't fight.  He let's you take the lead in the kiss while he takes the lead in getting you undressed.
You hungrily explore each other's warmth. Jungkook's hands leaves hot trails wherever he touches.
Jungkook presses your lips together even harder to try and fill in for all the times he's thought about you during all these weeks  and the things he'd do.
Even though he doesn't want to, he detaches your lips so that you can catch your breaths. You both breath heavily taking in eachother's heat.
Next thing jungkook's shirt is on the floor and your hands are on his buckle.
"You look so beautiful " he says staring deeply at you. You start to feel a little self conscious and your legs close.
"What? are you getting shy now?" He smirks at you. His hands gripping your thighs to encourage them to open.
"Don't be shy" he hovers over you and places  a gentle peck on your lips, to make you comfortable.
He studies your face as the question that's been on his mind rings.
"Do you want to do this?" He asks softly. The question brings you back to the reality you had forgotten for a moment.  This bloody question, might cost you your sanity and it has, ever since it was asked. He's probably just asking about the sex part but the look in his eyes makes you feel more like a pledge.  A pledge to him, a pledge to yourself and a pledge to something between the two of you. And you don't even know if you're ready to make any pledges.
"I do" you say and jungkook doesn't let your mind think any further when he has his lips on you and has your legs wrapped around him.
You feel the ache between your legs grow stronger and all you want is jungkook. To make you feel like he always does. To remind you that he wants you and you alone.
And to remind you that you want him. You need a reminder. You need  reason, cause you think it's going to make you feel less guilty.
Now that that the sounds of moans and groans has died down and you're now cuddled up under your sheets, jungkook finds it has the perfect moment to ask you.
"Why have you been ignoring me?" He continues to rub your back you continue to sink even deeper in him.
It not that he's mad, its more like he's worried. He's just found something he doesn't want to lose, something he never wants to lose and he can't lose it.
"Did I do somethi-"
"No" You cut him off " You didn't do anything. I've just been going through a lot recently"
"Is it that coworker?"
"No, i had him dealt with" you both laugh.
"good" he places a kiss on the top of your head and it makes warmth spread all over your body. You blush really hard.
"Then what is it?"
You stay thinking for while if you should even ask your question.
"How did it end with your ex" you spit out and he just halts his breathing "I assume you have an ex." You look up at him.
"Yeah I do. We just fell out of it. Wasn't meant to be" he simply states. And that begins the saga of having to lie to you.
Jungkook didn't even want to bring anything about exes up hoping he doesn't have to start lying to you. But you've backed into a corner.
"And if we did start to date. Would we also just fall out" you lift yourself off his skin and the cold seeps in.
"Is this what this is about?" He waits for an answer but you don't give. "What my ex and I had can't compare to what we have"
"Which do you prefer? "
Jungkook chuckles as if mocking you for asking such a question.
"You of course. I'd fucking pick you over everything." His hand caresses your cheek. "I'd  pick you over everything and anything" he says against your lips.
"I just wanna be sure" You say softly feeling worry and guilt creep in.
"Sure about what?"
"That I'm making the right choice"
Jungkook doesn't say anything he just nods in understanding.
"Get ready" he abruptly stands and picks up his clothes.
You knit your brows "I'm taking you out" he says determined.
"What jungkook its 10 pm"
"Yeah it's still early. Get ready, I'll meet you at the entrance. "
You watch him walk out and you scoff. What the fuck has gotten into him.
You smile.
-
"Jungkook what the fuck have you got me doing" you say still not over the adrenaline and fear of being on his motorbike.
"Just come with me" he pulls you into a building and has your hand in his every single step as he makes his way. After pressuring him you find out that he's brought you to  karaoke bar.
"Jungkook why did you bring me here you know I can't sing" your legs follow him as he leads you to your karaoke room.
"I know that's why I brought you here"
You walk into the small room and your eyes can't help but look around you've been to a karaoke bar before but it's a little bit different when you're not with a group of screaming girls.
"Here's yours" jungkook hands you a mic. "Wanna go first"
"No you go first you're the one who brought me here"
"Okay. I just want to let you know it'll be an easy decision after the judges hear my voice" he smirks.
You roll your eyes at his cockiness.
You wouldn't pin jungkook as someone to like slow music but you also wouldn't pin him as someone who can sing. Guess there's more you need to know about him.
Jungkook sings out to his love song of choice. He passionately stares at you as he sings every word and you can't help yourself but smile widely. Fenty has nothing on the blush you have on now.
"If you wanted to serenade me you could've done it at home. You didn't have to drag me out into the cold night." You say as jungkook ends his serenade with kissing you on the forehead.
"I'm no basic, boring man sweetheart"
He surely isn't. He takes a seat in the little couch as he watches you sing now.
Unlike him you go for a more upbeat sing about how you're the girl of any man's dream.
After doing  your little dance and pointing at jungkook. Your song comes to an end and you throw yourself on the couch and into jungkook's arms that wrap around you warmly.
"You're definitely the woman of my dreams" he smiles down at you.
"I don't know who the judges are gonna pick now" you brush your nose against his.
"I don't know about them but I'd pick you" his hand moves to your hip.
"That's the only reasonable answer" you lean closer into him.
"Mhm" he closes in and your lips touch. You relish in the warm feeling and the hot touch he has on your skin.
You're too focused on eachother's mouths that you don't see the couple that notices you through the clear door.
"Is that jungkook?" The guy asks with furrowed brows. He eyes jungkook's tattoos a little longer.
"You know him?" His girlfriend asks.
"Yeah but who's the girl that with him? Cause that's not ivy"
And as if on cue you and Jungkook separate and your face comes into view.
"Y/n? What the heck is she doing here." His girlfriend exclaims this time.
" you know her ?" He stares at her.
" Yeah she's my friend  and that's not her boyfriend."
Her hand goes to the handle but her boyfriend stops her.
"Let me do it." He opens the door and calls out.
"Jungkook?" He calls out.
Jungkook turns to face the door and his heart drops when he sees his friend.
"Fuck" he mumbles " Taehyung what are you doing here?" He stands blocking you from taehyung's sight.
" I came from a date with my girlfriend , then I saw you and wanted to say hi to you and ivy. But I can see a whole lot of you and not a whole lot of ivy. what's going on bro?" He whispers.
Taehyung glances over you once.
"Can we talk outside?" He lightly pushes out the door. That's when your friend walks in.
You sat awkwardly on the chair as you wait for jungkook to finish talking with his friend. Even though you don't know what him and his friend are talking about you know that something is definitely not okay, and that feeling of guilt starts to bubble inside of you. Your face falls and heart drops to your ass when you see your friend walk into the room.
Now you're fucked.
"Y/n what are you doing here?" She laughs more in shock.
"Sana listen to me"
"I'm listening " she takes a seat. "Now tell me the reason why I just found you kissing another guy who's not your boyfriend. or maybe you and Mark broke up tell me, maybe I'm mistaken."
You begin to panic and you know you're gonna stumble on your words soon. You're not scared that she might tell Mark, you're more afraid of the fact that she might start to see you in a different way. And the pressure to tell Mark intensifies . You fucked up you know it and you feel bad for it already.
"It's not like that. Mark and I are still together." She gasps to mock you. " it's just that me and him haven't been good recently and I-"
" you found another guy and cheated." She blunts out.
" it's not that I cheated, well I did cheat but it's not like I went out looking for jungkook. He found me and things just happened I didn't mean for them to happen but I couldn't stop it." You panic the words out.
"Y/n I'm not here to judge you. You're my friend the last thing that I'd want to do is Judge you but as your friend I wanna know what's going on and I want to hold you accountable. Maybe give you some advice help you with your situation" she places a hand on your shoulder "So you can tell me"
You run your hands over your face and groan.
"You know I never meant to actually like jungkook. But I did. And I don't know what to fucking do. I don't wanna hurt mark" you sigh "Plus he's been trying to make up for his wrongs and I feel so bad. I'm the one holding this relationship back now" you frown.
" Yeah I wouldn't say what you're doing is right" she laughs.
"Sana I'm being serious right now" you give her a stern look.
" Okay" her smile falls into seriousness "you aren't holy but Mark isn't any holier. He neglected you."
"But he's making up for it"
"Without first apologising and acknowledging what he's done wrong. Doesn't sound good enough" she leans back in her seat like she's a talk show host digging into the life of a celebrity. Sana has no friendship with mark, she doesn’t care for him. But that doesn’t mean she’s in support of your doings or his.
"I know you're in the wrong but don't let him off the hook so quick"
"But I just feel so bad"
You let silence linger for a little longer.
"Tell me this" She faces you. "Who do you love more? Jungkook or mark"
"Ugh I can't"
"You have to"
"I'm doomed if I do and doomed if I don't. Cause if I tell Mark I've been cheating he won’t want to be with me, and if I tell jungkook I have a boyfriend he won't want to be with me too. And I can't be selfish and lie cause it just hurts me and them both" you sigh ‘’ im scared’’
You take a sip of the beer you had.
"I don't even know how I've been able to keep it a secret. You know i'm such a bad liar" you release a bitter chuckle.
"You just have to take a risk. If you tell the truth and end up alone it's better than living a lie" sana adds. " just have to pick who you want to be with more"
"Argggggh"
She laughs "how good is the D that it has you this confused"
"It's not about his dick" you whine.
"Oh really? So your telling me that his heart and good personality is what makes you come"
You lightly slap her arm in laughter.
"How do you know he made me come" you lower your eyes at her.
She leans in closer to your face.
"I can see it on your face babygirl."
"Fuck this is gonna be so hard to think of. I can't keep running now"
"Jungkook you're cheating on ivy?" Taehyung whispers.
"It's not like that"
" Oh so are you and ivy are broken up?"
"I've tried to break up with her but she won't leave"
"Is that the reason you'll give for cheating?"
Jungkook groans.
"Not It's not. I just feel bad for dragging y/n into this." He runs his hands through his hair. " even though ivy says she doesn't care, she's going to freak out. I just wish she'd just breakup with me"
"I'm a shitty boyfriend why the hell would she want to be with me?" jungkook continues to mumble out, feeling the effect of his actions creeping in.
"Well I wouldn't say you aren't a shitty boyfriend." Jungkook glares at him "but you need to come clean."
"Yeah I do"
" Okay, who do you like more"
"I mean if I loved ivy I wouldn't be here right now. So I guess I like y/n more" he thinks a little longer about his words. "Actually I fucking love y/n more"
"Then there is your answer, now deal with it." Taehyung says. He’e really not the type to stick his nose in jungkook’s relationship but he feels the need to help him with this. He can see the toll that it has on him.
"It's not that easy" he whispers more to himself.
-
"Y/n" jungkook says before you close the door on him.
"You know I care about you right? Like I really do" you don't know where this is coming from but you understand and you know he's being truthful.
"Yeah I do"
It feels like a slight lift off his shoulders, jungkook just really needs to reassure you that he cares about you.  And he hopes that cushions the fall of his lies.
"I just want you to know that.  Cause I don't take what we have as a joke or for granted"
" and neither do i" you say holding your door open.
You stand there like two awkward teenagers.
"Have a good night y/n" you watch him want to walk away but your voice calls out and he halts.
"I know tonight didn't end so well" you both agree. The ride back home was quiet and all you could hear were the whispers of the wind, and it telling you to grow a pair.
"But i was wondering if you could stay the night" you hold your breath waiting for his answer. Jungkook's heart leaps for joy, that's a confirmation for him that you don't hate him. But maybe that's because you don't know the full truth yet
He knows it’s probably not going to be a light fall when the time comes.
"I can" he says walking towards you and you open the door to let him in.
"I really never want to lose you" he whispers to you before you shut the door.
-
"I know this is not better than being on a beach, but it's a good make-up" he says swinging your arms around. "Plus this is where we came for our-"
"Second date" you finish for him.
"Correct, when I made you my girlfriend" you smile when he turns to face you.
Mark is your first relationship that has ever made it past a year. You never thought you were going to end up a together, cause you were friends first, but you ended making official after deciding how much you liked each other and shared the same values.
Before dating you had spend a lot of time just hanging out as friends, but one night he had seemed to be fed up with just being friends and he asked you out. To which you said yes cause if how much he really fit into the box of what you were looking for.
But now that jungkook's come along you aren't sure of what you are really looking for.
You had so many bad experiences that when your relationship with mark hit a year. you began to overthink and wonder if it would end too, which caused a bit of a pull back from you but Mark assured you that he wanted you forever. Next thing you know you've been together for 2 years.
About a month after your 2 year anniversary you began to notice a pull back on mark's end.
It got you worried but you pushed away the thoughts thinking that maybe it was cause he had gotten a job a town away. Which had you two spending less time together.
You actually wanted to end it but he assured you that it was nothing and he was just stressed and that everything will be fine when he finds another job back home or if you move to him.
Moving out of town was a no from you and that caused a huge argument about how inconsiderate you are.
Next thing you know you're going weeks barely speaking to each other, he misses your birthday (bur tries to send a gift) and you meet jungkook.
And all of a sudden after meeting jungkook, Mark starts to care and be a better boyfriend.
Maybe you should've just moved to Mark.
"Let's take a picture" his voice snaps you back to reality.
"Yeah that would be cute" you say enthusiastically.
You snap a few photos with his phone looking like the most happy couple.
"Let me see them" you reach over to take his phone but he pulls back. You stare at him with knitted eyebrows.
"I'll send them to you" he rushes out his words. Instead of digging in deeper,  you just nod.
"Let's go before it closes."
The sun is setting and you're sat in a restaurant.
"Today was fun" you smile at Mark who returns the smile.
You feel his warm hand still on yours as he admires your face.
"What?" You question him with a tint of blush on your cheek.
"I'm just thinking of how beautiful you are and how lucky I am to have you" he places a kiss on your hand. You can't help but relish in the feelings of Mark showing you affection again. You missed this, this is what you've been wanting.
But even through this reconciliation you can't help but think about jungkook and compare what you have with him to what you have with Mark.
"I want us to get better. Fall in love again" he says.
"You're saying that like we fell out of love" you say under a chuckle.
"No no that's not what I meant, I just want us to start again" you sit there listening to him as his thump strokes your hand. "Cause I really love you y/n. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you"
Normally the thought of spending the rest of your life with Mark should excite you, should make you happy and be the only thing that you want to do. But with jungkook in the picture you're unsure. Not unsure that there's something to hold on to with jungkook and what you could have (assuming he even wants to be with someone who had a boyfriend all along )
You begin to wonder If I would be worth it to leave Mark for Jungkook, what if jungkook decides to leave after you tell him then you'll end up alone at the end. but you'd have to tell Mark everything if you do decide to start over.
"Do you love me y/n" he asks voice vulnerable and weak.
" Huh?"
"Do you love me?"
You stare at him hoping hoping silence isn't too long to cause suspicion of doubt.
You guess it's time to make a decision.
" I do love you" you spit it. from the lens of a microscope your words carry a fib but you've already said it.
Mark smiles.
"Maybe we should think about you moving with me" his words take you back, moving out of town and in with him will mean a lot. It'll mean you'll have to find work in a new area and you don't know if you wanna go through that.
"If you're worried about a job, I already have something lined up for you" he says like he just read your mind. You wish he could read your mind so that you don’t have to tell him about jungkook yourself.
"What do you say babe?" He holds your hand tighter trying to evoke an answer.
-
Jungkook furrows his brows confused to why the lights in the apartment are dimed.
As the moves his hand to brighten the lights, ivy's voice stops him.
"Don't turn them on you're gonna destroy the ambience" she chuckles but jungkook doesn't find anything amusing.
"What's going on?" He says sounding tired. And frustrated.
"Why don't you sound happy, look what I did for you" she says maintaining a her bubbly persona.
Her hand wraps around Jungkook’s wrist to pull him to the dinner table.
He sighs when he sees the alignment of decorations and food set up.
"What's this ivy?" He groans
"I prepared dinner for us. So that we can start  over."
He puffs out a gush of air. He's honestly tired of this and just wants it to end. He needs to break it to her for the last time.
"I won’t be here long enough for dinner" he says bluntly paying the table that had over and hour's worth of preparation no mind. Jungkook hears her light steps follow him.
"What do you mean" she watches him and gets even more confused when she watches him pull out a suitcase.
"Jungkook? "
"I'm moving out" he wishes he had done it earlier maybe it would've been better. Jungkook doesn't even get the chance to watch her face drop, too occupied with packing. He’ll return later on to collect the rest of his things.
"I found an apartment last week " he says the words stoically.
‘’jungkook, you can’t be serious’’ she begins to panic.
“ivy’’ he says softly and for the first time in a while he stares at her.
“im sorry’’ his words come out as genuine as ever. Even though things may have changed between the two of them, he still remember the love they had in the beginning and the girl she was before.
‘’kook what about us, we’ve been together since high school’’ tears fill her lines.
‘’I know, but maybe it’s time to move on.’’ He sighs ‘’I don’t wanna hurt you’’
She sniffles, ‘’well, do you hate me?’’
He shakes his head ‘’I don’t hate you, I never have’’
‘’I just don’t think we’re good for each other.’’
She places her hands on his chest in plea.
‘’kook I love you’’
He wraps his hands around her wrists to move them.
‘’I know, but I don’t think we’re good for each other’’
‘’we can start again.’’ She rushes her words out.
‘’you’re gonna be okay ivy’’ he walks past her.
It makes his heart hurt a little to do this but he knows its for the best. He always thought he’d end up with her forever.
Fell in love in high school and thought they were soulmates. But the world showed him otherwise.
Ivy began to change, got a little reckless and obsessed. Jungkook stayed thinking she would changed.
He noticed how she just got paranoid about thinking jungkook was cheating, when he wasn’t at that time. She got a little overbearing but he stayed for whatever stupid reason.
-
‘’I’ll call you when a get on the uber’’ you speak into the phone.
You haven’t spoken to jungkook in a while. He never called you. So you assumed he must’ve forgotten about you.
After thinking long and hard about it. You sent him a text about how you don’t think you could continue what you had and how sorry you are.
It hurt you to send that message but you had to. You couldn’t give up your life for someone you had just met.
Even though you haven’t told mark about it, you assume it would be alright as long you end it with jungkook.
He never responded so you assume he got the message. His lack of respond make sit easier for you to leave but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt your feelings.
You wonder how things went from zero to hundred and back to zero in a second.
But it’s reality, it’s not a fantasy where jungkook and you would end you together forever.
It was fun while it lasted.
When jungkook got your message, he couldn’t respond cause that’s not where he wanted to have this conversation. He wanted you talk to face to face to see if you’re really being serious.
He doubts though, you can’t just change overnight.
He hasn’t texted you in some time but you also haven’t called or texted him too. So he assumed you needed some time.
He had to settle down and figure out how he was going to tell you and fix all this.
He knows he’s been looking at this situation with rose coloured glasses on, but that doesn’t make what you have any less true.
You could work through it right?
Reading the text hurts jungkook every time, it confuses him too.
But he’s not going to let this go just like that.
‘’hold on’’ you call out when you her a knock at the door.
Your hand turns the nob and when the door open your heart sinks that you almost close the door.
‘’yn’’
He soft voice speaks and your heart breaks.
‘’jungkook’’
He watches the way you avoid eye contact.
‘’can I come in?’’
‘’I’m busy I have somewhere to go’’ you say trying to get him to go.
‘’yn please can we just talk’’
You sigh after your internal battle. You open the door to let him in.
When jungkook walks into your room he eyes the packed bags you have laid out, looks like you’re moving.
That explains why you’re dressed like you’re about to leave.
‘’you’re moving?’’ he asks but doesn’t stare at you.
You don’t answer but you feel how distant you from him. Peace is far from you right now.
‘’with who? Your boyfriend?’’ jungkook didn’t mean to say it but he did. He’s frustrated and a little angry.
‘’what?’’
You’re taken aback by his words and your heart begins to race.
‘’w-what are you talking about’’
‘’I know yn’’ he says softly and unmoved. His fingers in his pocket tap away.
‘’what do you know’’ you sound like an idiot right now.
Jungkook chuckles.
‘’I know’’ he says sounding a little shameful. His words confirming your thought and you sigh rubbing your head.
He walks around your counter and leans elbows against the surface.
His eyes on you feel heavy and they add pressure to your chest. You can’t tell what he’s thinking or feeling which makes it even worse.
Is he mad and came here you tell you off, or does he not mind. That’s not possible he definitely feels some type of way about it.
‘’I don’t care yn’’ he runs his hands over his face.
You don’t register his words before you speak.
‘’how? When did you find out’’ you lower your eyes to the ground and rub you hands over you arms feeling a wave of cold air wash over you. You feel embarrassed.
You feel like puking like the world is closing in.
It’s worse than how you felt when sana found out. You feel like a heavy weight crush over you. The pressure on your shoulders increase.
Jungkook doesn’t answer your question but his mind goes to the birthday card he found in you bag the first day you guys met.
‘’this isn’t how I wanted to tell you’’ you avoid his eye contact. ‘’I was going to tell going to tell you I swear’’ your voice wobbles as the lump in your throat enlarges.
Jungkook nibbles at his bottom lip. He knows by your reaction you probably didn’t hear what he said but he can’t help but feel a lump of his own form in his throat.
He walks over to you and you feel his warm arms wrap around you.
You’re confused to why he would even want to hug you right now, he should be mad. He should be pushing you away and telling how much he’s disappointed and doesn’t want to be with you.
Telling you how much you aren’t the girl he thought you were.
He should be mad, but the hand rubbing your cheek and wiping away a tear says otherwise.
He uses the hand on you cheek to lift your face. You watch his eyes stare into you. They’re soft and gentle, like he’s not mad. His thump rubs your cheek and your body unconsciously moves into his.
His other free hand moves to your lower back and pulls you in.
Your thoughts forgotten in second, you loved how he always was able to make you forget everything else.
‘’its okay’’ he says and you finally register his words. ‘’I don’t ‘’
‘’you don’t?’’ you ask voice, weak and soft.
‘’I don’t baby’’ he whispers softly against your lips.
You want to ask him why, but you can’t. especially when his lips are grazing yours. You feel that warm and familiar feeling of his lips as they peck yours slowly and passionately.
You close your eyes feeling the moment sink in.
Feeling his lips sink in.
You tilt your head to allow a better angle for him.
His lips hungrily interlock with yours. body pulling in deeper until it impossible but you don’t pull back.
you don’t want to.
but even if jungkook doesn’t care, you can’t let this go on. You’ve already agreed to restart with mark and you can’t let that go.
Its’s better for jungkook anyways.
And since it’s your last kiss with him you wanna feel every last taste of him. Every feel of his lip ring grazing your skin.
Your hands find their way to Jungkook’s neck and into his hair. You pull him even closer as your tongues graze each other’s mouth.
The light moans and grunts you release causes a wave to wash over him, like electricity.
He nibbles at your lower lip as his hands move to grope your ass.
You moan.
‘’jungkook’’ you say his name for no reason, but you cant think your mind is foggy and you’re out of breath.
‘’you make me so crazy…’’ he says before going back into overlapping your tongues.
He makes you so crazy too. So crazy that you forgot about the uber mark called for you.
But in this moment you couldn’t think of anything. With the way jungkook was holding on to you, you couldn’t.
He kissed you like you were the air he breathed, the air he needed.
The air he wanted.
This kiss too made him forget everything too, he has just restarted his life and he wants you to be apart of it.
His lip move to your neck and leaves kisses everywhere he can. You gasp and pull at his hair when you feel his hands roam your body.
‘’I only want you yn’’ his lips kiss you by your ear as he whispers ‘’I only want you…’’
His hands move to your thighs and squeezes lightly.
If you let this go any further it might be hard for you to leave.
‘’jungkook’’ you whimper out.
He hums and pulls head away from your neck.
‘’I can’t’’ you say with a heavy heart.
You watch how his face falls and it breaks your heart.
‘’im sorry, I did this, im sorry I dragged it out’’ your body pulls away and the cold seeps in. ‘’I shouldn’t’’ jungkook felt like he was having his heart ripped from his chest.
‘’im sorry’’
Jungkook wants to be mad but he remembers his own transgressions.
He did plan on telling you about ivy when he came here, but he just got so distracted.
And he doesn’t think he can tell you right now.
What would be the point anyway, you don’t want to be with him.
He watches you walk over to your bags and text someone.
He folds his hands into fists frustrated with himself for bring a coward and letting you go. But he can’t fight for you, what ground does he have to stand on. He’s a liar too.
And he doesn’t think he’d be able to tell you.
All this for you leave. He’s really hating himself right now.
But it’s not the right time for him to fight for you, it would only make you more confused.
‘’im sorry too’’ he’s apologising for many things some of which he should’ve told you about.
You listen to him speak. You were kinda hoping he would say more to make want you to stay, make you not want to leave.
Just something to make you realise you’re meant to be here with him.
But you guess there are none.
But it’s not his job to make you want to stay.
‘’Thank you for everything jungkook’’ you try to form a smile.
_-_
I'm glad I have this out of my drafts now. :)
193 notes · View notes
miley1442111 · 17 hours
Text
choices and meetings- a.donaldson
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)
i'll probably do a few more parts of this because it's just so cute and sad :(
summary: the first conversation you two have after the break-up.
pairing: art donaldson x reader
warnings: angst, feelings of disappointment, hurt, allusions to an eating disorder, depression, etc. +
PART 1: choices and chances
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been 4 weeks since the break up. Both of you were miserable but you wouldn’t tell the other. There was no ‘hot guy from your science class’ that you were fucking, you just wanted to make him jealous. 
It did make him jealous. Very jealous. Just the idea of you being with someone else made his skin crawl. He’d essentially gone to every guy in that class to threaten to kill them if they even looked at you, he didn’t care if you weren’t his girlfriend anymore, he just needed some more time. He just needed you.
The only time you two interacted was during tennis sessions. You were being coached by the same person, so he made you do matches against each other. The last 4 weeks had been full of electrifying matches, often ending in Art smashing a racket or you stalking off in anger. 
But you were both playing so well. So, so well.
The matches were difficult and finally challenging. Art had never played so well, he was almost at your level, and even beat you a few times. Though, you were usually better. 
Once the rackets were packed away and you both left the court, it was like a scene in a romcom. Both of you wishing for the other, crying alone over one another, and wanting everything to be different. You regretted breaking up with him, but you knew you couldn’t take it anymore. His forgetfulness, his carelessness, his choices. He regretted breaking your heart. He missed you, your smile, your jokes, your laughs, your pretty face, your cute habits, your hands on his skin, the way you loved him, how he felt loved and wanted. Some things he’d never felt before. You were his first serious relationship, his first love, his first everything.
It came to the day of your final match against Serena O’Brien, an English tennis player. You were ready, you felt good. 
Then you looked into the crowd and saw Art, and everything went to shit. Your mind was clouded, you felt sick, you felt betrayed. Seeing him at school was one thing, that was controlled, you knew you’d see him at school. Seeing him here? Uncontrolled, unknown, and unfair.
You set your sights on the ball. The match started. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “That was some real tennis!” Your coach shouted, ecstatic at your win. The match was hard fought but she didn’t exactly have a chance, not when you were imagining the ball as Art’s face. 
“Thanks,” you smiled, though there was no happiness behind it, no pride in your win. Art walked onto the court behind him, an apologetic smile on his face. Art had noticed your changing habits in recent weeks as he tried to win you back. You were more irritable, less ‘there’, you ate less, you trained more, you stopped doing some of the things you actually enjoyed, like the literature class you just sat in on every Tuesday afternoon, or the cat nursery you used to volunteer at. 
But today, today he had a plan. He would speak to you, tell you he loved you and that he was sorry, then let you go. It’s what you deserved. You deserved someone who didn’t pick anyone else over you. You deserved someone as smart as you. You deserved someone as beautiful as you. You deserved someone as kind as you. You deserved someone as caring as you. You deserved an equal. Art did not see himself as equal to you. 
“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, walking onto the court. “You’re incredible.”
Your face fell. You didn’t want him to think your tennis was ‘incredible’, you wanted him to think you were incredible. “Thank you.”
“Can we talk?” He asked, itching the back of his neck and looking down.
“Sure,” you shrugged. All your anger had left the second you shut the door in his face. It was replaced by hurt and sadness. Feeling like you’re not your boyfriend’s priority is awful. Knowing who his priority actually is was worse. 
Art took your hand tentatively, and led you to the room you’d sat in before the match. He sat on a stack of boxes as you leant against the door beside him. His hand in yours made both of you reminiscent, electrified, and sad, all at the same time. His soft hands felt comfortable, familiar, right. 
Your hand in his felt blasphemous. You were so… perfect, he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve this conservation, he didn’t deserve a moment of your time, yet you gave him it. He didn’t want to ruin it, 
There was a long moment of silence. 
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he held your hand. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s ok Art, people break up-”
“We don’t. We shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have let it happen, I love you too much for that,” he sniffled and your heart broke in two. Your boy, your sweet, kind Art was crying. 
“I’m such an idiot,” he whispered, looking down at the ground. He was trying to keep it together, but he’d never been good at hiding things when it came to you. Your thumb brushed back and forth on his skin, calming him. It made him cry all the harder, you were so caring, he’d hurt you so much, so deeply. And yet, you showed him a kindness he didn’t believe he deserved. “I’m such a fucking idiot.” 
“Art it just wasn’t working,” you sighed. “It’s alright. It’s no one’s fault.”
“It’s my fault,” He looked up at you with red-rimmed eyes, tears spilling from them. You took your hand and cupped his cheek, wiping them away. He leaned into your touch as if he'd missed it for an eternity. As if  he’d missed you for an eternity. Your hand on his cheek burned straight to his heart. Subconsciously he tried to commit the feeling to memory, in case this was the last time. “It’s all my fault.”
“You can’t beat yourself up about it. What we had was so good for so long. It just… there was too much going on, something had to give,” You bit your bottom lip to try and stop the tears falling from your eyes. The devastated expression on his face broke you. “I love you so much Art, but I’m hurt. So are you. You’ll be alright.” 
Art looked at you again and he started sobbing into your side, wrapping his arms around your waist. You looked up, attempting to preserve your composure. “I’m so sorry,” he cried into your side. “I love you so much. I love you so, so much.”
“I love you too much,” you croaked out. “You’re such a good person.”
That made Art cry harder. You still thought he was a good person after he hurt you. You still thought he deserved your love. You still loved him. You were comforting him, telling him it wasn’t his fault. It was all his fault. He was horrible to you, he was a bad boyfriend. 
“I miss you,” you whispered and his heart stopped. His plan was going awfully. You were too kind, too good for him. You should’ve hated him, yet you didn’t.
“I miss you too,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. 
“This sucks,” you sadly chuckled as you allowed the tears to roll down your face. 
“It does,” he whispered against you. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s alright Art. We’re still friends, we’ll take care of each other, yeah?” You looked down at him and made eye contact. 
“Promise?” He whispered, holding his pinky finger up.
“Promise,” You whispered, interlocking your fingers. “I’m always here for you.”
“I love you,” he stood up beside you, closer than he probably should’ve been. His hands wrapped around your waist and out of pure instinct, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. He tasted like salty tears. You wiped his face again, a sad smile on your face. 
“We’re here for each other,” you swore. 
“Always.”
You opened the door behind you and walked out, making it the second hardest thing you’d even done, right after breaking up with him. 
He fell back into his seat, crying silently into his hands, chest heaving, eyes spilling, throat drying. 
He just made it 1000 times worse for himself, and you.
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art donaldson masterlist :)
navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)
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ireneispunk · 24 hours
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Duty
Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader smut
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After a rough start to your marriage, whispers from the palace cause you and your betrothed to start what you should have done months ago; produce an heir.
w.c: 1487
c.w: SMUT 18+, NO use of Y/N, not exactly enemies but y'all beefing, hate sex (if you squint, but more like dislike sex and its more just sass idfk), mention of pregnancy, breeding kink, afab reader, p in v sex, fingering, overstimulation, pls let me know if i've missed any
a.n: so i recently watched the queen charlotte bridgerton spin off and i absolutely loved it, this is very inspired by charlotte and george's earlier dynamic tee hee.
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Four months and 3 days. That is how long it has been since your wedding, and how long you have loathed your husband. The two of you were not exactly close before your betrothal on account of the rapidness of it but the tensions that spread between parts of his family did not help. You both seem to fight every conversation you had thereafter, so it became easier to avoid each other. That was until around 3 months into your betrothal that questions of when you would need your dresses altering had you worried. You were supposed to making heirs but you both exploded whilst in the same room as each other.  You’d visited the prince in his separate room and communicated the issue, he was reading by the fire. You played with your fingers in your hands as he eyed the flaw, thinking intently. He placed his book face down on the table as he petted the bench beside him. You hesitated for a moment, before sitting next to him. “Once a week, we will fulfil our, uh, duty to try and produce an heir. Once you are with child we will stop.” You thought for a moment, before nodding. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. This was not what you had wished for in your marriage. Jacaerys was a painfully handsome man, dark curls that framed he chiselled features.
“It is the end of the week today, your grace.” You spoke, not fully considering the implications of the statement. But the quicker your belly was full the better.
He turned to you, hesitated for a moment before moving closer to you and pulled you onto his lap. You were surprised by the sudden closeness of someone, let alone your husband. He looked up from beneath you with a glimmer of what he had on your wedding night, without the naïve hope. His hands slid up from your hips to the bust of your dress, he looked into your eyes before giving the bodice of your dress a quick tug down allowing your breast to spill out. You gasped as his hands cupped over your breasts, massaging them before running a thumb over your nipple. You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a warmth spread over your body. You didn’t dare look him in the eye, keeping your eyes shut or trained on the ceiling. You felt as one hand left your breast and hike up your dress further up your hips. He sighed to himself slightly, at the sight of your exposed cunt. He could not believe his luck the first time he had saw you. You were quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and unfortunately that did not change the more you both disliked each other. If anything, it grew. Seeing you from across the room at formal engagements, gluing to his side when you needed to seem like the happy couple. It made the frustrations between the two of you even more palpable over the past few months, given the lack of relief. You opened your eyes to see his dark eyes looking up at you. He brought his two first fingers up to your lips, “Open.” His soft tone contradicted the demand and look upon his face. His fingers slid into your mouth, gliding across your tongue as you closed your lips around them. Out of sheer lust you grinded your hips against him, needing to feel some release and gaining small jolt at the feeling of your cunt rubbing against his clothed cock. His free hand shot to your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He removed his fingers from your mouth, admiring his spit covered fingers for a moment before they reached between your thighs and lightly grazed across your clit. You jolted, leaning forward to grip the bench behind him.
You could not stop the moan that escaped your mouth as his fingers slowly ran circles across your clit. He smirked as the noises that fell from your lips, knowing how much you couldn’t bare to be around him but fell apart in his arms was a satisfying feeling.  “I did not know you were so needy, dear wife.” The honorific felt like a pin prick. Insincere and laced with sarcasm.
Despite the tightening growing in your stomach, you could not let him have the final word as usual. “You hadn’t been paying close enough attention, your grace.” A flash of frustration flashed upon his face as his hand moved to grip your hair and fingers plunged inside of you. A gasp left you as his fingers thrusted deep inside of your cunt, you had gone from strolling towards an orgasm to being thrown at it. The tips of his fingers curled slightly, deliciously massaging that spot inside your pussy that drove you wild. You jaw fell open, eyes going wide at the loss of contact when he removed his fingers from you. You went to protest before seeing his cock in his hands, brows furrowed as he stroked the length.
You couldn’t hold off any longer before you took a hold of his wrists and pushed his hands away to his sides. You took his cock into your hand giving it a few pumps, watching an expression of lust spread across his face. You leaned over slightly, letting a ball of spit leave your lips and watch as it slid down his cock. He hissed, returning his hands to your hips pulling you closer to him. You took the hint, angling his cock towards your pussy, rubbing the tip over your clit for your own pleasure a few times, before lining him up and sliding down slowly, a large groan left his lips as be bottomed out inside of you. You had forgotten just how big his cock was, and just how good it had felt filling you up. You began to raise your hips up and down, moans leaving your lips as you did. You worked at a steady pace but after being accustomed to his hands began to push up and down with the movements of your hips moving you faster. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as he pounded into you, no matter how much your stifled your moans, you gave him the satisfaction of them loudly leaving your lips. His hand reached up to yours, removing it from his shoulders and moving your fingers between your legs. You immediately got his instruction, fingers latching onto your clit. You worked tight circles into it as you got filled over and over with Jacaerys’ cock. A familiar tightness returned to your stomach as your head dropped back and numerous illicit words left your lips. Recognising your peak, he pulled you forward by your thighs, almost pressing your bodies against each other as he quickened his pace. Your orgasm cascaded over you, feeling your pussy tighten around Jacaerys’ cock and your body buzz from the overstimulation. You rode out your high atop of him, watching as his eyes screwed shut and his thrusts became sloppier.
You took the opportunity to return your knees to the bench either side of him and bob your hips up and down as fast as you could. His fingers reached the lip of the bench gripping it until his knuckles turned white. “Mmm, my grace,” You moaned out. His eyes shot open, his heart pounding at your remark. “Please fill me with your seed.” You pleaded and moaned, half doing it for a reaction, half because it felt too good. His jaw hung open in shock for a split second before he sputtered a moan from his lips, hips snapping into yours. You felt satisfied as a warmth filled your pussy. Your hips moved slightly, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you still. His hand shot to your hip, mumbling something, before you placed your hand flat across his chest. You bobbed a few more times on his cock, being sure to be as full as possible with his cum. You smirked to yourself seeing his head throne back, lip quivering, veins prominent in his hands gripping your waist, sweaty curls sticking to his neck. You slowly raised yourself off of his cock, standing to your feet and trying to mask your wobbliness as adjusting your dress.
You stole a glance his way, admiring his beauty before he spoke and ruined it. He panted through his mouth, arms outstretched over the sides of the bench. You smirked to yourself, admiring how he too had crumbled for you. The opening of his doorhandle caused him to call your name from behind you. You glanced at him and smiled. “Goodnight your grace, see you in seven eves’.” He opened his mouth to response, but you had already shut the door behind you. You hoped it would be sooner before he fucked you again.
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waywardstation · 1 day
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HAPPY WIP WEDNESDAY!!
This one is to promote @bananacreamphi ‘s dojoshipping week prompts !! I’m participating in it with a fic and accompanying art, each day’s prompt making up one of its seven chapters.
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Even though it’s obviously for dojoshipping, just like all my other works you can probably read it entirely platonic as well if you want.
Here is a WIP from it!! It’s a little shorter today because the chapters themselves are shorter.
The overarching story is essentially Ingo helping Zisu fix up the dojo for a festival, because he’s sort of the one that busted it up in the first place with all his battling — it’s a plot that was taken from one of my fake fic title ideas when I was doing those!!
Enjoy! Wording is (VERY) subject to change.
————
“About that, Ingo,” Zisu laughed a little, but it felt more like she was just trying to keep the mood light. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”
“Oooh, you’re in trouble~” Akari’s teasing remark was bursting at the seams with amusement as she elbowed him. It seemed she was already fully aware of the subject, and had been waiting for Zisu to bring it up — her perceived delight only encouraged preemptive embarrassment to heat Ingo’s ears.
“Why am I in trouble?” Straightening his back as stiff as his tone, Ingo set his chopsticks down against the table under a flat hand, immediately looking at Zisu.
“He’s not in trouble,” Zisu pointed at Akari with her chopsticks before turning to Ingo. “You’re not in trouble.”
“I feel like I’m in trouble.”
“You’re not…” A pause, as the last syllable stretched out. “…exactly, in trouble.”
Ingo could only feel himself growing warmer in the face, and Akari’s snickering off to the side wasn’t helping. “Please don’t delay this any longer, what did I do that has caused such a concern?”
Zisu’s answer wasn’t immediate; while she was probably trying to be gentle about it, the effort only doubled the dread. “Well, you know the welcoming festival coming up in a few days?”
“…Indeed,” Ingo spoke slowly, giving a reaffirming nod. He couldn’t not know about it, what with the newly-finished homes; now empty but soon to be filled by residents traveling across the ocean, it was all anyone was talking about right now. But what could he possibly have to do with any of that?
“Kamado wants the entire village to be at its best for our new residents when they arrive — and I mean the entire village. Every building, every street, every bucket, every grain of dirt, it has to be perfect. Well he came by the training grounds early this morning, before you had even gotten there, and he was…” A pause to figure out how to put it nicely. “Not particularly overjoyed with the current state of it.”
“Oh,” Ingo could see where this was going now. “Oh dear.”
The dojo was sturdy, but it was not indestructible. Ingo was well aware that the battles he conducted at the training grounds were never delicate or subdued. They were oftentimes quite intense with Akari’s help, and over time, such intensity left wood paneling splintered, paint chipped, and dirt in areas there certainly should not be dirt.
No one could deny that it had considerable wear and tear, noticeable from afar and unsightly up close. That was certainly not a presentable sight in a village that apparently needed everything perfectly in place for this festival, down to the specks of dirt on the ground.
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acourtofthought · 1 day
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Chaol and Nehemia offering Aelin their weapons is one of the most heartwarming moments of the first book.
Azriel offering Elain his knife (which he has offered no one else in half a millennia, and which also became the cover photo of ACOWAR alongside an image of roses…) is similarly heartwarming.
So what exactly is the point of your post?
I also find it hilarious that you included a screenshot of this quote - the moment between Chaol and Aelin;
“Far inside of her, she found a golden chain that bound them together.”
That sounds like mate language, no? Similar to the “thread” between Elain and Lucien?
And yet Chaol and Aelin weren’t endgame. 🤷‍♀️
You forgot the part where Az only offered Elain TT because the female he canonically loved begged him with tears in her eyes to sit out of battle. You and I both know had he not agreed to doing what Mor asked he would have never given Elain TT.
I don't remember Chaol being in love with any other female during the scene where he offered his sword, do you? Or Chaol in the very next book going on to look at someone other than Celaena with heat and yearning? No, Chaol was loyal to her before they were together and during the time they were together.
You also forgot the part where Az never offered to give Elain any help though she was concerned about not knowing how to use TT versus Chaol who helped train Celaena. Chaol who laid on the ground next to Celaena during her Duel.
The scene with Celaena and Chaol was heartwarming, much more so than the scene with Elain and Az because of everything mentioned above. Chaol and Celaena were by far the superior ship to E/riel. In literally every way.
But you're right. Chaol and Aelin weren't endgame because she had a mate who was always going to be her destiny. My point was that Sarah has two series featuring two similar scenes where a possible male love interest offers a weapon to a female but that doesn't actually mean anything in terms of endgame. Sarah J Maas is a millionaire because of the Fated Mates stories she writes. It just doesn't hit quite as hard to become a rejected mates author so people claiming the TT scene means Az is Elain's forever? I'm going with no.
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Despite Aelin initially wanting Dorian in book 1, despite her later calling Chaol her home and him thinking how 4 years (and not just one taste and that would be it like Az wanted with Elain) might not be enough, these men were not her endgame.
Again, my point is that it doesn't matter how special you think the moments for your ship are, mates are always going to fulfill something for these females that no other male love interest can.
The ACOTAR book had a wolf on the cover but it didn't hint at endgame for Feyre, what's your point?
And no, "chain" is not like mate language considering each Archeron's CONFIRMED bond is described as a thread and we know the golden chain connecting Celaena to Chaol was not a mating bond. You're doing my work for me.
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Golden chain is pretty romantic though, maybe a nod to how they might have been right for one another in a different life where there was no such things as fae mating bonds. Much more romantic than "he hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to".
You all get so fixated on your multiple books of buildup while forgetting that Sarah J Maas will take many beautiful moments between two characters and throw them out the window in favor of who she wants to be endgame.
Dorian and Chaol had way more moments with Celaena than Az has had with Elain but in the end, they didn't matter.
Like SJM said, it's not about "want" but is about who the FMC needs to be with in order to have the most growth.
"There is a darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to".
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suzukiblu · 6 hours
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Ko-fi thank-you sentences for an anon behind the cut; mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees. ( chrono || non-chrono )
But why the fuck is Alfred calling him– 
“Sorry for the wait, Mr. Wayne, your local self thought it might be for the best not to come in-person! You wanted to avoid a fuss. I mean–he wanted to avoid a fuss,” Rita says brightly, looking sheepish, and Kon remembers, very abruptly, everything she’d said about Gotham tabloids and also the fact that she’d “recognized” him after he’d scooped up a traumatized kid who was calling him “Dad” and then, uh–well, flirted with her. And also literally every single story he has ever heard about Clark and Bruce successfully passing for each other, in costume and out. 
Well . . . shit. 
Well, that definitely means the local Bruce Wayne is out Batman-ing his way through the current interdimensional crisis. But also, what the fuck has Kon just gotten them into? Jon seems to just be rolling with it, thank fuck, but there's no way Alfred Pennyworth actually believes he's a version of Bruce Wayne. 
. . . does he? 
No, no, he definitely doesn't. Interdimensional bullshit aside, it’s Alfred. He's just a really good liar and a trained actor with a flawless poker face. Alfred lies better than Tim lies, for fuck's sake, which is goddamn saying something. So Kon might end up a little mortified later when he's admitting he got mistaken for an alternate version of Gotham’s number one airheaded himbo DILF Brucie Wayne by an aid worker, but . . . 
Well. He doesn't even know who he'd be admitting that to, at this point. 
He doesn't know if he'll ever . . . 
“The car is just down the block, sir,” Alfred says, and Kon tells himself he can do this. He always does, doesn’t he? He can handle his own shit and he'll take care of Jon and go meet the local Batman, apparently, and then embarrass himself explaining how this happened to him, and maybe . . . maybe the local Tim will be there. 
It won't be his Tim, but right now he just really wants to see his face, one way or the other. He's not gonna be picky about which “Tim” he's actually seeing. 
“Cool,” he says, trying not to sound too screamingly not-Gotham. He seriously doubts he manages it, though. He’s no good at the voice-mimicking trick Clark does and even if he was, it wouldn’t exactly be subtle to start doing it now. 
He and Jon say goodbye to the kids, who make a lot of very kid-like disappointed noises, and Kon suggests another game for them to distract themselves with–one that won’t require a technical adult running it–and then Rita’s got some paperwork for him and Alfred to both fill out and sign, and a couple other aid workers rubber-stamp them through, and absolutely no one asks to see his ID or even for a second doubts that he’s a version of Bruce Wayne. Except–hopefully–Alfred, anyway. 
Kon seriously cannot tell for fuck either way, the man might as well be a promethium wall. At this point he’s just counting on Alfred’s weird all-knowingness bailing him out here. Worst case scenario is explaining himself, obviously, but if he doesn’t exist here . . . 
Well, “Lex Luthor made me” is probably not a great start, with most Batmans. Especially after going to see said Batman under what is, technically, false pretenses. Like–obviously Alfred wouldn’t have come out in the middle of an interdimensional emergency for Conner Kent; he showed up here expecting a younger version of his boss. 
Probably would’ve come for Jon, he guesses, if only as a favor to the local Clark, since the guy’s presumably distracted figuring out how many dangerous strangers are currently in their reality with the Justice League, but still. 
Then again, for all Kon knows, the local Luthor is dead or irrelevant or a selflessly benevolent saint who feeds orphan puppies on the weekend, so who the fuck knows. 
Kon cannot actually imagine Luthor ever even existing in the same room as a puppy without it knowing well enough to piss on his fancy leather shoes, but look, alternate realities include the word “alternate” in them for a reason. Like, the word “alternate” is very much the operative word there. 
If nothing else, the local puppies might just be stupid. 
Kon’s not really a dog person, personally. Krypto doesn’t count, on account of being an alien and therefore not an actual dog. The first Krypto he knew was an actual dog, though, and they just did not vibe whatsoever.
He and Alfred sign the last couple papers. Kon fakes Bruce Wayne’s signature because he’s spent enough time in Wayne Manor to know the difference between that and his autograph, and thanks fuck that the eidetic memory finally kicked in last year. Seriously, it is such bullshit it took that long for him to get it, considering Clark and Luthor both have one. 
Alfred doesn’t actually react to the signature, but Kon does notice him noticing it. 
Probably what he’s noticing is that it’s not the same signature that his Bruce Wayne used in his early twenties, because there’s no way that hasn’t changed in twenty-odd years. 
Rita smiles at them and sees them all off happily with some reference numbers and exchanged contact information, and they don’t say anything on the way to the car. Kon keeps carrying Jon, which maybe isn’t normal human behavior, especially for someone who’s supposed to be passing for a ditzy socialite who allegedly only has vanity muscles as opposed to actually functional ones, but Kon kind of doesn’t care about that right now. Like, not even slightly does Kon care about that right now. 
Alfred leads them to a shiny black towncar and opens the door for them, and Kon gives him a nod of thanks and bundles Jon into the thing. Jon sniffles once, and kinda of clings to him a little. Kon figures it’s fair. He was never “ten” himself, obviously, but it seems like a rough age to put up with this kind of bullshit during. Like–definitely it does. 
“You’re good, kid,” he swears, less because it’s a promise and more because it’s something he’s gonna make happen, squeezing the kid’s shoulder the way Clark always does when he’s doing the reassuring thing. “I’ve got you. I’m with you. Okay?” 
“Okay,” Jon says, sniffling again and scrubbing an arm across his eyes. “Um. Sorry.” 
“Don’t sweat it, Jonno,” Kon says, and Jon’s face crumples for a moment before he visibly steels himself and nods. Kon squeezes his shoulder again, then gets into his own seat and buckles himself in more out of the habit of trying to pass for human while in civvies than to actually, like, need to be buckled in. TTK kind of cancels out the risk of getting tossed around a car in an accident, and he’s invulnerable on top of that, plus the super-speed, so . . . yeah. Definitely car accidents are not a concern. 
He really wants to help this kid. He wants to at least get him to the local Clark, if nothing else. Like–if they all get stuck here, or there’s nowhere else for them to go . . . 
Well, it’d take a pretty different Clark than the one he’s used to not to want to take in any version of Jon, so as long as this reality actually has a Clark . . . 
Well, Kon’s probably not gonna be watching the kid long, in that case.
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clangenrising · 1 day
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Month 15 - Newleaf
Battle With Razor Pt 2
The sound of claws on stone filled the camp.
Shortly after the battle patrol had left, Scorchplume had climbed onto the Stoneperch and started restlessly scratching her claws over its surface non-stop. It had been about an hour and Oddstripe was starting to get worried about her. 
He understood, of course. His three, perfect children had all gone to join the fight and while he was so, so proud of them, he was also absolutely terrified. He’d taken to checking on everyone in camp, making sure that things were settled here at least. 
Pantherhaze was sat next to the elders’ den, within which Mystique was sulking. Oddstripe made sure to drop off her breakfast. Slatepaw and Fogpaw had dutifully taken on the task of keeping Lake occupied and were taking turns letting her bat at their tails. She was finally starting to reach a healthy weight which relieved Oddstripe greatly. Aldertail had turned in to try and sleep through the battle and Oddstripe hadn’t wanted to disturb her. 
Sagetooth had gone with the rest of the Clan to help provide medical attention to the fighters, leaving Oddstripe at home just in case something went wrong with Mystique’s pregnancy. He had told himself to trust her judgment but he also couldn’t help but worry that he could be doing more at the front. Scorch’s scratching was starting to grate on his brain, making him even more restless. 
Eventually, he leapt up onto the Stoneperch beside her, offering a gentle smile. “How are you hanging in there?” 
“Fine,” Scorch said, clearly lying. She did still her paws though, which he silently appreciated. 
“I’m nervous too,” he said. She frowned, looking more forlorn than he had ever seen her. He continued, “I know they train for this kind of thing but that doesn’t make me worry any less about them getting hurt.” 
“I just worry they’re still underestimating him,” Scorch admitted. “I tried to prepare them but if it’s not enough…” 
Oddstripe nodded. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.” He took a deep breath and stretched, padding a few steps away into the thick, waving grass. “At the end of the day, you just have to trust that they are doing their best and have faith that things will be alright.” Scorch huffed a little and curled her tail over her paws. 
Oddstripe sighed and looked up at the last traces of the stars in the early morning sky. Faith had always come so easily to him that it was hard to understand why it seemed so hard for Scorchplume. He took a deep breath and tried to open himself to StarClan’s will, hoping they had some guidance for him in this moment. 
The sun was just starting to rise over the desert and the mountains beyond it, staining the dark blue sky a bloody crimson. Oddstripe’s tail bristled and arched behind him as the rays of sunlight seemed to transform into rivers of blood pouring over the distant landscape while the rising sun flickered and started to go out. He couldn’t breathe. 
Then, suddenly, a column of flame shot up from the desert and the blood shrank away, reversing its course as if going back in time and the sun regained its brilliant gleam. He blinked and the vision was gone, the sun rising just as normal. Scorchplume looked over at him and frowned. 
“Are you alright?” she asked, sitting up straighter. “What’s wrong?” 
He swallowed, took a step back, and said, “I- I think I just had a vision.” He could barely believe the words. He turned the images over in his mind to make sure he was interpreting it correctly. With something this important, he had to be sure. 
Scorch pursed her lips. “What kind of vision?” she said skeptically. 
“Well,” he said, trying to spread saliva around his very dry mouth, “I can’t be perfectly certain, but it was a warning from StarClan. If you don’t go to the battle right now, Goldenstar will die.” As he said the words, they seemed to fall into place, affirming their truth the moment they were spoken aloud. 
Scorch bristled. “That’s crazy,” she snapped. “How would you even know that?!” 
“It’s hard to explain,” he said, knowing intuition wouldn’t be a satisfying explanation for the cynic. “Look, you don’t have to believe me but I would bet my life on what I saw.” His eyes wandered over the grass as a plan formed in his mind. “In fact, I’m going over right now. Please come with me.” He looked up at her and prayed that she could have faith just this once. 
“I…” she swallowed and curled her shoulders in on herself. “I can’t. If Razor finds me again-”
“I know,” Oddstripe cut in, “but Goldenstar needs you.” 
Scorch shook her head and took a step back. “I’m sorry. I can’t go back there.” Oddstripe wanted to beg and plead but he knew it wouldn’t convince her. He sighed and leapt down from the Stoneperch to head for his den. 
“I’m going to go anyway,” he said. “Maybe there’s something I can do.” 
“What’s going on?” Pantherhaze asked, standing up. 
“Goldenstar is in trouble,” Oddstripe said, sounding more authoritative than he thought he was able. “I’m going to see if there’s something I can do about it.” 
“Oh,” Pantherhaze swallowed and shifted as if he were straining against the tether keeping him there with Mystique. Eventually, he said, “May StarClan guide you.” 
Oddstripe swallowed and nodded. He strode quickly into the healers’ den to the back where the herbs were stored. Sagetooth had already taken most of the important ones with her but his eyes fell upon the small stock of yarrow that was left. Listening to his gut, he snatched the herbs up in his mouth and bounded back out, heading for the border as fast as was sustainable. He mumbled prayers under his breath, hoping that his vision wasn’t a certainty, that he would be able to change fate on his own. 
“Wait!” Scorchplume called out and he turned to see her bounding to catch up with him. He smiled but didn’t waste time on words. Once she was at his side, he took off again and she followed quickly and quietly. We’re coming, Goldenstar, he thought. Just hang in there.
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temis-de-leon · 2 days
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Day 8 - Unwanted kiss
Characters: Diavolo x fem!MC
25 kisses challenge Masterlist
Main Masterlist
CW: non consensual kiss, implied other types of sexual harassment (not from Diavolo's nor MC's part), MC defends herself, pre-established relationship
.
There were a dozen reasons that could explain MC’s presence in his office. Did she miss him? It wouldn’t be the first time she visited him out of the blue with a wide smile, hands locked behind her back with a certain innocence that made him put his paperwork aside in order to pay her attention.
Sometimes she'd need his help for homework and in what universe would he say no? Of course, there were also the official meetings, but having part, if not all, of the brothers and his butler there made bonding time with her barely impossible.
No, Diavolo perfectly knew he very much preferred their private meetings, the ones where he could ask about her daily life without an audience and where her eyes were fixed exclusively on him.
So when he heard a knock and the one to enter was MC, he couldn’t help but smile immediately. However, her sour expression made him stop in his tracks. She was pulling the hem of her pleaded skirt down and her hair looked messier than ever.
“MC?” he called, but she wouldn’t raise her head.
Diavolo was in the middle of getting up to console her when she handed him a slip of paper showing a familiar signature and RAD’s official stamp. He grabbed it and read it, his face unpleasantly serious and stomach churning in worry. The signature belonged to one of the professors and his message described, amongst a myriad of insults to the human race, how MC had been seen punching a fellow classmate.
He gasped in surprise, instantly setting his gaze on her. MC still didn’t seem able to look at him.
“Is this true, MC? You punched another student?”
She sighed heavily, crossing her arms before finally locking eyes with him and nodding in silence. In a subtle movement that didn’t escape his notice, she pulled her skirt down again. It didn’t take him too long to put two and two together, and when it did, nausea hit him like a train.
Then anger.
He forced himself to stay calm, not wanting to aggravate her further, and the teacher’s notice, which he’d make sure to revise later, slipped through his fingers and fell to the carpeted floor. MC’s hands met his and he felt the primal, dark and visceral, need to keep her close.
“I’m afraid you will have to explain to me exactly what happened, MC. What did he do…?”
“He kissed me” she interrupted him, but would not let go of his hands. Not that he minded it. The sickening tendrils of jealousy filled his guts for just a second before he pushed them down. It was not what she needed at the moment.
“He’s part of my fanclub and has been asking me out for days, but I always said no. He asked again today, but I had a test and I was tired and I wasn’t in the mood to be nice and he had the brilliant thought of kissing me as a way to finally get me to accept his proposal… So I punched him. And the teacher saw, I guess, so now I’m grounded”
Diavolo listened carefully at her nervous monologue, discreetly caressing her knuckles while walking towards the sofa and sitting down next to her. She didn’t seem to be afraid, just frustrated and profoundly disgusted.
“I’m deeply sorry, MC”
“You don’t need to apologize...”
“Allow me to do it still”
He felt his cheeks heating up, the warmth only increasing when he bent down to kiss the back of her hands and her fingers let go of his to cradle his face and scratch the back of his neck.
There was nothing he wanted more in the three realms than stay next to her and enjoy her touch, but it wasn’t the moment.
“Wait for me here”
He got up, straightening his uniform.
“Where are you going?”
MC stayed on the couch and the distance between them felt impossibly long. He bent down, constraining himself to kiss her on the lips as to not remind her of the recent experience, and spoke in a whisper.
“I’m going to personally take care of them”
.
.
Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @beatlebeesstuff   @mehkers
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nocturnest · 2 days
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Heya sweets❤️
Im always so shy when asking for request 👉🏻👈🏻
I have this story in my head where the reader is Tangerines and Lemons Handler. Lemon adores reader. She does everything for them. Always fun and making jokes. Tangerine and reader have a little hate/banter relationship, but both have unresolved feelings for eachother.
And after one near death assignment, reader has to bring out her nursing skills. Stop the bleeding, stitching them back up etc. But reader is so frustrated with the both of them especially Tan. Because she cares for them and obviously loves Tan. And by almost loosing Tangerine brakes her composure and all her feelings come out.
Maybe fluff, maybe some nsfw?
Do with this whatever you like☺️
Have a wonderful day 🥰🫶🏻
hello my lovely friend! so sorry this took a while but i wanted to make sure i did it right! what a wonderful prompt - i love this idea! please enjoy and feel free to continue sending requests! 🥰
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You loved the boys - you really did. In fact, it was hard to imagine a time when they hadn't been a part of your life, a constant presence that grounded you and brought both joy and exasperation in equal measure.
For five years now, you had been their handler, guiding them through missions, patching them up when they were injured, and providing a steady anchor amidst the chaos that seemed to follow them wherever they went. What had once been a professional relationship had slowly evolved into something far deeper - and when it came to a certain British fruit with a mustache, you found yourself unable to stay away.
You liked Lemon for his eccentricities and knack for always being able to sense people's intentions. It was remarkable how spot-on he could be on missions. You suppose you could thank his obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine for that...
Lemon, with his eccentricities and uncanny ability to read people's intentions, was a constant source of amusement and admiration. You marveled at how spot-on he could be during missions, his insights often proving invaluable – a skill you jokingly attributed to his obsession with Thomas the Tank Engine.
Just the other day you had happily entertained one of Lemon's rants about Thomas and Friends over earpiece for a good fifteen minutes just to see how long it would take for Tangerine to lose it. And he did as soon as you and Lemon started having a serious debate about whether or not Tangerine was a Gordon, to which Tangerine did not take kindly to. He insisted he was not anything near close to "that arrogant bastard of a train."
You could hear the utter frustration and offense in his voice, his mutterings of various curses, and you imagined how he must have looked all riled up - to the point that all you wanted was to see his face at that very moment.
Lemon was so honestly sweet - always playful. He always asked you about your day and remembered the smallest things about you. He also knew exactly what to do to push Tangerine's buttons, which you couldn't help but find amusing. Beneath his quirks was a true heart of gold, for he never failed to coax a smile out of you, no matter how bleak the circumstance.
And Tangerine - well, he was Tangerine. He was complicated, to say the least, and you couldn't imagine him as being anything else. Since the beginning, there had been this tension between the two of you - at first, the two of you were at each other's throats - swapping insults and cursing at one other. Lemon may have had to intervene on more than one occasion to get the two of you to snap out of it.
Something, changed though - not significantly but enough for you to notice. You suspect it had something to do with a very long-ass conversation Lemon had with Tangerine after a taxing mission that nearly cost them their lives. When you had picked the both of them up, Tangerine and Lemon had their raincoats covered in blood. For someone who was so vocal, so uptight, Tangerine was positively silent after that mission. He didn't insult you back and barely responded with anything other than one-word utterances - it was unnerving, concerning even.
You didn't like it. You didn't like seeing Tangerine so solemn, so hopeless. You were driving the car in utter silence and at some point Lemon had fallen asleep, or so you thought... Tangerine was in the passenger's seat beside you with a blank stare - he wasn't even looking out the window. No, he just looked straight on at the empty road ahead.
He had a cut on his forehead and a split lip, dried blood stains running down the side of his face. Without looking down, he was taking his golden knuckle-dusters on and off. You had half of a mind to reach out and steady his trembling hands as you were driving, but you were afraid perhaps of how he might react. And yet, despite all of this, you thought he looked as beautiful as you had ever seen him.
You called his name, cautiously and quietly. He didn't respond. You tried once more and he didn't give any impression that he had heard you. You had to do something. Anything to get him out of this stupor. So, maybe when you thought Lemon wasn't listening and had fallen asleep in the back of the car, you had started going off on some tangent about having finally read some of the novels Tangerine kept on going on and on about.
You mentioned his favorites: Wuthering Heights, The Stranger, Fahrenheit 451... Because if there was anything you knew about Tangerine, it's that he was passionate about classics to the point that he even quoted and analyzed fucking Dostoveksy in the middle of a kill on multiple occasions. Maybe the fact that you and him were both quite the book nerds actually made him all the more attractive to you.
As you continued to ramble about the novels you had read that Tangerine was so passionate about, the air in the car grew thick with tension, the silence punctuated only by the steady hum of the engine.
You didn't dare look at him - part of you didn't really expect him to listen. So instead, you kept your gaze focused on the empty road ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel as you spoke.
"I finally got around to reading 'Fahrenheit 451, you know," you began, your voice soft and measured. "I have to say, I can see why you're so taken with it. It's simply written yet so applicable to modern society and the dangers of censorship. It truly makes one think about what it would mean to live in a world without literature."
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tangerine's head turn ever so slightly in your direction, his brow furrowed as if he were trying to process your words.
Emboldened by this flicker of response, you continued. "And I hadn't read The Stranger in a good while but it resonated with me particularly deeply this second time, Camus' exploration of existentialism and the human condition...I was drawn into Meursault's detached perspective, his ability to confront the harsh realities of life with such unflinching clarity."
A soft exhale, barely audible, escaped Tangerine's lips, and you felt your heart quicken its pace. You were reaching him, slowly but surely, pulling him back from the depths of whatever darkness had consumed him.
"But I think my favorite, at least so far, has to be Wuthering Heights," you continued, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
"The way Brontë captures the rawness of human emotion, the intensity of love and loss – it's truly remarkable. And the relationship between Cathy and Heathcliff - it's passionate," you said, your voice trailing off as you hesitated, the words catching in your throat. You could feel Tangerine's gaze on you, intense and searching, waiting for you to continue.
"Cathy and Heathcliff," you began again, your voice soft and contemplative. "They're... they're bound together by something... something powerful and all-consuming. Their love is - it's turbulent, chaotic, but it's also - undeniable."
This time, Tangerine's reaction was unmistakable. He turned his head fully towards you, his eyes seeking out yours, and in that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. His eyes were filled with an indescribable emotion and his whole focus was on you. You met his eyes only to avoid them.
"You read them," he murmured, his voice rough and laced with a hint of disbelief.
You nodded, finally allowing yourself to meet his gaze. "Of course I did," you replied, your tone gentle. "They're important to you, and I wanted to understand why."
Tangerine's eyes remained locked with yours, his gaze penetrating and unreadable. For a moment, he simply stared, seemingly struggling with the words that threatened to spill forth.
Finally, he spoke, Tangerine's tone measured but with the barest hint of softness bleeding through. "I didn't think you'd actually read them," he admitted, a crease forming between his brows. "Those books...they're important to me. More than just words on a page."
Tangerine turned away, his eyes focusing on some distant point beyond the windshield. You could see the muscle in his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. "I'm surprised you understood them so well," he murmured, the words seeming almost painful for him to voice.
There was a brief silence before Tangerine continued. "I've always had...difficulty...letting people in. Connecting on that deeper level." His fingers drummed against the door restlessly. "But you - you saw right through to the heart of those stories. You truly understood it."
Another pause, this one longer, more weighted. When Tangerine finally spoke again, his words were clipped, guarded - as if he were struggling to maintain that protective wall he'd carefully constructed around himself.
"Don't read too much into it though," he muttered gruffly, shifting in his seat. "They're just books in the end. It doesn't mean anything."
But his eyes told a different story as they flickered back towards you, full of unspoken longing and vulnerability he was so desperately trying to conceal. Your fingers on the steering wheel twitched, practically begging to reach to him, to take his hands in yours, to tell him that you understood. That he didn't have to keep up this facade around you.
For a fleeting second, you saw a glimpse of the real Tangerine - the one who lived and breathed those books, whose soul resonated with the turbulent depths of Heathcliff and Cathy's obsessive love. The one who felt everything so intensely that he was forced to cage those emotions, to push others away for fear of being consumed.
You opened your mouth to respond, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. Tangerine straightened, clearing his throat roughly as he turned his attention back towards the empty road ahead. His walls were firmly back in place, that flash of vulnerability carefully tucked away.
"Just drive, Peach," he muttered, his voice now flat and devoid of any trace of the rawness you had witnessed mere seconds ago. "We've got a long way to go still."
~
After that incident, you and him went back to quarreling as usual though it was less heated, more like playful teasing. And you could have sworn Tangerine had started looking at you differently. Sometimes you'd find him gazing at you for a few seconds too long and when you gave him a questioning look back, he avoided your eyes.
Maybe - just maybe - you weren't so immune to giving into the tension between the two of you either. When you tended to the cuts and bruises he accumulated during missions, your touches perhaps lingered a beat too long, savoring the warmth of his skin and the subtle catch of his breath.
And Tangerine, for all his gruffness, could not entirely mask the softening of his features when your gazes met and held for those endless seconds. The pink dusting his sharp cheekbones whenever you aimed a teasing barb his way hinted at vulnerabilities he struggled to conceal behind his prickly exterior.
The friction between the two of you had become undeniable. Every snide remark, every heated debate about classical literature, seemed laced with unresolved tensions that threatened to combust at any moment.
Perhaps it was reckless to allow these flames to be stoked, you mused as you studied Tangerine's profile while he bent over the mission briefing. But there was a thrill in dancing along the precipice, in pushing the limits of how far you could go before that line was finally crossed.
Lemon's knowing glances whenever he sensed the charged atmosphere only fanned the flames further. That grin curving his lips made it clear he found humor in bearing witness to the escalating heat between his two companions. If anyone recognized the forbidden yearnings you each harbored, it was him. And was eager, practically praying for the two of you to get your heads out of your asses and realize your feelings for one another. And that time would come.
~
The mission had gone sideways in the blink of an eye. One minute they were making their way through the compound, and the next, a hail of gunfire erupted from all angles.
Your heart stopped when the frantic voice crackled over the comms. "Fucking hell - Peach! Tangerine's been hit and he's losing blood!"
Lemon's panicked tones sent ice flooding your veins. You scrambled for the extraction vehicle, hands shaking as you attempted to program the coordinates for the rendezvous point. Bile rose in your throat at the thought of losing him...of losing Tangerine.
What felt like an eternity later, the doors burst open and Lemon staggered inside, half-carrying, half-dragging Tangerine's bloodied form. Your breath caught in your lungs at the sight - his pallid face, the crimson blossoming across his abdomen, soaking through the field dressings haphazardly applied.
"Oh god-" A garbled cry tore from your lips as you rushed forward, hands already working to strip away his tac gear.
Lemon made his way to the front of the vehicle as you were opening every med kit the back of the van contained for gauze and something to stop the blood. Lemon drove anxiously and way over the speed limit.
"Rheneas...you have to be Rheneas," he yelled, the words jumbled as he fought to remain calm. "Brave and resourceful, just like you. You can do this!"
You barely registered his nonsensical Thomas rambling as you focused on staunching the steady flow of blood. Observing the wound critically, you noticed that the bullet had gone straight through but shrapnel had been left behind. You had to start moving before Tangerine bled the fuck out.
Deep breaths, Peach.
“Tangerine,” you murmured, a quiver in your voice. He groaned in response but it seemed as though he was going in and out of consciousness. No. He would not die today.
You tried again, your voice more urgent, desperate, “Tangerine!”
Tangerine's harsh, wet breaths cut through the tense silence, each one a fight for life. His eyes fluttered open, fever-bright and struggling to focus on your face hovering above.
“I have to remove the shrapnel before I can stitch you up, alright? I need you to be strong for me.”
Your hand found Tangerine's, giving his calloused fingers a reassuring squeeze as you met his fever-glazed eyes. "I'm here, Tangerine. Just focus on me, okay?"
He managed the barest dip of his chin in acknowledgment, jaw locked tight against the waves of agony rippling through his battered frame. Steeling yourself, you grasped the forceps with a steadiness that belied the frantic gallop of your pulse.
"Deep breaths," you murmured, the desperation yet softness in your voice slipping out unbidden as your focus narrowed to a laser point.
With deft precision, you delved into the ragged bullet wound, probing for the fragmented pieces of shrapnel lodged amid the tattered flesh. A guttural groan tore from Tangerine's clenched teeth as you worked, his grip on your hand verging on crushing.
"That's it, just hold onto me," you coached, willing every ounce of strength into the man beneath your hands. "You're doing so well, Tangerine. I'm right here."
Tangerine's panting breaths had grown shallow and rapid, his eyes squeezed shut against the onslaught of agony. You watched in rapt focus as a sheen of sweat bloomed across his brow, dampening the tawny strands that stuck in matted clumps to his ashen skin.
Then, with a final twist of the forceps, you carefully pulled free the last insidious fragment. Tangerine arched from the floor, a hoarse bellow tearing from his very core as he rode out the finality of the searing torment.
"Fuckin' hell!"
His hand clenched around yours with crushing force, fingertips digging desperately into your flesh as if you were his only tether in that moment of anguish.
"I've got you, I've got you," you found yourself chanting over the litany of his ragged gasps and Lemon's frantic reassurances over the comms. "You're okay, Tangerine. You're going to be okay."
At last, the tension bled from his corded frame as his body slumped back in total, wrecked exhaustion. His eyes slitted open, still burning with fever but now hazy with shock and blood loss. Tangerine's chapped lips parted soundlessly as his gaze found and locked onto yours with lazer-focus.
For an endless heartbeat, he simply held your stare, a thousand unspoken sentiments and emotions bleeding across the jagged planes of his face.
"Peach..."
The solitary word was little more than a broken rasp, rough and guttural. Yet it contained so much meaning - apologies and promises were woven into that single syllable that hung in the air between you.
Then Tangerine's eyes slipped shut once more as he surrendered at last to oblivion, his hand falling limp yet warm in your grasp. You stared at his deathly still features unblinking, his name echoing like a sacred prayer in your thundering pulse.
"Hang on, Tangerine," you pleaded, voice cracking as you rapidly worked the needle and thread through the ragged wound. "Please - please don't leave me."
Fumbling with the med kit, you quickly threaded a curved needle, hands surprisingly steady despite your inner turmoil. At the front of the vehicle, Lemon continued his soothing chants, something about diesel engines and Sir Topham Hatt, but the words were white noise in your ears. All that mattered was the fragile thread of life you fought so valiantly to preserve through each meticulous stitch. At last, the final knot was tied off and you sagged with sheer physical and emotional exhaustion.
Only then did your own harsh sobs spill forth, harsh and visceral. Burying your face in Tangerine's sweat-damp hair, you clung to him with everything you had, chest heaving with the force of your cries. Tears traced rivers down your cheeks, baptizing his skin with your anguished relief that he yet lived.
At some point Lemon appeared beside you, the door to the van wide open. His soothing hand smoothed circles across your shuddering back as you rode out the storm of emotion. His voice a soft murmur, words of solace about how you were Sir Handel, the reliable, brave-hearted one.
Somehow, Lemon had managed to coax you into helping him carry Tangerine into the safe house. How - you weren't sure because you were in quite a state. And despite Lemon's insistence upon you getting some rest, you swore that you wouldn't leave Tangerine's bedside until he woke up - at which Lemon gave a knowing glance.
At some point, utterly drained, you must have slipped into an exhausted slumber slumped at Tangerine's side. Because the next thing you were aware of was his calloused fingers brushing feather-light against your damp cheek.
You blinked awake groggily to find Tangerine's intense gaze drinking you in as if you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. His split lips curved in the barest hint of a smile - tired yet impossibly tender.
And that was when the floodgates broke anew. With a harsh sob, you flung yourself against him, face buried in the solid warmth of his neck as you clung with fierce desperation. He was alive - he was alive and with you still.
Tangerine's strong arms enveloped you, holding you impossibly close as his injured body would allow. His lips brushed your hairline in a whisper of a kiss.
"I'm here, love," he rasped, the endearment somehow freighted with a thousand unspoken vows and emotions. "I'm right here. I won't leave you."
Tangerine cradled you against his chest, his fingers tenderly stroking the tear-streaked paths along your cheeks. Each brush of his fingertips was a reassuring caress, a silent vow that he was truly there - battered yet blessedly alive.
"Shh, it's alright now," he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion but impossibly gentle. "I've got ya."
You nodded tremulously against the solid warmth of his neck, inhaling the achingly familiar scent of gunpowder and sandalwood that was distinctly him. Tangerine's arms tightened fractionally, and you melted deeper into his embrace, drawing solace from the steady thrum of his heart against your cheek.
For a while, the rest of the world seemed to fade away until there was nothing but the rise and fall of his breaths, the reassuring metronome of life woven between your entangled forms.
When at last you drew back enough to meet his gaze, the corners of Tangerine's eyes had softened with an emotion you realized now you'd seen flickering there for longer than you cared to admit - a profound depth of feeling he'd never allowed himself to truly acknowledge until this moment.
His thumb traced the delicate curve of your lower lip with a touch so reverent it stole the very breath from your lungs. "You're something else, ya know that?" The words were little more than a hoarse rasp but held a world of unspoken meaning.
Unable to find your own voice past the tidal wave of emotion surging within, you simply leaned into his touch. This earned you the ghost of a smile, more felt than seen, as Tangerine's fingers slipped into the strands at your nape to cup your head with achingly tender possession.
Then, with agonizing slowness, he drew you towards him until your foreheads rested flush, sharing the same tremulous breaths in the scant space between your parted lips. His eyes slipped closed, seemingly savoring this suspended intimacy in which all masks had fallen away, leaving only the exquisite vulnerability of surrender.
"Tangerine..." you breathed his name like a prayer, pouring every ounce of yearning and relief into that solitary utterance.
His lashes fluttered open at the sound, eyes blazing with an intensity that seared straight through to your soul. Then, with the barest tilt of his head, Tangerine closed that last distance and sealed his mouth over yours in a kiss softer than down yet more searing than any brand.
The world around you seemed to come to a halt as you surrendered to the achingly sweet brush of his lips, to the unbearable tenderness of hands cradling you as if you were the most precious thing on Earth. This was a kiss transcending mere physical desire - it was an awakening, a benediction, a binding of your very essence in that single searing moment of connection.
When at last you parted, foreheads still pressed together, Tangerine's fingers traced idle patterns along the pulse point beneath your jaw in silent worship. His eyes shone with naked vulnerability and something deeper, more profound - the promise of an emotion that would be reckless for either of you to put a name to...not just yet.
But in that moment, no words were necessary. The simmering glances, the heated banter, the pushing of boundaries over the years...it had all led you both inexorably to this point of transcendence.
Lemon's soft chuckle from across the van was enough to shatter the spell momentarily. Catching your eye, he offered a warm, knowing smile - the expression of someone bearing witness to the inevitability that had been unfolding between you and Tangerine from that very first moment of friction.
"Took you two long enough," was all he said, but you heard the oceans of meaning in his affectionate tone.
You laughed wetly in response, reaching out a hand in a silent gesture of inclusion that had Lemon rising to join you both without hesitation. He sat beside you both, grinning as you rolled your eyes at him. Resting your head against Tangerine's shoulder, you allowed your eyes to drift closed in solemn contentment.
Lemon speaks up, a thoughtful expression upon his face, "You know I still think Tangerine's a Gordon - bossy and stubborn..."
Tangerine scowls at that, "I'll have ya know that I am nothing like that fucking cunt-"
"No - I think you are," you begin, smiling cheekily, and Tangerine looks at you, tired to be sure, but with narrowed eyes and slight amusement.
Tangerine opened his mouth, no doubt to protest your cheeky comparison, but you laid a finger across his lips, effectively silencing him.
"Just listen," you murmured, eyes sparkling with impish mirth. "Gordon may be pompous at times, but he's also powerful, regal, depended on by everyone on Sodor."
Sliding your hand to tenderly cup Tangerine's jaw, you held his inscrutable gaze as you continued. "You're our Gordon, Tangerine. Gruff and uncompromising on the outside, but with a core of integrity and fortitude that keeps us all pushing forward, no matter what."
Lemon nodded sagely beside you. "She's right, you know. Why d'you think I give you such a hard time?" He flashed that mischievous grin. "Got to keep that ego of yours in check."
Tangerine scoffed, but you caught the barely perceptible crinkling at the corners of his eyes - the ghost of a smile he couldn't quite suppress. Leaning in, you brushed the faintest whisper of a kiss across the corner of his mouth, savoring the rough rasp of his mustache.
"Don't worry, Mr. Gordon," you teased lowly. "We all know there's a big softy beneath that gruff exterior."
A low rumbling sound akin to a contented purr vibrated from deep within Tangerine's chest as he nuzzled his nose against your temple. "Keep that cheek up and you'll see just how soft I can be, darlin'."
The heated undertone in his gravelly timbre raised a delicious frisson along your skin. You bit your lip, holding back a breathless giggle at his not-so-thinly veiled innuendo.
"Well now, I do believe that's my cue to make myself scarce," Lemon piped up, winking broadly as he levered himself up with a dramatic groan. "You two kids have fun. But not too much fun - we've got that briefing at 19:00 sharp."
His departure was punctuated by a rude hand gesture from Tangerine, which only made Lemon's wheezing laughter echo more loudly. You watched him go with a fond shake of your head, savoring the warmth and levity he'd brought to the tender moment.
Then you turned your full attention back to Tangerine, trailing light fingertips along the stark lines and cuts that mapped his beloved face. His gaze caught and held yours, open and vulnerable in a way you'd never seen before - the mask utterly discarded.
"So...Mr. Gordon," you murmured, lips curving. "What shall we do while we've got some privacy?"
Tangerine's hand caressed your jaw, slowly bringing your foreheads together with unexpected gentleness. When at last he spoke, his deep baritone caressed your very soul.
"How about you tell me another story about your favorite trains? I could use a refresher on just why Gordon's supposed to be so bloody remarkable."
You laughed then, bright and unfettered, at the unexpected softness cloaking his rough-hewn edges. Throwing your arms around him, you held on tightly, your face in his neck, all awash with a sense of rightness and belonging that you'd struggled to find for far too long.
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@kpopgirlbtssvt @little-miss-dilf-lover @sebsbarnes @kiss-me-cill-me @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @spookyspecterino @liukangsgirl @azureseacloud @pretty-little-mind33 i really hope you guys enjoy!
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𝐓𝐰𝐨-𝐁𝐢𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞
↳ notes: tagging @orinscrivellos who motivated me to write this. i really enjoyed doing it
↳ warnings: slight implications of transhobia. nothing directly mentioned
↳ song: a little less conversation—elvis presley
masterlist | commissions | carrd
• Two-Bit thinks you’re super kickass for being out and open about yourself in the way you are. It is the sixties after all, and along with living on the East side of town, you aren’t exactly getting treated the best
• But that doesn’t really matter to you. As long as the gang, and most importantly Two-Bit, likes you, then you couldn’t care less
• So yeah, Two-Bit thinks you’re brave. Probably calls you his ‘fearless knight,’ and treats you poshly for a good laugh sometimes. Or about as posh as he can pretend to get. He’s never been really good at playing a rich character despite his improvisation skills. You suppose it’s the way he was raised, the way all of you were raised, that makes it difficult
• Is loud and proud about you being his partner. Unless you want him keeping it under wraps, Two-Bit will pretty much scream it from the mountain tops about how much he loves his boyfriend. Consequences be damned
• “Golly, Two, you just don’t stop talking about him do you?” Ponyboy ogles at his friend as they make their way down the street, heading to meet you for a night out at the Nightly Double. He was in disbelief that anyone could ever talk so much and for so long, much less about the same thing. Even Soda didn’t use to talk about Sandy this much
• “Nope!” Two-Bit pops his ‘p’ loudly, grinning like a shark as he continues on with his train of thought. Pony just shook his head in a mix of awe and horror, already regretting that he had thought to ask Two-Bit how you had been doing. And that was over ten minutes ago!
• Two-Bit has definitely gotten into fights to ‘defend your honor,’ as he likes to put it—most of the time he can hear people at his school bad mouthing you, which any one of you can handle. You don’t live the greaser life without getting your name dragged through the mud after all—but when they start throwing out those names about you, he’ll start a fight quicker than you could blink
• “Oh glory.” You stare at Two-Bit unblinking one afternoon. Two shiny new black eyes peer back, accompanied by a split lip, and you have to resist the urge to drag a hand down your face in exhaustion.All you had wanted to do is come pick him up from his house, and you were met with this mess
• “What? I’ve been trying on a new look. What do you think baby?“
• “I think you’re stupid.” You don't even have to ask how he got those, you already know. A part of you swells with affection at the thought of him caring about you enough to do that, but the more responsible part of you pushed it down in order to sigh
• “But you love me.” Two-Bit retorts with a gleeful laugh, sounding like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Which he doesn’t. In his eyes, he’s got all he ever needs. A mom that loves him, a sister that adores his jokes, friends that have his back, and a handsome boyfriend. What more could a greaser like him want?
• If you come out and then transition, in that order, Two-Bit and everyone would definitely help you with your new style. They’ve spent their entire lives in boys clothes, so they have plenty of fashion tips, if you can even call them that, and materials to spare
• if you wear a bigger size, or want baggier clothing, Dallas and Two-Bit with go and nab pretty much anything you want from the nearby corner store. If you like tighter fitting clothing, or run a little gangly, you are always welcome to borrow one of Pony or Johnny’s outfits. They’d give them to you in a heartbeat if you asked
• Hair greasing lessons! They’ll teach you how to grease your hair up nice so you’ll look tuff, until eventually you’ve learned to do it all by yourself. Two-Bit always smiles the biggest when you come out of the bathroom with your hair slicked back. He likes to think he’s got the best looking partner this side of the railroad tracks
• It doesn’t matter what kind of body you have or want. Two-Bit will support you all the way. It’s not like you can really afford testosterone or major surgery considering you live in the slums of Tulsa with everyone else, and those services aren’t exactly offered to the public thanks to laws at the time, but if you manage to get our hands on any of that stuff, the gang will support your recovery/shot sessions all the way; bringing you whatever you need in the moment and all that jazz, even if Dallas or Steve gripe about running errands
• “Here’s your stupid bandaids.” Dally threw a small cardboard box onto the foot of the couch you were sitting on with a slight rattle. You look up to thank him, and he just blows out a bit of smoke from his mouth. You had half a mind to ask him for a drag of his cigarette, but knew Darry would kill you if he caught you smoking after administering testosterone. He was already nervous enough about you constantly taking shots, so you didn’t want to worry him anymore
• “No problem.” Dallas’ gaze drifted over to Two-Bit, who was sitting next to you, and he smiled lazily
• “Hey Two? If the two of you are banging, does that make you gay, or straight?”
• Dally walked away from that conversation that day with a bruise on his arm and a big laugh tumbling from his lips
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Text
Lloyd is a chronic insomniac. He doesn't know when it started, but he has never been able to sleep. If he thinks he's enough, it started around when he got shipped off to Darkley's. Something about pranks in his sleep and being too scared to leave his body vulnerable to attack.
It doesn't matter how it started, though, because now he can't sleep. It's a curse, really, to be left alone in his own mind - trapped with no reprieve from the crushing weight of his mountain-heavy mistakes.
He stays up all night laying in his bed just thinking. Thinking about his dad - no, that's not his dad - Garmadon, thinking about Zane's death, thinking about Cole's death, thinking about Nya's death, thinking about everything that he has ever done that brought him to this very breaking point. He thinks.
It'd gotten to a place where he doesn’t even care about sleeping anymore; he just wants to rest his brain. He just wants to turn it off for a little while. Just for a second. He'd settle for half.
Some nights, he doesn't bother pretending to try and sleep. He gets out of his bed under the pretense of a glass of water or the bathroom, then spends the rest of the night training or watching his favorite shows. But that can only happen so often before someone notices his absence, which is exactly what happened today.
He couldn't sleep like any other day, which is normal. As he lay there in the darkness, Lloyd's mind raced with thoughts that felt like a whirlwind of regrets and missed opportunities. It wasn't just the physical exhaustion that plagued him; it was the relentless barrage of memories and what-ifs that kept him prisoner in his own mind. He tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but no matter how he shifted, sleep eluded him like a distant dream.
His eyes flickered to the digital clock on his bedside table, its numbers mocking him as they steadily ticked away the minutes of another sleepless night. 2:37 AM. It was a familiar sight by now, the harsh glow of the numbers serving as a constant reminder of his insomnia.
With a sigh, Lloyd pushed himself up into a sitting position, his gaze wandering to the window where the moon cast its silver light into his room. He longed for the peace that sleep promised, the temporary escape from the relentless burden of his thoughts. But it seemed that peace was as elusive as sleep itself.
Turning away from the window, Lloyd swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the cool floor sending a shiver up his spine. He knew he should try to sleep, should at least make the effort to rest his weary mind. But the thought of lying there in the darkness, alone with his thoughts, was too much to bear.
Instead, he padded silently across the room, careful not to wake his sleeping teammates. He had become adept at moving silently in the night, a skill born out of necessity rather than choice. As he reached the door, he paused, his hand hovering over the handle.
Should he go back to bed and try to sleep, or should he give in to the urge to escape his own mind? It was a question he grappled with every night, a battle between exhaustion and restlessness.
In the end, the pull of the training room was too strong to resist. With a determined nod, Lloyd pushed open the door and slipped out into the hallway, the darkness swallowing him whole as he made his way towards the familiar glow of the training lights. Perhaps tonight, he thought, he would find some solace in the rhythmic movements of his training routine, a temporary distraction from the turmoil within.
After Lloyd had trained for a while, lost in the rhythm of his movements, he heard the soft creak of the training room door opening behind him. Turning, he saw his teammates entering, their expressions soft with concern.
"Lloyd, we noticed you were gone again," Nya said gently, stepping forward to stand beside him.
Lloyd's heart skipped a beat, a mix of surprise and apprehension swirling within him. He hadn't expected them to follow him, to witness his midnight training sessions.
"Yeah, we were worried about you," Jay added, his usual cheerful demeanor replaced with a more serious tone.
Lloyd shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under their watchful gazes. He had always been so careful to keep his struggles hidden, to bear the weight of his insomnia alone. But now, faced with the concern of his teammates, he found himself at a loss for words.
"I..." Lloyd began, his voice faltering as he searched for the right words. "I didn't mean to worry you."
Kai stepped forward, his expression softened with understanding. "We know, Lloyd. But we're a team, remember? We look out for each other."
Lloyd felt a lump form in his throat at Kai's words, a surge of emotion welling up within him. For so long, he had felt isolated by his struggles, alone in the darkness of his own mind. But here, surrounded by his teammates who had become more like family, he realized that he didn't have to face his demons alone.
As they gathered around him, offering words of encouragement and support, Lloyd felt a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over him. He may never be free from his insomnia, may never fully escape the nightmares that haunted his sleepless nights. But with his teammates by his side, he knew that he would never have to face them alone.
And as they stood together in the quiet of the training room, Lloyd couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite within him, a beacon of light in the darkness of his endless night.
---
This one was rushed !! Sorry <3
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ghastlybirdie · 22 hours
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cw: dementia, short mentions of ultrasounds/children but gn!reader (no use of y/n or names, just 'you')
You always hated the color orange; ever since you were a child you hated it. It wasn't a gentle color like green and it never brought you happiness like yellow. It doesn't even suit your skin tone so you never could quite understand its purpose.
So why were you wearing an orange gown? It wasn't the worst looking shade of orange you've ever seen, but you didn't like the halter top or the bedazzled bodice of it all. Your hair is done so nice and the minimalistic amount of jewelry was tasteful. The strangest part, though, was the other person in the frame. You didn't recognize them. You hardly could of recognized yourself. But it was you, and beside you was a tall gentleman, your arm is slung over his and your head resting against his shoulder.
He's handsome, you think, but he's so clean, babied-faced and awkward in the picture. He's wearing a fancy sort of hat and a neatly pressed navy colored uniform, one with gold and green and red and blue badges a plenty. And his blue eyes shone in the flash of the camera light, his free hand resting on yours.
He's better off with a beard.
And you were right! The next photo you flip through you find yourself again, this time in a much more flattering red blouse, sitting across from the same man. You can tell cause he has the same smile, much more natural now, and the same blue eyes still sparkling through, and a beard grown in. The two of you are at a fancy table judging by the wine glasses and candles lit beside you, and he was holding your hand again, looking at you fondly. Despite the yellowing photo in your hand, it felt so real even just looking down at it. He's holding your hand so gently, even though the place and time eludes you, you could almost feel it in your fingers right now.
You could almost feel a calloused hands, rough in the pads of their fingers and palms, yet clammy all the same. You can't remember why. It was infuriating cause there was a taste in your mouth that made you salivate and belly grumble but you couldn't put your finger on why. If it wasn't for the half eaten plate of food in another photo, you wouldn't have remember that that was the food you ordered. You wondered if it was good. Was it? In the next photo it was you and the man again. Still holding your hand and presenting it to the camera, showed a ring on your finger. You looked so happy. So did he.
What a gorgeous wedding dress. It was ethereal. Serene. It was exactly everything someone could hope for. What you would of hoped for. Long train, full skirt but not heavy, sleeves that fell off your shoulders tastefully, and a bouquet that held all your favorite flowers.
Such a gorgeous photo, a beautiful alter and wedding venue... and such a gorgeous man. He's dressed simply. Tux, matching flowers, freshly cut hair. And mutton chops. You think it's strange... But still very attractive.
The photo is warm and bright, the people surrounding the two of you as you shared a kiss with the gentleman. You know he's the same one. You can feel it in the way your heart aches and pumps inside your chest.
What a lovely photo.
The rest make your heart ache more. Photos of others, more men with rugged and scarred faces, drinking and laughing while you stood over a grill. Photos of the man on the ground, in the grass, a dog laying on top of him. Photos of times of laughter and cheer, of family and friends, you think. Times of happiness. Pictures of ultrasounds and babies, toddlers running and school photos of plenty. Photos of memories. Frozen memories.
Photos that now rest wet in your hands, your vision blurry and hands shaking, a whimper leaving you even though just a moment ago you were just smiling. You were laughing when they were laughing. Smiling when these people smiled. None of them cried, so why did you?
You can't remember why. You couldn't remember why you started to cry. You wept, even, as you pulled the photos out of the protective sleeves, tossing the album book to your feet as you looked over each photo.
You knew that these were photos of you, photos you stood and posed in, photos that had sounds and scents already built into them without a reason in your mind why.
And this man. This man plagued almost every single one. You were so close to tearing one printed picture in two, one of you in that wedding dress you can't quite put your finger on why you were even in front of the camera in the first place; but you paused when you caught sight of writing on the back.
~Wedding Day - Spring of 2014~
So you checked another.
~141 Bar Crawl, Bachelor Party~
And another.
~John's Big Day - Ceremonial Banquet~
John. The man with the beard? The man in your photos, the one with the blue eyes and crinkly eyes?
"Love, what are you doing?" A coarse, gravel voice jolted you in your seat, the rage filled tears ceasing long enough for you to see from where the source of your fright came from.
The man stood over you with a frown in his brows, nose whistling through the mustache as he peered down at you. He gripped a cup in one hand, kneeling down with a deep groan to pick up the photos scattered at your feet.
Your eyes never left him. Never lifted from his features. His hands were rough, even from here you could tell, and his mutton chops were still the same: full and well maintained, though much much more grey. Even with the annoyance they held, his eyes were still the same, brilliant blue. They were much better in person than in the photos.
John.
"I told Maggie not to leave these things out. Oh- You even took my favorite one out." Despite how unkindly of a mess you've made, he never raised his voice. Bothered no doubt, but not angry. Not towards you, you think. Even now, as the photos were carefully plucked and placed back in the photo album, his voice remained calm. Soft.
John.
He sat on the arm chair next to yours, nothing in between you two other than the well loved upholstered chairs you both sat in, both facing towards the bay window and overlooking a tidy garden.
"Do you remember this day?" He asks gently.
Yes. You shake your head. He sighs, something sad in his exhale.
"This is the day I married you." He speaks as if raising his voice would unleash a well kept secret. "I think it's one of the best I've ever looked." He smiled at you, blue eyes so bright, crinkling the same way they've always had.
John.
"And this was when I came home with a broken collar bone. I never seen you so angry before- Oh, love."
You're crying again. You can't remember why, but you understand. His thumb wipes away your tears, thumb pad much softer now after all these years.
"Don't cry. Not for this. We can look at these another day." He's tired. You can hear it in his voice. You heard it whenever he came home. It was so familiar. "I made us stew in the slow cooker, okay? I'll get you a bowl and we can watch something on the telly, yeah?" He stood before you could answer, though you don't think you could. Your tongue was heavy with words, the tip weighed down with something that made your whole body shake. He didn't seem to noticed, focused on his thoughts that he spoke aloud. Just as he always did.
"John..?"
He stood stone still, a shiver visibly running down his spine. He couldn't move like he used to, the captain retired decades ago and stiffness settled into his old bones by now, but he turned so fast that the room spun with him.
You both stared at each other in silence, the air heavy with something unspoken in the past several years, the seconds passing by painfully long. You were the one who finally broke the silence.
"John... Oh- John..!" Was all you could say, your voice rasp and cracking from lack of use, tears once more falling from your eyes and onto your lap. "John, Jo-John... I missed you."
John's face mirrored yours, trembling hands and watery eyes as his mind settled back into his body, feet already moving towards you. He called your name, tender as it ever was, as you cried and reached for his hands. You held them tight as if they'd disappear right from your grasp. He didn't mind. He held you just as tight. Looked at you just as deeply. There were words exchanged in your touch and gaze, ones you both practices and done time and time again.
But you knew those words weren't the ones you wanted to say. You wanted to say more, they were held prisoner in your mouth for so long, yet those weren't what you wanted to say. You knew you meant more. You tried, you did. I love you. You're an angel. I'm sorry. You're my husband. You're my life. I see you, John. I'm here, too. I love you.
But you forgot.
Instead, all that you could say was: "I need to go home..."
John's smile didn't break, not enough for you to see, he kept it up just for you; the smile, the photos, the old music and all. He kept it in hopes to help your memory. It worked, once upon a time, but time waits for no one or thing. It was a crude lesson for many. For him, it was a lesson learned again and again. And for a moment, he nearly lost hope.
"I know, love, I know." He wiped away your tears once more, letting his own fall into his beard and mask the weight that crushed his heart day by day, little by little. "You're home. I'm here. Come, come help me tidy up, yeah? Dinner is ready, love."
Okay, John.
---
Inspired by this prompt~
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