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jungkookschin · 5 months

Text

older part 3

think i need someone older, just a little bit colder, take the weight off your shoulders

synopsis: your friends say you're delusional for thinking you have a chance with jungkook, your parents' friends' son, but you just can't seem to let him go.

alternatively, you break jungkook's heart and jungkook enlists in the army to get over you--- but he can't just fuck off from your life forever; your lives are infinitely intertwined

word count: 21k

pairing: older!jk x afab reader

genre: age gap au (seven years), childhood acquaintance au, fluff, comedy, angsty, outta pocket, alludes to sexual innuendoes, there is a mention of jungkook shooting someone lol, non explicit smut, mentions of sex

OLDER MASTERLIST

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

When it comes to you, Jungkook’s window of tolerance extends towards the sun and the stars, to Jupiter and Saturn, if you will. For you, he’ll willingly undertake deeds he won’t even entertain for anyone else.

Anything for you. Whenever and wherever.

He will, in fact, swoop in and rescue you from a 2AM party (like the Prince Charming he is), even if it means disrupting his beauty sleep because as much as likes your friends, he doesn’t trust them to take you home safely, especially when alcohol is involved. Scratch that, he doesn’t really trust anybody to take you home besides himself. Even with work the next day, the appeal of sleep drowns when you’re drunkenly texting him from some frat mansion at who knows where.

Approximately 10% of his biweekly earnings are devoted to you, his princess. He would never utter these sentiments aloud, yet he embraces them willingly, indulging in gestures of affection reserved solely for you.

He’s not afraid to wipe your tears, stick his fingers into your nose, or to touch any bodily fluid (given that it comes from you), because it’s you and his being simply isn’t capable of conjuring feelings of disgust when it’s you.

He sees you and he loves you, but a man can only take so much.

“What?” you ask quietly, breathless, like the wind’s been knocked from your lungs.

Jungkook exhales deeply, straightening his posture as he runs his hands across his face. “Y/N. Get out of my apartment. I’m serious.”

You think that this is the first time in the history of the world Jungkook has straight up told you to leave.

“Why?”

“Why?” Jungkook repeats, “What do you mean, why? You ignored me for four months straight. Thanks for spending the night, but you need to leave.”

Jungkook, just a man though he may be, is simply incapable to resist when you show up at his doorstep in the dead of the night- and even if he welcomes you into his home for the last time, he simply isn’t able to welcome you back into his heart. How could he willingly allow you to reclaim his heart’s residence after he’s worked so hard to expel you from its throne?

Your blatant disregard for his presence spoke volumes; you didn’t care for him nor did you respect him. Jungkook isn’t going to fold simply because he finds you beautiful and perfect and amazing and everything he’s ever wanted.

“So that’s all I am to you? A quick fuck?”

All the empathy he harbors disperses from his being like a passing breeze, ephemeral and elusive. Evidently, you’ve crossed the line.

Jungkook blinks at you, his expression unreadable, while you inwardly recoil, immediately regretting your words. Jungkook won’t even entertain the notion. He knows you know how much you mean to him, and quite frankly, he’s appalled that you’re blatantly weaponizing something as pure as his love.

“Y/N, I’m not going to see my family in a year, and you came to my place and made it all about yourself. You need to go,” Jungkook’s voice is firm and low, and he looks right at you, disappointment reflected in his pupils.

“I didn’t mean to make it about myself. I just wanted to see you,” You try so desperately hard to rationalize, but he’s right; you weren’t thinking about him, you were thinking about yourself.

“And by doing that, you made it about yourself-” Jungkook rubs his face with his palms, “Y/N. I don’t want to fight. Just go home.”

He hears a gentle sniffle escape you, and it elicits a heavy sigh from Jungkook. It's like a tug at his heartstrings, but he’s already beyond frustrated, and at this point, he wants to be alone.

“Jungkook, I-I love you,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. If I’m better by the time you come back, will you give me a chance?”

As you raise your head, tears cascading down your cheeks, Jungkook's heart clenches at the sight. Jungkook hates seeing you cry, and it makes his heart physically ache, but there will be no appeal to his emotions.

“Y/N- I mean- did you think I was gonna wait forever? You can’t treat a man like that and expect them to wait around forever.”

“But we had sex,” you counter, “The way you fucked me- I know you still love me- so please. I’ll be better. I’ll be better for you. Please,” you beg.

Jungkook exhales softly, leaning into the support of the wall behind him. He remains stoic, neither affirming nor refuting your observation. He offers no gesture of consolation, no attempt to dry your tears.

“Go home.”

If he doesn't want you there, then you’ll leave. Clumsily, you stand up from the bed, picking your clothes up from the ground before haphazardly slipping into them, leaving yourself vulnerable under Jungkook’s gaze.

He doesn’t walk you out.

You open the door and slam it closed before he can let another word out.

Jungkook has always been a constant presence in your life, like the warmth of the sun on a chilly morning.

He’s very aware of the image you have of him in your cute little head, and he does everything he can to fulfill that image for you. He’s well aware of your little prince charming fantasies revolving around him, and truly, truly does everything to be your Prince Charming.

He’ll indulge you, always- to the extent where Mingyu and Taehyung constantly throw the term “sugar daddy” around- and of course Jungkook will roll his eyes, but he won’t deny it.

Jungkook has dropped thousands on you. He’s a single man in his 20’s with way too much money, anyways. So what was he supposed to do? Let all his money sit in his 401K to ensure that he’s financially secure for retirement (🙄) or buy you an unnecessarily expensive designer dress and observe how your face lights up?

Obviously, he’ll choose the latter.

Simultaneously, that doesn’t mean you don’t make him feel the same way. This is so corny, but you’re kind of like the rainbow after a storm, bringing color back to his otherworldly, gloomy world.

Jungkook’s not perfect. Despite what you think, he’s far from perfect.

About half a year ago, he thought he hit rock bottom. And when he hit rock bottom, all he needed was you to remedy his mood.

There was an issue at work where he was accused of leaking confidential information to a competitor. The accusations were baseless, but the damage to his reputation was significant. It felt like his entire world was crumbling around him. He faced scrutiny from his colleagues and doubt from his superiors.

After an excruciating meeting with the company lawyers, he drove back to his mom’s place- his mood as dark as the night enveloping his luxury car. All he wanted was his mommy. He was a 25 year old grown ass man, but all he wanted was his mommy.

As he bursts through the front doors, the familiar scent of his mother's cooking greets his nostrils, wrapping him in a sense of comfort and the feeling of home. He heads towards the kitchen, until he walks into something…

You yelp, rubbing your hand over your forehead.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook mumbles, “My bad, baby. Didn’t see you” Jungkook says apologetically, placing his hands on your shoulders to stabilize you. His eyes glaze over your frame, and he smiles.

You’re in boyshorts and a tank top. Typically of you to treat his parents’ place like it was your own; you’re family anyways.

Jungkook whizzes past you, setting his work backpack on the kitchen counter. You follow him back into the kitchen, attending to the steak being grilled on the stovetop. You whirl around to face him, a mischievous smile spreading across your lips.

“You look… handsome,” you finally say.

Jungkook stares incredulously at you before he bursts into a smile at your anticss. “Oh really? You like me in business formal?” You clasp your palms behind your back and shift your weight between your ankles. “Maybe?” you sheepishly respond, in your typical girlish nature.

Jungkook bites back a laugh, looking at you smugly. “Where’s mom?”

You shrug, “She’s probably with her second boyfriend,” you teasingly muse, lips pouted out before you turn around to perceive his reaction.

Jungkook scoffs at you amusedly before standing up to walk towards you. You smile sheepishly at him, not backing down when he practically towers over you. He pinches your cheek affectionately. “You’re cute, baby,” he jokes, and it makes your heart clench- not in a good way- because he means you’re cute… like a literal infant baby or a puppy, not a woman.

“Did my mom call you over?” he asks, rummaging through the fridge.

You nod, “Mm-hmm. She said she had to go run some errands so she wanted me to make you dinner,” you motion towards the steak sizzling in its pan. “Rare, just how you like it! Ta-da!”

He gazes at you with an affectionate smile. “Thanks. Did you drive here or do I need to drop you off?”

You make a pssh sound with your lips, dismissing the notion with a wave, “I’ve been driving for like two years,” you state matter-a-factly, throwing up a gyaru sign because why not, “I can drive home just fine.”

“Alright, yea,” Jungkook acquiesces, putting his hands up, “You’re all grown up- I get it, I get it.”

“Good,” you respond, plating his steak before handing it to him, “But Jungkook, why are you back home? You usually don’t come home on work nights.”

Jungkook settles at the dining table, before he looks at you and sighs. You tilt your head, very cognizant of his body language. You’re in love with him, of course you can read all his nonverbal cues.

“Just some shit at work,” he explains, “Has me stressed out of my mind.”

You pout, approaching him before you wrap and arm around his shoulder. The moment feels oddly intimate- like he’s returned to his two-story, middle-class home to his wife cooking up a home-made dinner, her touch everything he needs to bring him down from a stressful day at work. He swears he can even hear the kids crying from upstairs.

“Wanna talk about it?” you beckon with your sweet voice.

“Just been accused of some shit,” he mumbles, “Some illegal shit,” he adds, and you rest your head on his shoulder, making him freeze slightly and his chest tighten.

“Don’t worry,” you sweetly comfort, “The truth will always be revealed, and you’ll be cleared eventually. And besides, you’re young, rich, and hot. As long as you know who you are, you don’t need to worry about others.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow slightly before he relaxes his expression. What a juvenile, yet straightforward outlook on life. So simple, yet so… brilliant?

Jungkook knows that you’re more than capable of understanding the complex intricacies of the professional world, but he finds solace in its simplicity as a counterbalance to his excruciating overthinking.

He sighs blissfully, turning towards you. “Give me a hug, baby. I need a hug.”

You nod sweetly and wrap your arms around him. “Of course. Call me any time if you want a hug.”

You coming on to him the night before enlistment was his last opportunity to indulge in you, and he’s only just a man- a weak, weak man, so it’s simply in his nature to succumb to your allure.

Jungkook is now bald, devoid of any hair. Gone with his hair is his sense of confidence. Staring at his reflection, he runs a hand over his bald head, his mood becoming despondent.

One hour ago, you slammed his front door, scurrying down the stairs with tears cascading down your cheeks. Jungkook doesn’t like seeing you cry; he hates seeing you cry- but it’s time to let go and live.

The most daunting aspect of dating with an age-gap is the maturity discrepancy. Like two ships sailing different seas, Jungkook has sailed through weathered storms while your sail catches the wind of youthful possibility.

This discrepancy manifests through communication styles, lifestyle choices, and most importantly, love languages.

You would never, ever do anything to hurt him purposely- but you did.

Nonetheless, what was Jungkook supposed to expect? Undeniably, he loves you with everything in him but was he supposed to expect you to handle things with the maturity of someone his age?

He should’ve known, and for that, he feels dumb.

Feels dumb and like an idiot because you used to cartwheel in his room trying to get his attention. Feels dumb because when you were 11, he was already 18– like, what the fuck is that age gap?

What was he supposed to expect? You lost both of your parents at the same time when you were 20 years old. You’re traumatized, you’re young, and he kinda feels like he took advantage of your juvenile feelings for him- but no, a love like his is pure, and he wants nothing but the best for you, which is why he’s going to let go.

The wind from a slightly ajar window brushes, spreading the hair around the floor and suddenly glitter comes to mind.

Glitter. Sparkles. Fairy Dust.

When you were a senior in high school, Jungkook bought you a prom dress. Your bum ass boyfriend (or situationship- he doesn’t know. He wants to burn the memory of all men who you’ve been with before him) didn’t even want to go to prom with you, and Jungkook, as the great “mom’s friend’s son” he was, offered to buy you a dress- no budget.

Jungkook dropped by your place to drop off some sticky rice, as instructed by his mother; he was a good and obedient son. He knew your parents were at Zumba, so he sent you a quick text in advance. You always responded to his texts immediately, promptly, instantly, right away, and without delay.

You can only imagine Jungkook’s apprehension when it’s been thirty minutes and you still haven’t come to the door.

Normally, Jungkook would have been annoyed to wait this long for you, but he’s actually concerned– because what if you were lying dead in a ditch somewhere? Okay, maybe he shouldn’t go to such extremes, but you were undeniably a gorgeous girl, recently 18, and he knew that so many men had their eyes on you.

Not him, though. He was a gentleman.

Jungkook swings open the door of his car, swiftly walking towards your front door. On cue, the outer door swings open, and you’re standing apprehensively, struggling to unlock the screen door because the fucking lock always gets jammed. The lock just won’t budge and after a good second of trying, you bang your fist against the door, yelling a very non-intimidating “Fuck!”

Jungkook smiles, “Twist the door knob, then try the lock,” he gently instructs. You oblige, and the screen door swings open.

“I’ll come back tomorrow to fix that,” he adds before walking towards your kitchen to place the sticky rice into the fridge.

“Thanks,” you mumble, taking a seat at the dining table.

Jungkook glances back at you from the fridge, “Why’d you cry?”

The question is asked with a subtle casualty, and that makes you want to actually go curl into a ditch and die.

To Jungkook, it was painfully obvious. He’s known you since forever and has all your mannerisms ingrained into his mind like a tattoo. Usually, when you wake up, you’re quite lethargic, stumbling around with your eyes half cracked open- but right now, you’re cognizant as ever.

Furthermore, when you cry, your eyes usually swell up- more so than the average person. After you cry, it’s like your eyes turned into little, red, puffy balls with slits for seeing. And Jungkook had eyes, superb vision, actually, and he could clearly see that your eyes were in fact, swollen.

“t’s nothing,” you mumble, “It’s stupid.”

Jungkook purses his lips, contemplating whether he should push further. Your big mouth keeps going before he can get a word out.

“Well, if I tell you, promise not to judge me?” you ask, sticking out your pinky finger.

Jungkook locks the promise in. “Never,” he breathes.

“Well… it’s just… you know…”

Jungkook raises a brow.

“I just… I hate my boobs.”

Jungkook blinks at you, and you blink at him.

“You said you weren’t going to judge me!”

Jungkook is absolutely flabbergasted. “I just- wait-” he pauses, putting his hands up, “What’s wrong with your boobs? They look normal to me.”

Your features contort into petulance, and you pout. Immediately, you rise, wiping the dust off your shorts before you divulge into the full story. Jungkook can only sit there and listen.

“Okay, listen. Let me start from the beginning,” you start, pacing around, “So I ordered two prom dresses,” you explain, making a peace sign with your hands.

“And they looked so good on the models, but they look horrible on me! Because my boobs are so small and my body looks imbalanced! So I cried about it. I just wanted to feel pretty…. Do you think my parents will be mad at me if I get my tits done?”

Jungkook blinks at you. At the time, he hadn’t a clue of how to respond, but oh how he grew to love your boobs. In fact, he currently wishes that they were swinging in his face.

“Y/N, don’t get a boob job,” is the first thing he says.

What else could he say? He couldn’t tell you that he thinks your body is perfect, or that you’d look stunning in any dress you wear- he did not want to creep you out. “Lemme see you try the dresses,” he offers, “You’re probably in your head- it can’t be that bad.”

“I’m 18,” you counter, “It’s completely legal for me to get a boob job. I don’t even want D’s! I think I would be okay with B’s. In fact, all I need to do is sell a couple feet pictures and I’d have enough to finance my boob job-”

“Y/N. Just try on the dress.”

“Fine,” you huff, puffing up the stairs.

A few moments later, you reappear, and Jungkook almost chokes on his own saliva. The dress you're wearing captures his attention entirely. Its fabric shimmers under the kitchen light, a juxtaposition against the bland interior, cascading in gentle folds as it hugs your curves delicately. With each step, the skirt sways gently, whispering secrets of a night yet to unfold.

Gorgeous. Stunning. Most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he recalls the pang of guilt that washed over him, because you’re seven years younger, and it feels wrong, incongruous.

Fortunately for him, Jungkook is great at hiding his emotions, so even a slightly suspicious clearing of the throat does nothing to phase you.

You pause, blinking at him, and he blinks back at you.

“I told you it was bad!-”

“Wait, no. Stop. It’s not bad…” Jungkook offers.

You blink at each other again.

“Oh, you fucking liar!” you scoff.

“What?” Jungkook retorts, features morphing into confusion, “Why would I lie? I always just say whatever I want to say.“

You groan, plopping onto the dining room table with your arms crossed. “You don’t know anything about prom dresses,” you mutter.

This marked the first time Jungkook perceived you as a woman. He spent a year suppressing it all because of the guilt, but it became inevitable. It bubbled up and exploded; he couldn’t contain it anymore.

“Well…” he started, every so carefully pulling his wallet from his pocket, using two fingers to take out his credit card, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you another one? One more suitable for… flatter chests?”

You gasped like you’d never breathed air before, jumping to your feet, “Really? Would you really do that?!”

Jungkook shrugged casually, did everything to mask his thunderous heartbeat banging in his chest, “Yea, why not? I have money.”

At that, you squealed, jumping on both feet before you absolutely enveloped him in a hug.

Still staring at his reflection, Jungkook returns to Earth. You’re so childish and dumb, but he can’t help that he’s deeply enamored with you, and because of that, he’s going to go to the military and pretend like he never existed in the first place.

In the first few weeks at the military, Jungkook finds the distance more excruciating than he had when you ignored him. He enlisted in the first place to get his mind off you, to learn to live without you, but you’re the only person on his mind.

It certainly doesn’t help that he’s carrying a locket bearing your image, but he can’t bring himself to throw it out. He doesn’t even know why he has it in the first place, or why he had it custom made; he feels obsessive but whenever Jungkook’s on his last lap, his last pushup, or his last pullup, you’re the thought to propel him forward.

The military barracks are cold, dusty, and lonely. Sometimes, he can’t sleep, and on those restless nights, he finds himself reaching for the locket. Staring at the image of you smiling back at him, it’s like a tangible reminder of something he can’t quite explain.

He holds the locket in his hand, tracing the edges with its fingertips. He remembers your touch, your warmth, the way your hand fits perfectly in his.

True loser behavior.

You ignored him for fucking months, didn’t care how he was doing, or if he were laying dead in a ditch, yet he still loves you, still clings onto you. If he didn’t enlist, he probably would’ve ran back to you the moment you showed up at his place.

If anything, you’re not the type of girl who should be in a locket. You’re immature, childish, and rude, but he holds the locket close to his heart, because quite frankly, he hears how the men in the military speak about women, and he would never ever subject you to that.

Some guys hang up cute pictures and polaroids of their girlfriends on the bunks, which would almost immediately be thrown into the trash because of the insane comments from the (obviously single) guys.

Jungkook deems running as the most arduous drill in boot camp.

Jungkook can do three or five miles easily, but twelve miles with gear on? Absolutely not. What makes it worse is when the other guys try to make small talk- wasn’t running excruciating enough?

Even on the eighth mile, Jungkook clutches the locket tightly in his grasp. The sensation burning in his abs is borderline excruciating, and he opens the locket to glimpse at your image

James, the absolute deviant of the 8th squad, approaches Jungkook from the rear. “Who’s that, Jeon?” James asks.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut; this is the last thing he wanted. He says nothing, slightly accelerating in speed.

As James draws nearer, his tone dripping with mockery, Jungkook's muscles tense with apprehension.

"Come on, Jeon, spill it," James prods, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Who's the lucky lady in the locket?"

Jungkook's jaw clenches, his grip on the locket tightening. He knows the implications of revealing your identity in this environment, where vulnerability is exploited and secrets are ammunition.

"Just keep running," Jungkook retorts, his voice strained with suppressed frustration. Running 12 miles with 50 pounds of gear was already hell, why was he trying to pick a fight?

But James persists, matching Jungkook's stride with unsettling ease. "Oh, come on, Jeon, don't be shy," he taunts, edging closer. "Is she the reason you're always off in your own world during training?"

A surge of anger pulses through Jungkook's veins, his resolve fraying under James's relentless scrutiny. He fights to keep his emotions in check, knowing that any sign of weakness could be exploited.

With a steely gaze, Jungkook halts abruptly, turning to face James with a glare. "Back off, James," he warns, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, before he returns to his usual stride.

James's grin widens, sensing Jungkook's vulnerability. "Someone’s sensitive,” James teases, “Scared your girl’s with the mailman right now?”

Jungkook’s features harden, and he continues onto the ninth mile. His feet ache, and the mud is starting to seep into his socks. Jungkook opens his mouth to say something, but he’s cut off by Wooseok, who comes to his defense.

Wooseok bumps shoulder with James from behind. “Chill, James. He’s got her in a locket. Better not mess with that.”

Jungkook hates to admit it, but James got to his head.

Jungkook knows he’s the one who let you go, and that there’s no winning in this situation, but he’s selfish and the thought of you with another man makes him physically ill. Had it been any other girl, he would immediately lose interest the moment he discovered she was messing around with others- but the thought of you with someone else physically hurts.

He doesn’t have much access to his phone, and there’s nothing to take his mind off it.

There’s that taboo story about men in the military getting cheated on. It's a tale as old as time.

The fear of infidelity hangs over these soldiers constantly- but you’re not even his girlfriend.

So if you were to move on, there wouldn’t be a thing wrong with that.

Isn’t that what he wanted? For you to find happiness with someone your own age? Someone you would love, not just be infatuated with.

But fuck, why does it makes his heart swell? The thought of another man seeing you, feeling you, and touching you the way he has, the way he should be, makes him ill.

You know you said you were going to change, and you’re really, really trying. It’s been one month since your last encounter with Jungkook and you think things are taking an upward trajectory.

For one, you’ve started your internship with the local bank, and you’re making a lot of money (to your standards), definitely not a lot to someone like Jungkook, but it’s good enough for you. Since summer hit, you’ve retaken some of the classes you failed, and your GPA has now returned to the 3.0 range.

However, that doesn’t mean that your obsession with Jungkook has dwindled in the slightest. You’re childish in a sense, and you’re kind of taking advantage of your relationship with his parents to see what he’s up to at all times.

You’re snooping over Jungkook’s mother’s shoulder like the nosy girl you are, and you scandalously gasp at Jungkook’s text.

“Haha yea, Y/N looks pretty” is probably the most disingenuous thing he’s ever said about you.

Like sure, whatever, he’s calling you pretty but he’s only saying it because his mom asked him whether he thinks you’re pretty in the first place.

Your eyes continue skimming down the phone and you see something that makes your jaw drop to your ass

Jungkook’s mother shuts her phone off and squeals. “Oh Y/N! I can’t wait for Jungkookie to get married! I want grandbabies already, she pouts.

It’s like a punch to the gut. The thought of another girl walking down the aisle to marry Jungkook makes you sick to your stomach. It makes you so jealous you can’t fathom it. It's a visceral reaction, a knot tightening in your stomach as jealousy courses through your veins, clouding your thoughts and stirring emotions you never knew existed.

Every detail of the imagined scene plays out in your mind like a cruel movie reel, tormenting you with the painful reality of what could be.

With a forced smile, you manage to utter, "That's great, Mrs. Jeon. I'm sure Jungkook will make a wonderful husband one day."

Jungkook’s friends, in fact, do not hate you.

Actually, they’re quite nice and understanding of the situation at hand. Maybe it’s the fact that you shoved meat down their throats before explaining how you actually felt, or because you were somewhat valid in your decision to not acknowledge Jungkook’s existence for four months.

“He’s probably not mad at you,” Mingyu reasons, toying with the hem of his beanie before shoving a piece of beef into his mouth, “I don’t think he has the capacity to be angry at-”

Taehyung furrows his brows and Mingyu continues his sentiment, “at Y/N,” Mingyu clarifies, “He’d never be mad at Y/N.”

You sigh, using your chopsticks to flip some meat over, “He kicked me out of his apartment,” you express.

“No,” Taehyung contests, “You chose to move out, didn’t you?”

You chew on your lip apprehensively, suddenly finding the need to rake your fingers through your hair, “Yea, but I spent the night before he enlisted and he kicked me out in the morning.”

Taehyung pauses, exchanging glances with Mingyu. “By spend the night, you mean…?”

“Yes, I mean,” you confirm, “I just don’t want him to hate me. I know I fucked up, but I would never do anything to hurt him on purpose. I mean- not to use it as an excuse- but my parents’ suddenly died in a fucking car accident? Am I supposed to be normal after that? I didn’t mean to hurt him, I just couldn’t at the time, and I’m not sure if I can, at all.”

Mingyu purses his lips, “I just think he- you know- was super heartbroken. Y/N, Jungkook really loves you, and by love I mean that you’re probably the only girl he will ever love. He probably just needed time to process everything too,” he says gently, reaching out to give your hand a brotherly squeeze.

“You made him cry,” Taehyung asserts, and you pause.

“Seriously?”

Taehyung’s lips form into a straight line and he shrugs, “You made him cry. Showed up at my place in the middle of the night drunk and in tears over you.”

At that, you sink into the leather seat. Cry? You’ve known Jungkook since you were born and you’ve never seen him cry before.

You bang your head against the table- a little too hard- and you yelp in pain , clutching your forehead. Mingyu immediately whisks closer to you, gently removing your hand and scrutinizing the mark on your forehead.

You’re suddenly reminded of something Soobin said to you a couple weeks ago. Something about Jungkook’s friends are just as brotherly as Jungkook, always going the extra mile to take care of you, and suddenly you feel bad.

You groan, “Guys I’m sorry. I didn’t intend for things to get so messy. I’m sorry you have to deal with all of this- but I really care about Jungkook, I really do.”

Taehyung’s grumpy face finally relaxes, “We know you do, Y/N. No one is mad at you- trust me. But you have to make up your mind: do you want him or not? You can’t be wishy washy about this- Jungkook’s a lot older than you. He can’t waste his whole life waiting on you-”

“I want him,” you immediately declare, “I want him, and I’m ready to give everything to show that I love him.”

Mingyu smiles at you, “Well tell him that, not us.”

Your cheeks turn slightly pink. “Yea. I might.”

The rest of the night continues with ease. Mingyu and Taehyung ask you about school, give you professional advice for the future, and at the end of the night you reach over the table to give your card to the waitress, but Taehyung physically holds you back, and Mingyu gives his card to the waiter.

You’re truly so loved.

Things change and people change.

The first time Jungkook gets leave from the military is for the memorial service for your parents.

You’ve put the memorial service off for about a year. As their only daughter and remaining heir of your parents, the decision of when and where to hold the memorial service rested solely with you.

Yet, you just couldn’t bring yourself to go through with it, especially with Jungkook in the military.

Like the blossoming of spring, a year has passed, and at 21, you've graduated college, content yet eager for new beginnings.

When Jungkook's mother called you, brimming with excitement, inviting you to join in picking him up from the enlistment site, you couldn't find it in your heart to decline. Even when Jungkook kicked you from his apartment, you and he both knew that you couldn’t just fuck off from his life entirely.

Since birth, Jungkook has always been there. His parents, who are practically your aunt and uncle, have nurtured and cared for you since forever. You've shared in every significant milestone of his life, from graduations and birthdays, and when he gets married, you know you’ll be there, even if it tears you apart.

Your lives would be forever intertwined.

Had you changed since that night at his apartment? Kinda? Not really.

You've moved out from the mansion shared with friends to your own space. With a “lucrative” five-figure job, late-night parties and raves are a thing of the past. You’re all for early morning runs and late night reading.

With the anticipation of seeing Jungkook for the first time since that day, you find yourself more fixated on your outfit than you’ve ever been in your life. More so than prom, more so than Coachella, and more so than graduation.

Jungkook has only ever seen you in hoodies and sweats, a crop top and ripped jeans, or the occasional mini bodycon dress- you don’t think he’s ever seen you in business casual. You wear a chic satin blouse with jeans and closed toed heels.

Jungkook’s parents don’t really like to drive, so of course, you’re driving Jungkook’s Mercedes, (he so carefully left in the care of his parents), to the enlistment sight, which you’re sure he’ll be absolutely thrilled to see. He never let you drive his car out of the parking lot.

As you slide into the driver’s seat of the car, a wave of anxiety washes over you. This is the first time you would see him in an entire year- the longest you’ve been apart. What would he look like? Does he still have feelings for you? Is he still upset with you? Has he completely forgotten about you?

With a soft click, the engine hums to life, and you follow the GPS through the streets towards the enlistment sight. Jungkook’s parents sit in the back, occasionally passing you trail mix and bananas.

You pull up to the enlistment sight, waiting anxiously with your arms crossed amongst the crowds of people.

Jungkook emerges from the crowd in his military uniform, and your heart swells with pride and sorrow. He looks so handsome. He looks bigger, stronger, more rugged. You’ve seen celebrities and models in person before and they could never compare. You step to the side as he greets his parents, and when he turns his head, he locks eyes with you.

It’s like the world stops revolving.

It’s been a year since you’ve seen him and he never ever fails to make you feel this way. He’s made you feel this way since you were 15 and the feeling never dissipated, only amplified.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you swallow.

Jungkook doesn’t look at you in any type of way. His eyes scan over you and he sends you a genuine smile. “Hey Y/N,” he offers, opening his arms for a hug. You hug him from the side, reciprocating his polite smile. “Hi Jungkook. You look nice.”

“You look pretty,” he offers before turning towards his parents and casually taking the keys from your hand.

“Should we go now?”

Jungkook drives all the way home, with you in the passenger seat. You don’t say much. You find yourself simply listening as Jungkook shares with his parents what life in the military is like.

It was expected from everyone that Jungkook would do well in the army. When he was 15 years old, a personal trainer told him that he’d bulk up in muscle from just lifting a spoon.

After reaching home, Jungkook’s parents suggest you show him around your new place, and neither of you really have a choice but to oblige.

The moment Jungkook’s parents are dropped off at his place, an awkward silence absolutely encapsulates the inside of that Mercedes. You don’t say anything; you just lean your head on the window, looking outside the city where you and Jungkook have been for your entire life.

Jungkook says nothing either, tapping his fingers against the drivers’ wheel.

Finally, he speaks up. “Sorry I couldn’t make it to your graduation.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble in response, “You’re busy.”

“Yea.”

More silence overwhelms the car.

“So what did you do with your parents’ house?” he asks, flickering his eyes towards you. You push yourself further against the seat.

“AirBnb,” is all you can conjure.

Your parents were loaded and left you with a plethora of assets. The house, for one, is your second stream of income. You locked off yours and your parents’ room, and cleaned up the rest of the house for it to be rented out.

“Smart,” he offers.

“Thanks.”

He hums in response, tapping his fingers against the wheel. Instinctively, his hands reach towards the radio, turning the Bluetooth on, which of course is already connected to your phone.

Everytime by Ariana Grande blares through the radio, making you temporarily freeze.

I get weak and fall like a teenager

Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?

I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it

Self-destruct, show up like an idiot

Why, oh, why does God keep bringing me back to you?

I go back to you, back to you, back to you

Back to you, back to you, back to you

I go back to you, back to you, back to you, every time

You’ve had enough. You turn the radio off and roll the window down, your head peeking through from the outside while you let the wind blow against your face.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything either, just continues following the GPS to your apartment.

After what seems like forever, he eventually reaches the security gate. "4832," you mention, prompting him to enter the number and which opens the security gate.

“It’s good you live in a gated community,” he comments, “it’s safer that way.”

“Yea,” you agree, not really sure what else

You and Jungkook take the elevator to your place, and you punch the code in before letting Jungkook in.

Jungkook thinks your place is so you. It smells sweet, like vanilla. There’s a white, fluffy couch in front of the TV with stacks of Rilakkuma plushies. Your kitchen is clean, well organized; he sees a heart shaped bowl in the middle of the dining room table. Framed photos adorn the shelves: some of you with your parents, your friends, and one with him and his family from Jungkook’s college graduation.

You rub your palms on your jeans. “So, what do you think?”

“Nice,” he responds, “I’m proud of you.”

You purse your lips and nod. “Thanks… I have a room prepared for you– but is there anything you want to do tonight? Mingyu and Tae can come over, if you’d like.”

Jungkook toys with his lower lip before he tilts his head. It slightly bothers him that his friends have been over at yours, and that you mention it so casually- but of course, he doesn’t mention it.

“No, it’s cool,” he responds, “You look tired. You had to drive a while to get me,” he offers.

“No, no,” you shake your head, “It’s fine. Not a big deal…. You look strong.”

Jungkook smiles, “Yea. Military drills and stuff,” he rests a hand on the kitchen counter and leans against it.

His eyes flicker towards you, looking you up and down. You gulp.

“I missed you,” you finally say, “... and I bought you something.”

Jungkook raises a brow, watching you daintily step into your room to pull out a small black box. You hand it to him, and he delicately opens it. A golden chain.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, “I see lots of military guys wearing chains and I thought you’d like one too,” you offer, shifting your weight between your ankles.

“Thanks,” Jungkook says, “Probably the first time you’ve ever gotten me a gift,” he jokes, to which you playfully roll your eyes. “I’ll wear it when I get back to camp.”

You nod, rising on your tippy toes a bit. “And I’m sorry. For last time… y’know.”

Jungkook's expression crumbles. He licks his lips, “It’s okay. I should have been more understanding. You were going through a lot,” he whispers.

You nod. “I know. But I should have communicated more so I’m sorry. Just so you know, I’m still…”

What should you say? I’m still in love with you? I still think about you every day? I’m nothing without you?

Jungkook’s features soften, and you bite your lip.

"I'm still... here," you murmur, the words carrying the weight of your emotions as you struggle to articulate the depth of your feelings.

Jungkook's expression softens, a gentle understanding dawning in his eyes as he nods in acknowledgment. “I’ll always be here too,” is all he says.

Again, silence overwhelms the room.

“Right… well, my head hurts a little so I’m going to lie down for a bit. Wake me up if you need anything.”

Jungkook tilts his head, approaching you before he presses the back of his palm against your forehead. “You’re burning up,” he murmurs, and you swat his hand away.

“It’s fine. Just nervous about tomorrow,” you murmur.

“I’ll call Yeonjun.”

You didn’t expect him to offer to take care of you, cater to your every whim. You really didn’t.

However, straight-up leaving a moment later most definitely caught you off guard. Deep down, you had hoped for a gesture of consideration, like offering to pick up medicine from Walgreens or Walmart, or something.

In that instant, memories flood back of how he cared for you after your parents died. He was so attentive, so sweet. He home cooked you breakfast, meal prepped lunch, and ordered you take out in the evening. You were so out of it, too weak to even function and Jungkook catered to everything you needed.

It’s almost ironic that he zoomed from your apartment the moment he discovered you were ill. You shrug. There's no need to dwell on it or feel upset. It was odd that his parents suggested he spend the night with you. He should be with his parents anyways.

Even though you prepared a room for him, Jungkook goes back to his parents that night, and Yeonjun to yours.

Yeonjun is one of your best friends in the entire world, really, so you’re sorry that you’re treating him like this.

“Yeonjun, if we’re both single at 30, wanna get married?” You plead from the couch, your head resting on the arm and your feet dangling above the backseat.

Yeonjun graces you with the most disgusted look you’ve ever seen in your life. Yet, he still drapes a blanket over your frame, placing a wet cloth on your forehead. He doesn’t even entertain the notion.

“Maybe go back to Sunghoon. He’d seem desperate enough to give you another chance,” Yeonjun murmurs, resting on the opposing side of the couch with his arms crossed.

You pout, before bursting into laughter. You roll from the couch and land on the floor with a thud. Yeonjun joins you, sitting criss-cross applesauce across from you. He wipes a stray hair from your cheek, a cup of Buldak seemingly materializing in his hands. Seriously. Where’d he get that from?

“Y/N, that man does not want you,” Yeonjun states matter-a-factly, his demeanor solemn, a juxtaposition to the goofy red sauce stained around his lips.

And you can’t believe it, but you actually find it in you to giggle at that. Teetering back and forth from where you’re sitting, you sputter out a clumsy “Seems like I’m getting deja vu. How many times in your life have you told me that?”

“Millions,” Yeonjun shrugs, stuffing his face with ramen.

“But you were wrong,” you muse, “I did have a chance with him. He said he was in love with me.”

“Yea,” Yeonjun agrees, before tilting his head, “but you fumbled.”

“I fumbled,” you concur.

“You traumatized that man. He does not want your musty ass,” Yeonjun teases, flicking your forehead with his vacant hand.

“He does not want my musty ass,” you concur once again, a teasing smile spreading across your lips, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Observing you, Yeonjun cracks a smile. “I’m glad you’re not being a crybaby about it anymore,” he comments, “FIrst loves are first loves,” he shrugs, “They say your second love is actually your true first love because they make you realize you weren’t actually in love with your first love.”

“Maybe,” you add, staring up at the ceiling fan swirling in circles and circles and circles- and it makes you dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Who would that even be?,” you ponder aloud, “Sunghoon is cute, but he doesn’t like me anymore.”

“Well, you can ask them, because I invited them over,” Yeonjun adds, suddenly locking eyes with you. You take a moment to process what he just said.

“What?-”

On cue, the doorbell rings, and Yeonjuns stands up, waltzing to get the door like he’s the owner of the damn apartment.

You scramble to your feet as Yeonjun swings open the door with a swish.

Heeseung and Sunghoon flood in, a teddy bear in Heeseung’s hands and a pot in Sunghoon’s.

Heeseung looks you up and down, sticking the teddy bear in your face. “Heard you were sick,” he says plainly, soliciting you to just blink at him.

Sunghoon scoffs from the side, “Yea Heeseung, just go add it to the stack of a hundred plushies she already has,” motioning towards your living room that indeed has a stack of Sanrio and Rilakkuma plushies in the corner.

You snort, snatching the teddy bear from his grimy little fingers. “Thanks… asshole.”

Sunghoon rummages through the fridge, placing his little pot in and taking a box of apple juice out. “I brought you dumpling soup. Just put it on the stove when you’re ready,” he instructs.

Heeseung joins Yeonjun in the living room, letting out a low whistle. “You have a pretty nice place, Y/N. Don’t miss living with us at all?”

You huff, stomping over towards Heeseung before pointing your finger in his face. “You slept with someone in my room!” you accuse, “No, I do not miss living with you!”

Heeseung puts his hands up, “Hey, I already apologized! That was in the past. I’m a born-again virgin now,” he continues.

You blink, exchanging a glance with Yeonjun before returning your gaze to Heeseung. The words leave you speechless, leaving you with nothing to say in response.

Nonetheless, you bend down to give him a hug, maneuvering to lie down on his thigh while you stare at the ceiling. “I have a fever guys,” you mumble, “Can’t have our entire university here bothering me and shit,” you joke, swatting their air like the boys are a bunch of pesky flies.

“Please,” Heeseung teases, “You’ll start crying the moment we leave.”

“Maybe,” slips from your mouth, and you run your hands over your face.

“What happened with Jungkook?” Sunghoon adds, a cup of Buldak ramen somehow also materializing in his hands. These boys are really raiding your ramen stash.

“Y/N fumbled,” Yeonjun answers for you, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

Heeseung puts a hand on your forehead. “Holy shit Y/N! You really are burning up… are fevers contagious?”

“How gentlemanly of you,” you murmur.

“Wait, let me feel,” Sunghoon intervenes, pressing one hand against your forehead and the other against his. He gauges it for a moment. At that moment, you do recall that Sunghoon’s dad is a doctor, and he might have some magical prognosis for the situation at hand.

“Yea, you have a fever,” Sunghoon confirms.

You and Heeseung roll your eyes in unison.

“But what happened with Jungkook?” Sunghoon questions, settling back into his spot on the floor.

“I fumbled,” you respond, using Yeonjun’s words exactly. “But it’s fine. It’s whatever. I have a memorial service to worry about tomorrow,” you mutter.

At that, a solemn silence washes over the room. It doesn’t make you feel any type of way. You wouldn’t know what to say to a girl who lost both of her parents either.

“You also fumbled Sunghoon,” Heeseung jokes, immediately easing the atmosphere and eliciting an Oh c’mon from Sunghoon and laughter from you and Yeonjun.

Genuinely, you found that funny.

You feel complete and content.

Throughout the night, the three boys took turns tending to you, diligently replacing the ice pack on your forehead. It was crucial for your fever to break, knowing that the following day was your parents’ memorial service (the reason why Jungkook is even back in town). Yeonjun, Heeseung, and Sunghoon ran home to change into proper attire, promising you that they’d get back to you as soon as possible.

Drifting in, adorned in a long black skirt and a matching blouse, a black ribbon delicately tied into your hair in a half-up, half-down style, you arrive at the memorial service site several hours ahead of schedule- to grant yourself the necessary time for mental preparation and to ensure the arrangements have been made.

Sitting alone in the parking lot, the floodgates of your own emotions explode, and you drown in your own feelings. Since Jungkook's enlistment, you've buried yourself in work- barely finding time to arrange everything for the upcoming service.

You realize you haven’t even taken a moment to process how you truly feel about everything.

You’re only 21 years old. This fucking sucks.

You ache for the warmth of your parents' embrace, desperately missing the solace only your mother could provide. In moments like these, you find yourself longing for her gentle hug, her soothing words, and her infinite love.

You feel tears well in your waterline, and you immediately wipe them with your sleeve.

You had to be strong for your parents.

They never liked seeing you cry, always told you to be strong.

With a deep inhale, you swing open the door and stride into the memorial service center, ready to attend to the necessary preparations.

The moment you step into the building, your eyes lock onto Jungkook.

Adorned in a somber black suit with his hands tucked into his pockets, he paces anxiously, his presence immediately drawing your attention.

This isn’t the time; it really isn’t, but he’s perfect. He’s so handsome, even without his hair, even when he doesn’t talk to you, even when you don’t see him.

When he senses your presence, he immediately turns towards you.

“Y/N.”

“Jungkook. Thanks for being here,” you say, pulling him in for another side hug.

“Yea, of course,” he mumbles, “You feeling better?”

You nod, “Yea ‘m good. My fever broke… did the guy say anything?” ou inquire, swiftly diverting the conversation.

Jungkook appears slightly taken aback, but he responds, "Yeah. Good. They have everything set up. They just need the portrait of Auntie and Uncle."

Dangling your keys in front of him, you continue, "They're in the trunk. Can you get them? I have to- I have to use the restroom." Jungkook studies your face for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Yeah, totally."

"Thanks," you mumble before darting into the restroom.

Obviously, you’re on the verge of tears and he could palpably feel and see that. Once inside the stall, the floodgates burst open. The despondency of everything absolutely devours you and you feel so pitiful, so sad that you’re in this situation, and that your parents are gone– forever.

Your parents are gone. You think Jungkook is gone. You have nobody. You’re alone. The family that you grew up with… it would never be the same.

After a moment of letting your emotions flow, you take a deep breath and wipe your eyes. You had anticipated this moment, knowing that you would inevitably end up crying like a little baby, so you had opted for a bare face today.

You leave the restroom, hanging your head, and when you look up, you lock eyes with Jungkook.

With furrowed brows, his eyes sweep over your puffy ones, noticing the glossy scleras and the tears welling up once again. Staring at him, you feel pathetic, and you let out a quiet sob before burying your face into your hands.

And suddenly, you feel him.

Like the comfort of the gentle breeze on a Spring day, Jungkook envelops you with his strong arms, and suddenly everything’s okay. He holds you and it’s reminiscent of all the times he’s cared for you, doted on you, and expressed his love for you. He soothingly runs his hand up and down your back, pressing you against the wall and away from the eyes of bystanders.

You remain still, sniffling and drying your eyes, overwhelmed before pulling away. Jungkook runs a hand over your hair, eyes glazing over your face. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t need to.

The way he looks at you is enough. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.

The beauty of your relationship with Jungkook is that in itself. It would be alright. Everything would be alright so long as he’s there- even just as a friend.

To love someone is to love from afar. To love someone is to love without reciprocation. You love Jungkook and he loves you. Some people are so filled with hatred and resentment- the ability to even love after all you’ve been through is astounding in itself.

Your love for Jungkook is a powerful thing. It would carry you far, and to simply possess the ability to love is far more significant than being in a relationship with him.

“Y/N!” On cue, Yeonjun makes his appearance in the lobby, tilting his head when he sees you and Jungkook standing closely together by the hallway.

Jungkook motions towards Yeonjun, and you nod, not before you stand on your tiptoes to give him another hug– not a side hug, but a real hug. “Thank you,” you whisper against his neck before you skip towards Yeonjun and your other friends.

The memorial service begins and ends with reverence.

Surrounded by your family and friends, you begin to feel overwhelmed by your sense of community.

The service room is reminiscent of that of a church. You sit on the front row, Yeonjun on one side and Yunjin on the other. Both of them are holding each of your hands as you listen to your maternal aunt tell stories of your parents from their youth.

Through her words, you get a glimpse of your parents in their youth– just two kids stupid in love, youthful, lively, and brimming with aspirations. It gives you peace that they were able to live their dreams out before they died- one of those dreams being seeing you graduate high school. It’s a shame they weren’t present at your college graduation.

After listening to your aunt, your grandma, and Jungkook’s mom. Jungkook is next. You didn’t know he’d be talking, but his mom let you know that he had something prepared.

He saunters towards the front from the second row, hands in his pockets, before he clears his throat, taking a piece of paper from his pocket, coughing against his closed fist before he speaks up.

“Auntie ___ and Uncle ___ were the most selfless people I know. When my mother couldn't join me for Mother's Day lunch at school, Auntie __ stepped in. As I learned to ride a bike, it was Uncle ___ who stayed outside with me for hours, patiently assisting me as I struggled to find my balance,” he starts, meeting your eyes before looking back into the general audience.

“Auntie and Uncle were filled with so much love and trust. They embraced a more liberal parenting style, trusting in the inherent kindness of the world to play a role in shaping their daughter's character.”

It’s funny, because as he’s speaking about you, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes. “They exposed her to life's various facets, both its joys and challenges, instilling in her a deep understanding of the world's complexities. And their approach paid off. They leave behind a daughter, one of the most compassionate and beautiful souls who embodies traits of independence, strength, and intelligence.”

Your heart clenches, and you raise your lashes, hanging onto his every word. You can feel your heart beating against your chest.

“To honor their legacy, let’s approach the world with less caution and more trust. Embrace the goodness of the world and live happily, just like Auntie ___ and Uncle ___ did. Thank you.”

Jungkook still doesn’t meet your eyes as he returns to his seat, but yours follows his all the way to his seat.

Right after the memorial service, Jungkook catches you off guard. He strides over, giving you a hug– a full hug– before whispering in your ear, the baritone of his voice causing goosebumps to erect on your skin. “I have to go now, but stay safe. I’ll see you when I get back.”

You look up at him, nodding. “Yea. See you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, walking towards his parents and taking the keys to his own car before he leaves. All your friends watch Jungkook just as intently, but nobody says anything. You don’t talk about Jungkook much with your friends anymore. There’s not really a reason to.

And just like that, you don’t see Jungkook for another six months.

The next time you see Jungkook is when he comes home from the military.

This time, you aren’t able to join his parents to pick him up, and it’s not because you’re avoiding him, but because you have an important meeting at work– a meeting that you just can’t wiggle your way out of.

Apparently, the higher ups are announcing something– something so important that apparently they need the entire company present…. And why couldn’t have this just been an email?

As the hours tick by, you sit in your cubicle, completing an analysis of consumer behavior for a client. Work isn’t particularly exciting nor is it a bore. You currently work in consulting, specializing in data analysis to help clients make decisions for their businesses.

At 4PM, an hour before everybody goes home, the higher ups gather everyone into the auditorium.

You sit next to Mary, one of the colleagues on your team, about 50 years old, who taps you on the shoulder and whispers. “My oh my, if they wanted to kill us all, this would be the perfect time to drop a bomb,” she jokes, which makes you smile.

That was a cute comment. You place your hand over hers. “Well, at least we’d go out together, right? HR won’t have to spend any more on those team building exercises,” you joke with a gag, prompting Mary to roll her eyes.

The tension in the room is palpable as the CEO takes the stage and clears their throat, prompting everyone’s attention.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I'm pleased to announce that after months of negotiations, we have finalized a merger agreement with HYBE Korea," the CEO declares, gesturing towards the screen where the company logo appears.

“This means that some of the departments will be relocating to HYBE," the CEO announces, his voice projecting as he gestures towards the screen displaying the company's new logo. "HYBE is investing in a new building equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, providing us with an exciting opportunity to expand our operations."

You pause, and that’s when the realization sinks in.

Jungkook works for HYBE.

"In celebration of this milestone, we will be hosting a party next month to commemorate the merger. More details will be sent through email.” the CEO continues, his words met with a ripple of applause and relieved smiles from the crowd. "It will be an opportunity for us to come together as a unified team and celebrate the bright future that lies ahead."

Mary’s saying something to you but you’re not even processing it, trying to understand the implications of the merger.

There’s no way you’d be working with Jungkook– imagine the odds of that. But, what if?

He gets back today and everything feels surreal.

After you get back to your car, Jungkook’s mother calls you, excitedly urging you to drive over to her place to celebrate Jungkook’s return from the military. You tell her that of course you’ll be there before you start driving down the oh so familiar streets to Jungkook’s child home.

Upon pulling up, you see a familiar face.

Rolling down the window, you call out his name, “Tae!!”

Taehyung, who is in the midst of walking towards the front door, whips his head towards your voice. “Y/N, hey!”

He waits for you to park, you clumsily grabbing onto your purse so you can meet him at the front.

“I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you too. Text me more,” he responds before scanning you up and down, “You look… fancy,” Taehyung comments to which you sigh playfully.

“You know, I chose to waste my life away as a corporate slave,” you muse, giving him a hug.

“Just like your boyfriend,” Taehyung jokes, making an obvious reference to Jungkook.

“Oh shut up,” you sigh, swatting his bicep, allowing him to open the door for you.

The moment you walk in, Jungkook’s mother squeals like she’s never seen you in her life. “Omo, omo, omo! Y/N is here everyone!” she announces excitedly, scurrying over to you, immediately latching onto your bicep to pull you towards the crowd, “Y/N is here! Y/N is here!”

Jungkook is standing by the dining table, surrounded by his aunts, uncles, and cousins. He lifts his head to meet eyes with you, offering you a gentle smile. The way he looks at you, smiles at you– it’s just, it makes your heart swell.

Every time you see him, it’s like time slows down.

You can imagine waking up this smile every morning, rolling over to find his handsome face gazing softly at you to-

Wait. Have you lost your mind?

And at that moment, you’re tackled to the ground by Jungkook’s six year old cousin, Jacob. If Jungkook is no longer in love with you, the only solace you have is the affection of his six year old cousin.

He grabs your face with both palms, causing your lips to pucker as he pouts at you. “Why didn’t you say hi to me?”

You gently grab his face and ruffle hush air. “Sowwy, Jacob. You’re too little I didn’t see you,” you reason to which Jacob, for some reason, becomes angry at.

He rolls over onto the ground, just to get up and stomp away. “I am not little!” he declares, stomping up the stairs. You can hear the door slam and you exchange bewildered glances with Jacob’s mother, who shakes her head.

“He's just going through a bit of a phase," she reassures you with a smile, before turning to follow Jacob upstairs. You lock eyes with Jungkook, who gives you a subtle smile.

The Jeon family is filled with drama queens.

Jungkook closes the distance between you. “Hey.”

You feel your heart skip a beat.

He’s as handsome as ever. Just like he’s always been.

“Hey, welcome back,” you sheepishly express, standing on your tiptoes to give him a hug.

He hugs you– like, really hugs you. Both of his strong arms snake around your waist, holding you against him securely. It leaves you weak in the knees. It’s a little too intimate for a casual, welcome back hug, but you haven’t a problem with it.

He pulls back, and all you can do is stare at him. You’re mesmerized. Again, he always makes you feel like this. This feeling will never dissipate.

“Did you just get back from work?”

You come back to Earth, pulled from your entrancement.

“Yea, I did…” You scan him up and down. He’s wearing something casual– a black T-shirt and black shorts, but his physique still looks perfect and he still looks perfect. Without thinking, you speak, “Did you happen to hear about the- no, nevermind.”

Jungkook tilts his head with a slightly teasing expression, “No, say it,” he urges

“The merger.”

“Merger?”

You say it in unison, and you bite a smile back.

Jungkook’s mom automatically intervenes, “Omo! Omo!” she exclaims, “A merger? What merger?”

“Y/N’s company and my company are merging,” Jungkook simply answers, looking at you to raise his brows.

“Omo!” she exclaims again, almost theatrically falling to her knees, “Does this mean that you two will be working together?” she asks, motioning towards you and Jungkook, to which you sheepishly shake your head.

“Probably not,” you dismiss, “I don’t even know if my department is relocating to the new facility.”

“Oh, I hope you do!” Jungkook’s mother pouts, “That would be absolutely perfect! It would be great if he could watch over you at work,” she reasons, before addressing the entire family, “Y/N is very pretty and gets hits on a lot,” she explains, making you squeeze your features in embarrassment.

All of Jungkook’s older family members murmur in agreement– and you appreciate the hype, you really do, but it’s embarrassing, especially in front of the entire family. You place a hand on Jungkook’s mother’s shoulder. “Excuse me for a moment, I’m going to use the restroom,” you whisper, to which she gives you two big thumbs ups.

On your way to the restroom, you stop in your tracks. None other than Yeonjun, the ANTAGONIST, steps out, swatting the air like he’d just taken a nasty shit.

You blink at him and he blinks at you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you deadpan.

Yeonjun shrugs, “Jungkook’s aunt invited me. She thinks I’m a cutie pie.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes, walking past him to inconspicuously drag him with you into the restroom.

You throw him onto the toilet seat, looking into the mirror to touch up your makeup.

“Y/N, this looks suspicious,” Yeonjun deadpans, watching you reapply your lip gloss and comb through your eyebrows.

At that, you drop your hand from your face. “Oh shit, that’s true,” you gasp, a hand coming over your mouth.

For the past– like– two years, Jungkook’s family has been under the impression that you and Yeonjun are dating. That notion couldn’t be farther from the truth.

You inhale sharply, turning towards Yeonjun, “You leave first and then I’ll follow.”

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Sure thing, Y/N. Just pray that nobody’s waiting outside," he says with a mocking smile before slipping out of the restroom.

And of course, Jungkook’s mother was right outside the door. She shrieks.

Every single one of Jungkook’s aunts and uncles met you when you were just an itty-bitty baby.

Occasionally, you keep in touch with the aunts and uncles– not nearly as much as you do with Jungkook’s parents, but goodness, are you thankful for your connections to the Jeon family because you find out that Jungkook’s uncle won the lottery.

The literal lottery– and he bought a yacht, a yacht that he suggests to all the “kids” (a bunch of 20-something year olds, pushing 30) to go on a little cruise in celebration of Jungkook’s return.

You really wouldn’t be yourself if you didn’t rush home to get your bikini and sunscreen, and of course, you dragged Yeonjun along with you.

The yacht, even under the night sky, is the fanciest, most luxurious thing you've ever laid eyes on. Its lights twinkle like stars, casting a gentle glow on the water. It's like a dream come true, a magical oasis on the dark sea.

This is so cute, so summer.

With your towel laid against the deck, you’re lying on the deck like you’re suntanning, which isn’t possible because it’s the moon’s light that shines down on you, but at least it makes you feel like a magical moon fairy.

“Get the angles right!” you bark to which Yeonjun rolls his eyes to the back of his head and groans.

With your forearm resting against the deck, you hold your body up sideways, all your assets on display. With your knees touching, your hip touches the deck, and your other arm goes up in the air, and you’re waving it around like a little mermaid.

In a sense, you’re posing to get a cute Instagram pic– but also because you know Jungkook might be watching from the upper deck. He’s probably drinking with his friends, not even batting a lash nor caring about you, but you like to delude yourself into thinking that he could be checking you out from a distance.

“Y/N, I took like 300,” he deadpans, dismissing your complaints with a wave, “Take some for me now,” he instructs, standing up to hand you his phone, “I’m cuter than you so they better look better than yours.”

“Yea, yea. Whatever,” you muse, going along with the bit, holding up your phone to get all the good angles for your forever bestie.

Mingyu, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook sit on the upper deck, staring at the night sky with bottles of Soju in their hands. Like you and Yeonjun, they’re in their swim trunks, though no one is entirely certain they want to go for a swim in the chilly water.

Unbeknownst to you, the four men have a clear view of you from the upper deck.

The flash of the phone camera flickers comically, occasionally lighting up the mens’ faces as they all try to avoid looking at you– out of chivalry, of course.

Taehyung is particularly amusing, maintaining his expression of stoicism as he stares directly into the moon, taking an occasional sip of Soju.

At that moment, Jungkook knows that he chose the right friends because he himself can’t seem to rip his eyes from you. You’re beautiful; that is absolute, without a doubt– but something has changed– maybe it’s the angle that the cool breeze hits his face or the alcohol making him feel soothingly warm on the inside.

Jungkook sees it in your mannerisms, the way you poise yourself, the way you walk, the way you talk. You were gorgeous before, and he was insane about you before, but damn– you’ve become such a woman.

He knows what it is, but he’d be a dick to patronize you for it, to act like he’s proud of you for becoming more confident. Undoubtedly, you’ve developed a more profound sense of confidence and it makes Jungkook swell with pride because he remembers how you’ve agonized over your body, complaining about your boobs, your weight, your waist, when in reality everything was and is perfect.

You’re as beautiful as a Victoria’s Secret model, as ethereal as the goddess of beauty, and Jungkook’s just happy to see that you’ve embraced it.

You yourself would agree with the sentiment; it wasn’t until your 20’s that you grasped how utterly gorgeous you are, and how to embrace your beauty, make yourself look good and like you, not just like every other girl on Instagram.

Jimin clears his throat, “So.. now that you’re back, are you and Y/N going to…”

Jungkook lifts his head and looks at Jimin. He shakes his head. It’s firm and absolute. “No, it’s better for us to be friends.”

Mingyu raises a brow, “You can’t take your eyes off her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he rationalizes, “People can like each other and still be incompatible.”

“Incompatible?” Taehyung repeats, a twinge of confrontation in his voice, “If I had a girl like Y/N in my life I’d propose immediately.”

Jungkook stares into the moon, “I need a cigarette-”

“Okay, what is wrong with you?” Jimin challenges, rising to his feet, “Y/N is right there,” Jimin whisper-yells, motioning towards the lower deck, “You clearly still feel something for her, so do something about it. I mean- how would you feel if someone– not me… I don’t know. How would you feel if Mingyu hit on her right now? And they started dating?’

“Why me?-”

“That would be inappropriate,” Jungkook retorts, “Y/N can date whoever she wants, just not you guys.”

“Then what about Yeonjun?” Taehyung intervenes calmly, “Yeonjun’s a good kid. She brings him to all your family events. They’re cute together, huh?” Taehyung motions towards the lower deck, where you and Yeonjun are laying on your sides facing each other, animatedly discussing something probably stupid, like penguins.

He notices the skinship, how your hand is casually thrown around Yeonjun’s waist, and how you occasionally swat at his shoulder whenever he says something a little too egregious.

No, it doesn’t bother Jungkook.

Jungkook actually likes that you have male friends, that you can maintain friendships with the opposite gender without it having to mean more.

It means that he can trust you, and that he can trust your friends to take care of you.

But what trust is at stake here? It’s not like you’re his girlfriend nor should he worry about who’s taking care of you or not taking care of you. Furthermore, it really isn’t his place to feel betrayed, like you cheated on him, by the prospect of you actually forming a relationship with Yeonjun–.

“See? You look hurt as fuck,” Taehyung affirms.

“I’m not hurt-”

“Get your shit together, and get your girl. Y/N’s not perfect, but she could be perfect for you,” Taehyung shrugs at his corny play of words, earning a playful shoulder nudge from Mingyu.

“Aye, that was a good one.”

On cue, he hears two inconspicuous splashes into the ocean, your squeals echoing across the atmosphere.

“Tag, you’re it!”

“Bitch! You just kicked my balls!”

“I said tag, you’re it!”

But wait, isn’t it a little too dark to be swimming this late?

When it comes to you it’s like Jungkook’s protective instinct never dies.

Descending the stairs to the lower deck, he watches Yeonjun as he climbs onto the deck. “Y/N, you need to stop kicking my nuts! Holy shit!”

“I said sorry!” you retort, “I didn’t know!”

Yeonjun grumbles something indistinctive before picking a towel up to roughly dry his hair, disappearing into the restroom.

“Y/N, it isn’t safe to swim alone at night,” Jungkook mumbles. He takes a seat on the lower deck, his feet submerged under the water. The water is icy cold, and he can’t conceive how you’re not shivering. He’s not being patronizing. He’s simply worried for your safety.

You swim towards him, hands latching around his ankles to stabilize yourself beneath the water.

It’s the casual skinship between you two. The way his hand lingered on your shoulder when he told you his uncle bought a yacht. It’s the way he can casually wipe food from your mouth with his bare hands without batting a lash. It’s the way your fingers trail up his legs so you can place your forearms against his thighs, resting your head on them.

“Then… why don’t you come join me..?”

Jungkook really doesn’t want to. The water is cold, the weather is cold, and he’s very much comfortable on the warm yacht.

….

Jungkook submerges himself under the water, coming up before flicking his head back to rid the water from his eyes.

“It’s cold as fuck, Y/N,” Jungkook mutters, body temperature still adjusting to the chilly water.

He freezes when your fingertips brush against his. abs— perhaps accidentally, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t make him feel any less electrified.

“That’s why it’s good to have more than one person in here,” you rationalize, “More body heat.”

You’re treading against the water, and not doing a great job at it- your head bobs with the motion of the waves, and you find yourself sputtering the water out of your mouth as you speak.

Jungkook wipes his face haphazardly with his left hand before he reaches out to stabilize you, holding onto your bicep.

It makes your heart skip a beat. So big and strong. You can smell the shampoo on his wet hair, and it makes you dizzy because not only does he always look good, he always smells good.

Your eyes trail from his bicep to his shoulder, neck, and finally, to his eyes. He’s already looking at you, the warmth of his gaze making you feel so secure and safe.

You know he wants you. There’s no way he can look at you like this and not want you.

It hasn’t even been a day since he’s returned from the military and he looks at you the same way he looked at you from the night before he left: with love.

Your eyes flicker down to his lips, his pretty lips. He’s so pretty. You close the distance, wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize you further, and you draw your lips to his-

Until he turns his head.

Still, his hands grab your waist, holding you close to him against the water, but he looks into the ocean, 90 degrees from you, refusing to look at you or meet your eyes.

“It’s cold, we should get out. I don’t want to get sick,” he suggests.

“Yea, okay,” you sheepishly agree, allowing him to hoist you onto the lower deck before following in your stead.

He throws you a vacant towel, “You alright?”

Catching it with a single hand, you use it to pat yourself dry, composing yourself before you stare at him.

“I’m fine.”

That night, Jungkook’s mother suggests you spend the night at her house, or that Jungkook drive you home given how late it is.

Instead, you sneak out of the house and drive home, far too embarrassed to be around Jungkook let alone look him in the eye.

That was so humiliating. You think about how you behaved while you were staying with him after your parents’ death. You exposed yourself to him in the shower and begged him to join you. What the hell were you even thinking? Should you just drive your car off this cliff?

When you pull into your apartment complex’s parking lot, you keep banging your head against the steering wheel in hopes that maybe you’d wake up and realize that tonight was just an embarrassing dream.

Well, unfortunately it wasn’t a dream, because later that night Jungkook shows up at your door with your wallet in his hand. You answer the door in a loose T-shirt, boyshorts, and a Snorlax plush headband on your head with a gray face mask.

“My mom told me to give this back to you.”

You take the wallet, “Thanks.”

You stand there for a moment, staring at him.

He looks at you, pursing his lips before he places a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, I’ll always care about you, alright?”

You nod, fidgeting with the charm of your necklace, “I know.”

“Good. I’ll be going, then,” Jungkook announces.

“Alright, drive safely,” you respond.

With a brief nod, Jungkook moves to shut the door and depart, and for some reason you just can’t bear to see him go so your hands instinctively reach for him, latching around his wrist.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at you, and you almost yank your hand from him immediately.

“It’s nothing,” you express, biting your lip.

“Alright then, I’ll see you.”

“Good night.”

The moment he leaves, you scold yourself for being so emboldened. Weren’t you embarrassed enough? You open your fridge, pouring yourself a glass of champagne, before you pace around your apartment, your champagne swishing in your glass while you find yourself in deep contemplation.

Jungkook’s back.

Everything you’ve ever wanted is back, in front of you.

You hurt him, and apparently you made him cry, well- that was all in the past, anyways.

It doesn’t matter because you love him. You really do. You love him with your entire soul, heart, and being, and you know your feelings are reciprocated, so if there’s even a chance that he’s willing to give it another shot, you’ve got to do something about it.

Instinctively, you grab your laptop and place it on the dining table, stretching your fingers out to write the longest text message you’ve probably sent in your life.

Once your pinky finger presses the Enter key, you slam your laptop shut, pacing around your apartment until you hear a ding from your phone.

You nearly screech, running to your bathroom to wash off the face mask, putting some moisturizer on, combing through your eyebrows, and applying your lip gloss before-

Ding Dong

You open the door, looking up at Jungkook with big eyes while he looks down at you. He runs his hand through his hair before holding your face with his palms, studying you, his eyes urgently scanning your features for any hint of insincerity.

“You mean it?”

“Yes,” you say resolutely, struggling against his firm grasp, your lips slightly puckering.

“Prove it then,” he demands.

He lets go of your face and welcomes himself into your humble abode.

Taking a seat on your couch, he crosses his arms, watching you intently as if waiting for you to break out into a soliloquy.

You don’t know what to say, and you’re far too embarrassed to admit your transgressions aloud, until a light bulb appears over your head.

“My diary,” you suggest, “I’ll let you read… parts of my diary, but you have to prove it first.”

You expect him to ask you how, or to ask you what he’s supposed to be proving, but he doesn’t.

“Okay. C’mere,” he says with a tilt of his head. All you can do is shift your weight between ankles, before shyly approaching him.

“Sit,” he gently instructs.

You nod, about to seat yourself on the area beside him before he grabs your wrist and twirls you around so that you’re straddling him. Your hands find themselves on your shoulders, and Jungkook wraps his around your back.

“Y/N, I..” he starts, his gently brown orbs studying your features, “I know what you think of me,” he sighs as if just relinquished from holding the weight of the world, “and I promise you that I’m not that man,” he continues, scrutinizing your every nonverbal response.

“I’m selfish, I’m immature,” he starts, brushing your bangs from your face, “but never with you,” he finishes. “I always showed you the best parts of me, always wanted you to see me as someone you can rely on,” he expresses, gently cradling your face, “but I don’t think you realize how much I depend on you, how much I need you too.”

Your features scrunch, studying his features, digesting his words. He reaches in his pocket for something, before pulling out a heart shaped locket. He uses his other arm to delicately grasp your hand, placing the locket in your hand.

“Look at it,” he instructs, and you follow, your fingertips clumsily opening the locket. Your heart swells. The heart shaped locket bears an image of you.

“Being in the military wasn’t easy for me,” he continues, “but I had you with me. Had my favorite girl with me. You gave me strength.”

“When you left that morning, I regretted what I said to you. I thought I was too harsh, and that I’d lost you forever. That was one of the worst feelings in my life– but to me, I felt that you were the one who turned me down. I thought that you were just infatuated with me, that you wouldn’t care about me if you’d see how immature and selfish I really am. But I love you so much that I was okay with that. I’m okay with anything as long as it’s you,” he finally finishes.

You don’t know what to say. Your eyes flicker towards the locket, “You could’ve chosen a better picture,” you mumble, to which Jungkook amusedly scoffs.

“That’s all you have to say?” he muses.

Your cheeks turn strawberry pink, and you climb off his lap, running to your room to grab your diary. You return, skipping through the pages, before you land on the one you want to show him.

You jut it towards him, “Here.”

Jungkook’s eyes glaze over the page, and he starts reading it aloud, mocking your voice, “I graduate college today-”

You literally throw yourself on him to shut him up, “Do not.”

A cheeky smile dances across his face as his eyes scan over the page. After a moment, he looks up and pouts, “Awe, baby,” he coos.

Your face scrunches cutely.

“Come gimme a hug,” he sweetly beckons, to which you sheepishly jump into his lap again, his arms snaking around your waist while he soothingly runs his hands up and down your back.

“I’ll always be here for you, whether we’re together or not,” he whispers against your skin, “You mean everything to me.”

“I know,” you self-consciously respond.

"There's nothing you can do to be 'worthy' of me. I love you for you. You can be the world's richest person or the world's poorest person and there's nothing that would change for me, seriously. All you need to do is continue loving yourself, and that's good enough for me."

"Even if I turned into a worm? You'd still love me?" you ask, your voice coming out as a slight whimper.

Jungkook smiles. Obviously not, but of course, he'll indulge you. "Of course," he says, his voice like honey, "I'd carry you around in my pocket."

"Thanks," you sheepishly murmur, “There are just things I’m worried about, but I trust you with everything.”

He hums in agreement, “We’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” you concede, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you forever.”

“I love you forever too.”

The moment feels so intimate. Your chests are heart to heart, beating in unison as you relish the sensation of having him in your arms, having him back.

Dating Jungkook officially means you get to indulge in all of your innermost desires, the little things you never thought you’d see into fruition– because the reality is that you’ve seen Jungkook in every way. He’s been to your house thousands of times, and you’ve slept over at his hundreds of times, but having him in a different way fills you with an indescribable sense of excitement and joy.

He’s taken you shopping thousands of times, but this time is different. Jungkook is affectionately, overwhelmingly so. He’ll keep his fingers intertwined with yours even when your palms become drenched with sweat. As stated before, he doesn’t care about any distinct bodily fluid if it’s yours.

He’ll hold you from behind while you browse through clothes, give you the occasional peck when you’re in line– it seems like he’s enjoying this domestic intimacy as much as you are. The poor guy has been in the military for a whole year.

“That one’s cute,” he comments, motioning towards a white sundress hanging on the rack, just beside the crop top you’re currently looking at. He keeps your body close to him, his arms so casually thrown around you from behind. His fingers play with your hair, twirling it around his index, and every so often, he presses kisses to your cheek, neck, and skillfully cradles your face, forcing your jaw towards him for a sweet kiss.

“Should I try it on?” you ask with a cute tilt of your head.

“I like it,” he offers, “I rarely see you in dresses. You always look so pretty.”

His sentiment makes you blush– you’re already aware that when he’s around, you’ve only really been in casual clothes: crop tops, sweatpants, and flared leggings. You want to show him a new side of you.

“We could go to the beach together,” you offer.

Jungkook hums in agreement, “Of course, baby,” he agrees, “You looked really pretty in that matching skirt and crop top thing you wore last time.”

“Which one?”

“The one you broke my heart in,” he teases.

You amusedly scoff, twirling around to grab his face and press a kiss on his lips. He acts annoyed, doesn’t return the kiss, just stares down at you, but still chases your lips when you pull away.

If the skinship is this pervasive in public, you can’t imagine how he would behave behind closed doors.

Jungkook got back yesterday, and you think that he’s really taking his fill of you after being deprived from you for so long.

Yesterday was Friday, and today is Saturday… meaning that neither of you have nothing to do.

Nothing to do but look at cute princess dresses at the mall, cuddle, and watch Jujutsu Kaisen, obviously.

Even while doing something as mundane as watching anime from the floor, you sit in between his legs, back pressed up against his chest, and his arms around your waist, fingers playing and pinching with the chub of your tummy.

He can’t keep his hands off you.

The sounds of Gojo and Toji’s fight are drowned by the pounding of your cardiac palpitations. Jungkook’s large hands are splayed against the front of your body, his hands trailing up and around your stomach and back, rubbing your skin, and sinking his fingertips into your chub.

You gasp softly when you feel him unclasp your bra.

He pulls his arms around you even more securely, tugging you onto his lap before he buries his face into the crook of your neck, “You’re so soft,” he murmurs, and his hands return to your stomach– and you think they’re going to trail up. Perhaps he’ll grab a handful of titty or rub a nipple until he doesn’t-

His hands trail to your legs, rubbing his palms up and down each calf lovingly before he laces his fingers through your toes, and gently pushes you off his lap…?

He rises to his feet. “I’m hungry, want me to make some ramen for you?”

“Uh yea, sure,” you smile.

You and Jungkook have done it before: twice. Once at the beach villa and the second before he enlisted.

Every time was magical, electrifying, the best you’ve ever had. He led you through each and every step with expertise and he was so soft, so sweet, and it felt so fucking good.

Admittedly, your past, insecure, and inquisitive self did some snooping around and you are aware of Jungkook’s body count: 13. You were the 13th, and quite honestly, it didn’t make you feel the greatest; you despise the thought of Jungkook with another woman, but you suppose that there is something nice about having an experienced man.

It’s not like you weren’t inexperienced either.

Your body count was– like– 6.

It’s not like any of the men before Jungkook actually made you come. It felt good, you guess, but having sex with someone you’re in love with is indescribable.

You want to do it with him, but there’s something that makes you feel subconscious about making the first move, especially when it comes to something as intimate and forth putting as sex.

You don’t find yourself seductive enough to do so, and you already have societal norms against you.

Women are the gatekeepers of sex. Men are the ones who want to unlock the gate. Blah Blah Blah.

Well, you want to have sex too because you’re unbelievably in love and aroused by this man.

So, would you be making the first move? You’ve changed a lot since the emboldened 19 year old you once were.

In conclusion, no. You will absolutely not be making the first move. You will just have to suck it up.

That Saturday night, Jungkook stays over at your place.

Nothing happens, of course, but that doesn’t mean that Jungkook doesn’t spoon you like a prison inmate incarcerated in his little Jungkook cell. He snores softly against the crook of your neck.

Living alone isn’t easy, especially as a 21 year old (subjectively hot) girl. You double lock your doors. You have a baseball bat with nails hidden in the depths of your closet. While Jungkook was in the army, you had Yeonjun, Soobin, and Beomgyu on speed dial just in case anything were to happen.

It was stressful, and it gave you crippling anxiety at times.

But Jungkook is your Prince Charming in every way, from the way he makes you feel, to the way he dotes on you, and to the way he protects you. Jungkook’s got big strong military muscles, and you know that he’d never let anything happen to you.

Since forever, he’s always casually swept you towards the inside of the sidewalk, stepped in front of you when a stranger approached, and of course you aren’t aware of this, but the reason those creepy frat boys started leaving you alone was because of him.

The sun rises, its sweet rays as warm as the feeling intensifying your chest. Jungkook’s arms are still draped on your sides, and you turn over so you can get a real good glimpse at his sleeping face.

So handsome. Jungkook is sleeping calmly, soft snores leaving his mouth, and it brings you so much joy to see him at peace.

You run a thumb over his brow, pressing a soft kiss to the area in between his eyebrows. Slowly, his eyes open, and he’s staring at you with lidded eyes, and you can’t fathom how handsome you think he is.

“G’morning baby,” he says in a soft voice, the grogginess of his morning voice making you gulp.

“Hi,” you sweetly respond, “Sorry for waking you. You can go back to sleep. It’s Sunday,” you say folding the comforter away from you to sneak out of bed.

Jungkook protests with a hum, “I want you to stay with me,” he mumbles.

“You don’t want breakfast?”

“Can’t sleep without you,” he responds, his chest rising slightly, which makes you pout.

“Alright.”

Peace. Serenity. Serendipity. Everything you’ve ever wanted. You’re so in love.

Later that day, you get an email from the company, which is surprising since it’s Sunday, but essentially, the email states that your department will be transferring to the new HYBE facility. You flip your phone to show Jungkook the screen, who is sitting across the table stuffing his face with noodles with a Snorlax headband in his hair.

On cue, Jungkook’s phone dings, and he pulls out his phone.

“Oh shit,” he says aloud, “Same.”

You’re a bit taken aback, “Are you serious?” you ask, scrambling to your feet before racing around the dining room to glimpse at Jungkook’s phone.

Dear Jungkook, We're pleased to inform you that your department facilities are relocating to a new, improved location. This move is part of our ongoing commitment to efficiency and employee satisfaction…

You exchange glances with him, blinking at him momentarily before you speak.

“You’re going to get sick of me if you have to see me everyday,” you deadpan, prompting him to theatrically roll his eyes.

“You do analytics, I do software development. We’re not even going to be on the same floor,” he declares matter-a-factly, “You’ll probably be with… the marketing girls or something.”

“Oh really?” you muse, raising your brows, “You don’t want to see me at work? You’d rather be with those ‘marketing girls’?”

Jungkook purses his lips, staring at you unimpressed, before a smile spreads across his lips.

“If I see you at work,” he whispers, fingertips dancing along your thigh before his palms grasp the backs of your thighs, pulling you towards him, “I won’t be able to focus. I’d be too distracted keeping my eyes on the pretty girl from the Analytics department.”

You blush slightly, “Oh- oh, shut up.”

“What? It’s the truth. Either you or I have to quit, and it won’t be me. I have seniority over you.”

You know he’s joking, but the notion makes you scowl. You step out of his grasp, “That’s not funny,” you mutter, crossing your arms.

He shrugs, “I could really turn into the sugar daddy you’ve always dreamed about.”

“Don’t undermine me because I don’t have as much experience as you do,” you direct, to which Jungkook theatrically drops his jaw, rising to his feet.

You look him right in the eye, maintaining your glare as he starts to tower over you. “Oh c’mon baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that,” he comforts.

You shake your head, rolling your eyes, “Asshole,” you spit, stomping away from him, to which Jungkook follows.

“Seriously? I was joking!” he reasons, following you to your room. You walk into the bathroom, closing the door behind you and locking it before he can trail in your stead. At that, Jungkook scoffs, not believing that you were taking it this seriously.

He knocks on the door. “Y/N,” he calls, dragging out your name.

You don’t say anything, and he squeezes his eyes in defeat when he hears the sound of the shower starting, opting to slip into your bed whilst waiting for you to return. He sighs, running his hands over his face.

To be honest, Jungkook is a little triggered. He hates the whole silent treatment thing more than anything else. Last year, you ignored him for four months straight and it nearly killed him on the inside.

Minutes later, you emerge from the shower, one towel wrapped around your body and the other wrapped around your hair. You cross your arms, staring at him. The towel wrapped around your frame is loose, threatening to fall beneath the nipple.

Jungkook sighs, standing up and sauntering over. Your eyes are glossy, not from the water from the shower, and the tip of your nose is a cute shade of pink. Your features are twisted up into petulance, your lips displaying a subtle pout.

Seeing you in distress pains him too.

His gentle and careful fingers pull the towel above your breast. He knows you feel vulnerable and he doesn’t want you to inadvertently expose yourself and contribute to that vulnerability, his left hand rubbing your nape up and down gently. “What’s wrong, baby? Hm?” he inquires sweetly, bending over to draw your lips in for a honeyed kiss.

“I just–” you start, unable to meet his eyes as you crane your head the other way. Jungkook gently cradles your jaw, directing your focus back to him. Looking into his eyes, you choke up. “I just– I know you weren’t being serious, but I just feel belittled, like is my work so unserious that one day I’ll just end up being a trad wife or stay at home mom?”

Jungkook feels awful. He was already aware that you had some sort of inferiority complex when it came to him, and knowing that he fed into it makes him regret everything he’s ever said.

Jungkook opens and closes his mouth immediately, looking for the right words. He places both palms on your shoulders, “Shit. I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean it that way at all,” he expresses, “I was just– I was just being a dick,” he says, pulling you in for a hug. “I don’t think of you that way at all,” he continues, “I mean– look at you. You’re 21 and you’re rich, you’ve got a good job. You’re up there with all these old people,” he jokes, eliciting a sweet giggle from your lips.

“I only said it because I love you and I like the thought of taking care of you,” he says, to which you squirm.

You squirm in place, looking the other way, “So are you mad at me? For ignoring you?” you sweetly beckon, and Jungkook draws your lips for another sweet kiss.

“No, baby. I’m thankful you said something, though,” he offers, continually rubbing your nape up and down.

“I can take care of you too,” you declare, “Remember? We’re equals now,” you express, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

That night, Jungkook helps you change into your clothes, dries your hair, and rubs your skincare into your face. So delicate. So sweet

There’s something so wonderful about having someone you can confide in, communicate with, and love. Jungkook never judges you; all you have to do is explain how you feel and he’ll indulge you completely.

That doesn’t mean however, that Jungkook can’t be selfish, immature, or childish.

The night he confessed to you, he told you that he could be all those things, and to be honest, you’ve never really seen it directed towards you.

When he was a teenager, you saw him get mad at his parents when he was caught smoking for the first time. You were a kid, but you thought that was pretty childish.

Beyond that, Jungkook has always been chill, more laid back, and normal.

Not tonight, though.

“That was childish,” you deadpan from the passenger seat of his car.

Jungkook reaches over to place his palm on your thigh, to which you swat it away and lean as far as you can into the window.

Jungkook scoffs, “You’re calling me childish? Out of all people, you’re calling me childish?”

You cross your arms. “I am,” you respond, your voice firm and resolute.

You both were on your way back from the company party celebrating the merger. The company went all out, hosting the party at a luxury hotel, illuminating the hotel’s grand ballroom with twinkling chandeliers and neon signs displaying the company’s name.

You arrive as a pair, nothing too conspicuous for the sake of professionalism. You’re wearing a long sleeved dress, with Jungkook in a casual black button up and gray slacks.

You quickly separated to meet with your respective departments, and when you happened to pass by Jungkook’s department, he went out of his way to greet your coworkers, introducing himself to your department like he’s never seen you before in his life.

The other men in Jungkook’s department are quite put together. They seem like the type of people Jungkook would work with: young, objectively attractive, tech-nerds. You greet all of them with the same enthusiasm Jungkook greeted your department, knowing that they may be potential wedding guests.

At the moment, you aren’t quite able to recall their names but he works with six other guys. They didn’t really leave a lasting impression; they were kind, sweet, and polite, nothing out of the ordinary.

Notably, it was Mary– your kind, sweet, amazing 50-year old coworker and work bestie, who brought her son to the party. That was not something you were expecting, mostly because Mary always teased you about becoming her son-in-law, and you always entertained the notion, not expecting that you’d meet the man in person.

Mary’s son is in his early 30’s, and he is… nice.

He’s nice, he really is. He’s an intelligent, hard-working man. He takes care of his sweet mother, and for that, he is admirable, but you think there was some miscommunication there, because he is definitely under the impression that you are interested in him in some way, shape, or form, and you feel horrible about it, because you don’t think Mary knows you were playing around.

Mary's son leaned in with a charming smile. "So, what do you like to do outside of work?" he inquires, his gaze lingering on you with a subtle hint of interest.

You hesitate for a moment, "Oh, you know, the usual. I enjoy reading and hiking when I have the time," you reply cautiously.

Mary's son nods, his smile widening slightly. "Sounds like we have some common interests. Maybe we could do something together sometime.”

Your heart sinks at the implication of his words, but before you can respond, your big, hot, sexy boyfriend intervenes. Jungkook had his eye on you the entire night– nothing too conspicuous, but he made sure you were always within his field of peripheral vision.

Jungkook steps in, a champagne glass in hand. He playfully nudges Mary’s son and you squeeze your eyes shut, dreading what’s yet to come.

“Must be quite the occasion for you to be hitting on your mom’s coworkers,” he cuts in making you run your hands over your face, “Let me put you on to something else,” he continues, “I mean, you’re a handsome guy, and I know that there’s someone else more suitable for you than a 21 year old, alright bud?” he continues, throwing a casual arm around Mary’s son as he leads him elsewhere.

Okay, it wasn’t that bad.

But it was embarrassing.

Jungkook seemed polite, but his language was more than passive aggressive, and anyone who caught heed to the conversation tangibly felt it.

“I was literally being nice!” Jungkook rationalizes, his fingers tapping against the driver’s wheel, prompting you to huff in frustration.

“You should have let me handle it,” you respond, “I was going to turn him down. Next time, don’t do all that, alright?”

“You were not going to handle it,” he retorts, “You were mumbling– baby, you were blushing– definitely entertaining it,” he adds.

You shake your head, “That was my coworker’s son! If it was any other guy I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I had to be polite.”

“Yea, well, and if it was any other guy, I would’ve beaten the shit out of him so what’s your point?”

“Oh my gosh,” you express, face palming.

“C’mon baby, he was being totally predatory for hitting on his mom’s coworker,” Jungkook argues, “I didn’t even say anything that bad. Had a nice conversation with the guy.”

“It was childish, Jungkook,” you counter, “The fly on the wall could sense your passive aggression.”

“I’m such a big bad wolf for saving my girlfriend from a situation she was uncomfortable in. Aww,” he mocks a pout, dragging his pointer finger across his face to mimic a tear.

At that, you can’t help but scoff out laughter. “You’re so stupid,” you muse.

That situation was merely the tip of the iceberg.

You weren’t that angry; Mary’s son was out of line and it’s not like Jungkook said anything too egregious, but it’s the next day that Jungkook really shows you how immature you can be.

The following Monday is yours and Jungkook’s first day of work.

Jungkook is so in love, loves seeing you in a new light. It’s like there’s hearts in your eyes when you “coincidentally” run into each other in the second story printing room, finding the way you work when you’re in professional mode so sexy.

It’s like he has hearts in his eyes while he leans against the company’s wall, hands in his pockets while his eyes follow you from across the office, loving the way you simply walk around with a stack of paper in your hands.

That is, until the CEO of the fucking company starts hitting on you. That’s when his smile drops, and he removes his hands from the pockets. He instinctively steps forward to intervene yet again, until he remembers that this is actually work and that he can get both of you fired by doing anything too crazy.

“Quit your job,” Jungkook instructs the moment you get back to his place, causing you to almost drop your work bag onto the floor.

Maybe you didn’t hear him properly, “What’d you say?” you ask, taking off your shoes and joining him in the kitchen.

“Quit your job. I’ll help you find another one,” Jungkook suggests, rummaging through the fridge, as if it isn’t the most ridiculous idea you’ve heard in your life.

“I’m sorry babe. Can you repeat that one more time?”

“Quit your job, Y/N,” Jungkook finishes, slamming the fridge a little too hard. He’s clearly miffed. He’s doing that thing where he tongues the inside of his cheek. His eyebrows are in an angry V, and his chest is heaving up and down— and honestly, the fact that he’s angry calms you a little bit.

He’s just speaking from emotion, and now you need to be the voice of reason.

You force a smile, sneaking around to hug him from behind, resting your cheek against his mid-back.

“And why do you say that, honey? Hm?”

He swivels around, placing his palms on your shoulders. “Y/N, this isn’t funny. The CEO was being creepy as fuck. Turn in your resignation tomorrow, and I’ll start looking for another one. I’ll pay your bills until we can find you another job,” he states.

“C’mon babe,” you start, “the CEO was not being creepy. I’m the youngest at the company. He was just being nice.”

At that, Jungkook’s features scrunch in confusion, detecting any hint of sarcasm on your face. “You really think that?”

“I do.”

Jungkook sighs, “Y/N, rate yourself on a scale from 1-10, on societal standards of beauty. 10 being– like Anok Yai. Where do you stand? Be honest?”

The question is absurd, but you entertain it, putting your fingers on your chin while you genuinely contemplate the assertion.

“Maybe a 6?-”

“Okay, well, you’re an 11, and every guy feels that way. You don’t know how pretty you are and that’s my fault. I should tell you more, but baby– that’s how pretty you are. The CEO was hitting on you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, so quit your job.”

You stand there, processing his words, and while the sentiment is somewhat touching, you can’t lie and say that you aren’t the least bit upset, especially because you had this conversation about your work a few days ago.

“No,” is all you say.

“No?” Jungkook challenges.

“No,” you confirm, “I’m not going to quit my job. The CEO hasn’t done anything,” you reason, gesturing with your hands, “If he gets out of line, we can consider reporting him, but I’m not going to quit my job.”

“Okay, fair,” Jungkook says putting his hands up, and you smile, thinking that this conversation is over until he continues.

“But why would you wait for something bad to happen? Isn’t that totally absurd? I don’t want to wait for it to happen. Let’s play it safe.”

You sigh, “I see what you’re saying, I really do. But I don’t think anything is going to happen. I think you’re overreacting…”

Jungkook pauses, tonguing the inside of his cheek before a sly smile dances across his lips. “Overreacting, huh?”

“Um, yea,” you confirm, “Why would I quit my job? I’d lose all my connections. I mean– this is the only real employment I’ve had. Besides internships, I’d have nothing to put on my resume.”

Jungkook nods, understanding.

What he really wants to say is “Babe, just quit your job and I’ll make all the money. You’ll never have to work a day in your life and then we’ll retire early and travel the world together with our kids and-”

But that’s totally patronizing, but hey, he can’t help himself if he feels that way.

“So what do we do, babe? The CEO is in a position of power. I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of,” Jungkook expresses, his eye twitching.

What he really wants to say is “I literally saw the CEO’s dick getting hard while he talked to you and if I could, I’d shoot his entire office up-”

But of course, he would never utter the sentiment aloud.

“If it gets to that, we could report him for sexual harassment,” you ponder.

Jungkook nods in agreement, but you and he both understand the implications of reporting your CEO for something like that. Women always get the short end of the stick. People would probably accuse you of lying, the CEO would leverage his resources to legally ruin you, and you both could lose your job security.

Jungkook doesn’t want to even let it get to that point, and he’s trying his best to respect your autonomy, but it bothers him, it really does.

He inhales deeply, finding peace in the way your fingertips dance under his skirt, caressing his abs before you pull him in for a hug. “Nothing is going to happen, baby,” you comfort, “Everything will be alright, I promise.”

Indeed, everything is not alright, because the CEO repeatedly calls you into his office for some inconspicuous reasons, and you’re suddenly starting to understand where Jungkook is coming from.

Your only solace is that Jungkook is around the corner. Today, he’s wearing a suit and tie, his wire-framed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks exceptionally sexy today, his long legs accentuated by his suit and his hair swept back to show his sexy forehead.

You put your phone down, looking up right when the elevator doors open to reveal a handsome, suit-clad Jungkook.

“Hello Mr. Jeon,” you express, a smile dancing on your lips when you bow to him and saunter into the elevator.

“Hello Ms. L/N,” Jungkook responds matter-a-factly, pushing up his glasses on his nose, “Strange running you into here.”

You bite back a giggle, “Yea, that is indeed strange. How is work for you, sir?”

“Oh work’s alright. The team is-”

And just like that your lips are on his, and he’s devouring you completely. Your legs wrap around his waist as he hoists you up, pressing you against the elevator doors as he sloppily and messily kisses you. Tongue in your mouth, teeth clashing, his groin grinds against the area between your thighs, inducing you to moan into his mouth while Jungkook continues licking into you and–

Ding! The elevator dings and you and Jungkook instantly scramble apart, resulting in you running to the other side of the elevator, smoothing out your skirt while you catch your breath. You cough, hand coming at ease in front of you while you stare at the floor. Jungkook behaves similarly, pushing up his glasses while he clears his throat and straightens his tie.

A second later, the elevator doors open, and more office workers pool in. You and Jungkook greet them politely, feigning innocence and ignorance.

The next day, something similar transpires.

You’re wearing a long, red skirt, a white blouse, and you have a white ribbon in your hair. You love work because it grants you opportunities to put together cute, modest outfits, and apparently, Jungkook likes it too, because you always catch him looking.

He checks you out quite noticeably, his eyes shamelessly scanning up and down your frame as he bites his lips. Your cheeks flush, and you take a moment before you sheepishly step into the elevator.

“H-hello, Mr. Jeon,” you greet.

“Hi Ms. Y/N. How are negotiations with your new client going?” he asks, adjusting his tie.

“They’re going great, sir-”

And like that, he closes the distance, cradling your jaw before leaning in for a kiss. His hands salaciously trail down to your behind, giving it a light squeeze, causing you to gasp in his mouth. He takes that as an opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan as your tongues rub against each other and-

Ding!

Once again, you scramble apart, separating towards each end of the elevator, recomposing yourselves while more people pool in.

Not a soul would know what really transpires in the elevator everyday at 3:00 PM.

Unless there were cameras in the elevator.

Which there were.

Which is crazy because of course there are cameras in the elevator, and quite honestly, you and Jungkook were probably aware of that in the back of your minds, but who cares? Making out with him everyday in the elevator at 3:00 PM is hot and it’s what gets you through the work day (until 3 PM)

You and Jungkook get Cc'd the same email from HR.

Dear Employees, I hope this email finds you well. We need to discuss an incident observed via security cameras in the elevator involving two employees engaging in intimate behavior. This is a violation of company policies on workplace conduct. Please attend a meeting with HR to address this matter.

Oh shit.

You and Jungkook wait outside the conference room to talk to the HR. You blink at each other, and honestly you want to burst into giggles, but the conference room is made of glass and you aren’t really sure who’s watching.

The HR Manager, a tall lanky man, steps from the office and invites you in.

The meeting isn’t awkward at all— in fact, it’s more straight to the point. Essentially, the HR manager says something along the lines of “You’re free to date in the office, but no PDA. We don’t encourage dating because we want our employees to focus on work. I know you guys are amongst the youngest in the office, so if you want to do–erm— that, then you can go somewhere else during lunch.”

Both you and Jungkook profusely apologize, promise it won’t happen again, and then are off on your ways.

Funnily enough, the CEO stopped approaching you and calling you to his office so yea, neither of you quit your jobs, and Jungkook was overreacting, a little bit.

Now, the real question remains.

How do your friends feel about your relationship with Jungkook?

They want to see you happy, always, so that aspect brings them joy, but it’s important to address how things change.

Before, Jungkook was the unattainable, hotter, older man that all your friends told you to get a grip over because there was just no way he’d ever reciprocate your feelings. But now, things are different.

If Jungkook is your boyfriend, that means he’s your equal… so if your friends are your equal, does that mean Jungkook is equal to your friends? It’s just the transitive property of equality. If a = b, and b = c, then a =c.

But that’s weird.

You know you shouldn’t be making a big deal of it, but your friends are like little piggies and Jungkook is the wolf. There’s no way all of you could hang out at the same time without it being weird, because every time Jungkook has interacted with your friends in the past, it’s always been in a big brotherly way, not a friend way.

On top of that, Jungkook has never officially met Heeseung or Sunghoon, and he is very much aware that Sunghoon was interested (and potentially still could be) in you, which is probably why you all are sitting around the sushi table in awkward silence.

Soobin is hyperfocused on his the wrapper of his chopsticks, Beomgyu is repeatedly dipping his chopsticks into the Miso soup to lick at, Yunjin already excused herself to the restroom, and Heeseung is just staring at Jungkook in awe, which is understandable, because your boyfriend looks exceptionally handsome today.

Yeonjun is probably the only one who can carry the conversation, mostly because he’s the most closely acquainted with Jungkook and his family.

You elbow Yeonjun softly and he clears his throat, “So, um– Jungkook. Does your family still think Y/N and I are together? Or have you already told them that you’re dating?”

Soobin finally says something, “Wait, why would Jungkook’s family think that you and Y/N are dating?”

“Just because I brought him to a couple family events, and they got the wrong idea,” you respond, delicately tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We haven’t let them know yet,” Jungkook answers, stretching out his upper body, “I don’t think that conversation will go over smoothly because of the… age difference.”

Yeonjun nods, understanding, “Yea, and your little cousin might be upset about it too,” he adds.

“Oh yea,” Jungkook smiles, addressing the table, “My little cousin is six years old and he’s got the biggest crush on Y/N. He probably won’t talk to me for a year once he finds out,” Jungkook says with a light laugh.

Oh my gosh. This is so awkward. You inwardly cringe, but leave it to Beomgyu to ease the atmosphere.

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu adds, “If you didn’t want her, Y/N would have just waited for your cousin to grow up cause at least the cousin likes her-”

You reach over the table to swat at his bicep.

At that moment, the side dishes arrive: perilla leaves, radish kimchi, steamed egg, pickled cucumbers, and spicy bean sprouts.

Thank goodness the food is here, you think, even if it’s just side dishes. Yunjin returns from the restroom, seemingly renewed as she takes the space between you and Yeonjun, and she starts talking.

“You know, Jungkook,” she starts, “Y/N really loves you. I, for one, am happy that you’re together. She’s been non-stop talking about you since high school. She showed up at my house crying when she heard you were bringing your girlfriend to Thanksgiving-”

You nudge Yunjin, a nonverbal cue to tell her to shut up.

Jungkook awkwardly laughs, “Yea, I know Y/N had a crush on me when she was younger but I didn’t realize until a couple years ago… Anyways, Y/N’s not the same person she was when she was a high schooler. I fell in love with her after she turned 19, of course.”

“But isn’t that still a problem?” Sunghoon challenges, and your face almost drops.

You know where this is going.

“You knew her since she was a little kid, so isn’t it kinda weird for you to date her?” he asks. The question is innocent, and it’s a valid question, but you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut in anticipation of Jungkook’s answer.

“Some would say that,” Jungkook responds, “But our relationship isn’t about who she was. It doesn’t matter to me that she had a crush on me when she was younger, it’s about who she is now, and I love her as she is,” he finishes with a smile.

Sunghoon nods, “That makes sense,” he shrugs. At that moment, you use your chopsticks to pick up the perilla leaves, which are, of course, stuck together. Sunghoon casually reaches out with his chopsticks, separating the leaves and plopping one into his mouth.

You freeze, and you do what you should, placing the perilla leaf over Jungkook’s bowl of rice, and he almost immediately uses his spoon to swallow the perilla leave along with a spoonful of rice.

No one seems to notice, and the conversation continues.

“So what’s it like working with your girlfriend?” Heeseung asks casually, and the conversation continues, taking an upward trajectory, the atmosphere finally settling down.

“He still likes you, Y/N,” Jungkook says matter-a-factly, hanging up his coat in his closet while you take off your shoes by the front door.

You tilt your head, genuinely confused, “Who?”

“Sunghoon.”

You shake your head, dismissing the notion, “No, that was in the past. I heard he has a girlfriend now.”

You join Jungkook in his bedroom and he’s staring at you incredulously. “Are you serious?” Jungkook asks, causing you to scoff, “Of course I am!” you retaliate, “He’s over me. I turned him down straight up; I didn’t even entertain his feelings for me. I told him I was in love with you, remember?”

Jungkook's expression softens, and he takes a seat on his bed, “I know baby, but I’m just saying that he still likes you. Remember what I said?-”

“About me being an 11?” you question, amused, “Yea, nobody thinks that except for you,” you confirm with a nod, taking a seat on his lap when he opens his arms for you.

Jungkook shakes his head, “I’m not saying it’s anything bad, and I’m not saying I don’t trust you, but I just want you to know that he still likes you. He even tried to give you an indirect kiss,” he says, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

You raise a brow at him, giggling at the tickling sensation of his lips ghosting across the sensitive areas of your neck, “An indirect kiss?”

“Yes,” Jungkook confirms, “An indirect kiss– the perilla leaf?”

You shake your head. You immediately recall a stupid conversation Jungkook had with his friends. “They peel off one perilla leaf, next thing you know, they’re holding hands, and fall in love, and they end up getting married!” is what he said, causing his friends to roll their eyes.

You place a chaste kiss on his lips, “You’re stupid,” you giggle.

He looks at you knowingly. Jungkook isn’t per se, worried about you and Sunghoon. He knows Sunghoon’s a respectful enough kid to not make a move, and he trusts you with his entire heart, soul, and being. He just wants you to know that Sunghoon most likely still harbors something for you.

Of course he would. Like Jungkook said, you’re an 11.

The delicacy of his feelings for you seeps into everything he does, especially when you’re sick.

Nestled with your head cradled in the curve of his arm, he gently massages your temples with his right hand, ensuring the damp cloth on your forehead remains refreshingly cool, soothing your feverish brow.

You're drifting into slumber, your eyes half-closed as you softly shift against his embrace. With him around, with his fingers assuaging the ache in your temples, you finally feel safe enough, protected enough to lose yourself in your own vulnerability and drift into dreamland.

Later that day, you wake up with Jungkook right by your side. His eyes are on the TV and when he hears your soft mumbles, he welcomes you back to Earth.

“Kiss me please,” comes out in a soft whimper. You’re barely coherent and you’re asking for a kiss? That’s the cutest fucking thing on the history of the Earth, and Jungkook’s heart clenches. You’re so sweet, so precious, and he’ll gladly oblige.

He pulls you onto him so you’re lying directly onto him, your boobs pressed against his chest and your stomach pressed against his.

He kisses you sweetly, indulging you completely while your tongues intertwine, and he sighs into your mouth blissfully.

At that moment, you hear the sound of a thud hitting the floor. You and Jungkook whip your heads towards the sound– it’s his parents.

“J-Jeon Jungkook! What do you think you’re doing?!” his mother shrieks.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook texts #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jk fanfic #bts fanfic

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phfenomena · 9 months

Text

❝dancing in the refrigerator light.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- tom and reader baking while the background song is stand by me (let us all be delusional)

| A/N- i love this so much you have no idea. this shit got me ENTHRALLED also i imagine this as like right after ‘you’re my best friend’ happened…a part two perhaps..

| WARNINGS- food, dancing, touching a burning hot pan bc you’re too busy looking at tom, and big ole kissies

(divider by @v6que)

you stand in your kitchen humming along to the quiet music flowing through your house, mixing the blueberry muffin batter. it’s well past midnight at this point but you find it impossible to fall under the blanket of rest.

you left tom snoozing soundly in your bed, not wanting to bother him at this hour. a small smile plays on your lips as you zone out while mixing and think about how well everything played out so well with him. you hone back in to your mixing before you feel tom rest his chin on your shoulder.

“you’re supposed to be asleep.” you whisper, leaning you head onto his as he hums and closes his eyes. “can’t stay asleep, what’re you making?” he questions right next to your ear making your face slightly warm, your crush on him will never go away. “blueberry muffins. my mom always used to make them when we couldn’t sleep.” you confided in him softly.

you slide the baking pan into the oven with a slight screech from the metal on metal. you sat on the kitchen floor in front of the oven and set your timer, tom taking a seat next to you. “what are we doing?” he whispers through the silent air. “watching the muffins.”

the ‘watching the muffins’ eventually turned into you guys sitting on the couch kissing and telling stories. he’d tell you his set stories and you’d laugh and shake you head at him. the sight of them engrossed with each other was saccharine and sickeningly sweet. the familiar ding from your apple timer caused you to sit straight up and pull tom towards the kitchen again.

as you open the oven you look over to see tom, shirtless only clad in pajama bottoms licking the remaining batter off the spoon, illuminated by the moonlight and small warm lamps scattered around. before you can even realize that your hand was still moving, your skin came into contact with the boiling metal. you draw your hand back with a hiss and swear under your breath.

tom quickly turns the faucet to cold and places your hand under it, turning around to take the muffins out and turn the oven off. you start to quietly giggle as you pull him apart with your eyes, once again. “what happened, love? i thought you were a whiz in the kitchen.” he runs his hand up and down your back and you lean into him.

“i was, i am, i just couldn’t stop looking at you. you’re like a literal angel that i can’t believe is real.” you whisper to him while turning your head up to him and smiling. you hold your injured hand out to him “i almost died for you. that shows my dedication.” he scoffs and rolls his eyes before pushing your hand back under the water.

you both sat cross legged on the kitchen floor, each with a glass of milk in front of them and a muffin in hand. “so worth it. i don’t even need my left hand if i can have muffins forever” you joke with your mouth full with the pastry. tom raises his eyebrows at you “i, however, do think you might need both hands to function…and other activities.” he confidently spat out his sentence causing you to throw your head back laughing to hide the blush that made home on your cheeks and the warmth that tom manages to propagate throughout your body.

the speakers, who had been forgotten about, start to quietly leak out ‘stand by me’ and toms face lights up and pulls you up to meet him. he bows and sticks his hand out to you, asking for a dance. your smile cannot be contained as you take his hand and quickly remember you also cannot dance. the pair of you looks almost like a baby giraffe- although the giraffe might dance better.

you eventually give up on the waltz and wrap your arms around toms waist and hug him. “i’m really fucking tired.” you say into his chest and you feel his body vibrate when he laughs. you lift your head up and his comes down for your lips to meet. after more than enough kisses tom tries pulling you back to bed. “i thought you said you were tired?” “i am, i’m grabbing a muffin for the trip.”

you feel as if a piece of the sun had fallen down and nestled itself into your ribcage, but that’s just tom.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #billy the kid x reader #coriolanus x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth fluff #william bonney smut #william bonney fluff #william bonney x reader #william bonney

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loviingpedri · 2 months

Text

tripling the fun - jude and jobe bellingham

part 2 -> part 1 here

prompt: jude fulfills everyone’s dreams.

jude x fem!reader.

jobe & reader platonic soulmates

warnings: grammar issues, cursing, arguments (happy ending), jealous jude, all characters are fictional (except jude, jobe, and their parents)

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

salt air, and the rust on your door.

flower in your hair, feet in the sand, salty air entering through your nose.

joining the annual vacation with the bellingham family and your sweet parents, life felt as ease.

at least, for you.

jude was rapidly tapping his feet on the wood bedroom floor. hands in his hair, anxiety filling up his thoughts. jobe was seriously getting concerned.

“mate, you have two days. everything is gonna be okay.” sitting next to him on the bed, jobe put his hand on jude’s shoulder to get his nerves to calm down.

“i’m overthinking it now. what if she says no? what if she only sees me as a brother? am i being delusional?” he could feel his heart racing, and it wasn’t even the day.

jude was planning to ask you out. he felt like no other person who wasn't blood related to him could understand him, deeper and personally better than you. noticing over the past few years, he noticed his rising feelings for you. getting overexcited by the mention of you two hanging out. his cheeks heat up as the thought of you popping into his head. his resistance of trying not to pull you into a deep hug.

jobe, trying to comfort him to the best of his ability, was getting concerned. “jude, you seriously need to calm down. y/n is one of my favorite people in the entire world. have you ever seen her talk to anyone else? i mean seriously, her whole life involves us.”

“you’re not helping,” jude stands up from the bed, heading his way outside for a bit of fresh air. “i need a breather.”

walking across the sand to gather his thoughts, he saw a familiar figure in the distance.

admiring how your hair flowed in the air, perfectly shaped and painted nails coming into contact with the golden sand. your lashes slowly moving up and down as you blinked. he couldn’t grasp the idea of losing you.

“hey jude, what’s going on?” almost standing up, he quickly sat down beside you. “is anyone asking for me?”

shaking his head, “nah, everything is fine. i just needed to take a walk.”

noticing his body language, and how his eyebrows moved when he talked, something was wrong. “you seem tense. is there anything you wanna talk about? what’s on your mind?” you scooted closer to him, touching shoulders.

jude cleared his throat, a lump forming. “there’s nothing wrong. i just wanted to see the sunset. beautiful waves isn’t it?”

“definitely. i wish i could spend all day here.” resting your head on his shoulder, he began to control his breathing and heart rate. struggling to make a next move, he moved his arm to push you closer by your shoulder.

little did you know, your mother and denise were standing from the balcony, watching you two embrace each other’s comfort.

jobe holding his youngest nephew, who was pointing at the future couple, seeing what the future could bring.

----------the next morning--------------

"hey little one." jude picked up his niece and spun around.

"i found your stash of flowers. they look really pretty. are they for me?" catching a small glimpse of the gap of her teeth, jude couldn't help but laugh at the question.

"i would like to say yes, but they're for a really special girl. are you ready to go swim at the beach?"

a frown formed on her lips, "yeah, i guess so. i can't wait to build a giant sand castle that i can live there forever." she threw her arms up high in excitement.

"i don't know about forever, but i'm sure it's gonna be great."

a knock was heard on the door. the air felt colder as tension fell.

"hey jude, we're about to go." you gave him a warm smile, as he stood there in silence. he put the princess down as he went to go sat down on his bed.

he picked up his phone, texting jobe,

i'll be at the beach later, got to get my things together.

he took a deep breath. and for the next 30 minutes, he was trying to form the perfect plan. going out to the balcony to look for a special spot to set up a dinner. noticing splashes that seem far more intense.

getting a better view, he noticed you and jobe. jobe was hugging you from behind and throwing you into the waves. shared laughter echoing throughout the beach. he couldn't lie, the inside of the palm of his hands were sweating and getting white from the grip of the wood. he didn't wanna admit he was getting jealous of his own brother, but the timing was nowhere near perfect for things like this to happen. he has seen moments like this between you two, but it felt different. his head began pounding. he grabbed his towel and ran out to hopefully score a remarkable moment with you

smiles appeared on everyone's faces as he walked through the burning hot sand.

"jude, you're here!" you yelled as sounds of waves crashing and seagulls talking. he waved at you while he gave his mom his belongings for safe keeping.

joining you and jobe in the water, he felt off. in his imagination, jude felt like a mood-killer. the laughter died down, the sun no longer reflected off your skin. he felt like he caused something wrong.

clearing the air, jobe did little small splashes throughout the trio. jude stared at the smile that was on your face after jobe's actions. he felt anger race through his blood. impulsive thinking, he pushed the water right into jobe's face. jobe dodging the salt water in his eyes, he was confused on jude's sudden gesture. you ignored what just happened, because siblings can be siblings.

actions speaking more than words, jude became more aggressive. walking more towards to shore for safety, jude wasn't just playing around. he gave a jude a small but rough push to jobe, making him slip and fall into the water.

"jude, what the fuck." his eyebrows narrowed watching you trying to help jobe to his balance. you weren't sure what was going on, but awkwardness was following all three of you.

jobe cleared his throat, "do you know what we're having for dinner?"

"i think our dads are grilling tonight." jobe nodded as you played with the salt water. without any explanation, jude walked back to get the towel from his mom, and walked back to the house. jobe and you made eye contact in confusion, but just brushed it off.

walking to the shore, the three little children were playing with the sand. classic sand castle with wet sand circling it. picking up the baby boy, giving him a small kiss on his forehead, you could really see jude’s face written all over him.

“y/n, you should sit. the sand is cool under the umbrella.” jobe patted a spot next to him under the shade. sitting the baby down on your lap and hugging his tiny body, he pointed at the sand in jobe’s bucket.

“are you going to help build our castle?” the little princess with her pink hat was desperately trying to scoop a decent amount of sand in her flimsy shovel. jobe nodded his head, but we all know he loses the sand castle contest every year.

“y/n, guess what.” the girl said with a bright smile.

“what?” you smiled back, but more in confusion.

“jude has flowers in his room. i asked if they were for me, he said no. he said it was for someone special though.”

your lips made a small gap. you were shocked at the fact. jobe held in his breath. he was looking back and forth in panic.

“did you know jude was talking to someone, jobe?” he looked at you with slightly wider eyes.

frantically shaking his head, “no, of course not.” he looked at his mom for some help.

“did you know?” you asked denise.

she shrugged it off with a “no darling.” as she was playing it off. you were playing with the baby’s soft curls as your mind wandered off.

—————————

“hey jude, how are you?” walking into his room and sitting down on the desk chair as he sat on the bed, scrolling through social media.

with an unexpected surprise, jude sat up. “i’m doing fine, how are you? you look like you got a nice tan.”

a slight giggle coming out, “yeah, it’s pretty nice. i just wanted to ask you about something.”

“about?”

“our lovely niece told me you bought flowers for someone,” jude instantly looked at you in your eyes. has his secret been busted? “i was just wondering who they were for. usually when you start talking to someone, jobe and i know.”

“oh, it’s nothing really. i bought them just because.”

“just because? you can’t be serious. have you met someone at the beach?” you got up from the chair and sat next to his legs on the edge of the bed.

“seriously y/n. they’re not for anyone. it wouldn’t be any of your business anyway.”

“excuse me?”

“why are you always in my business? i feel like you and jobe are spying on everything i do. and you try to get me to speak about everything. just leave me alone.”

“what the hell are you on about? we’ve never invaded your privacy. if you felt this way, you could’ve said something a long time ago.”

standing up in anger, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. everyone told everyone updates on their life, this wasn’t a secret tradition. surprisingly, jude would be the one sharing most of his life updates.

“you know what, you always take jobe’s side too. i feel left out every time. when i come around, you and him stop laughing and it gets all silent. i feel like i’m the bad guy.”

“jude, you’ve been acting fucking mental lately. i don’t know why you’re being like this, but you need to fix it. i asked a simple question, not a whole lecture from you.”

tears formed in your eyes as you went to leave the room.

“yeah, go run to jobe like you always do.” was the last thing you heard before slamming the door with a loud bam following it.

jobe was waiting outside the door, hearing everything. breaking down in his arms, you thought this vacation would be different.

----------the next morning--------------

the smell of syrup, eggs, and other breakfast goodies was lurking around the beach house.

not a word from jude after the argument. it wasn’t any surprise that everyone in the place heard what was happening. mark, jude and jobe’s dad, made sure to cook butterfly pancakes to try and cheer you up. something he loved doing for you since you were a child.

sitting down with a plate of eggs and toast, he placed the pancake in front of you with a little whipped cream in the middle. giving you a gentle pat on the back, you thanked him quietly. jobe sat down next to you, not wasting a chance to dig in.

all of a sudden, the hairs on your arms rose due to the coldness. awkwardness cooling down the food as jude walked into the room. jobe cleared his throat as he glanced at you before looking down. you continued to try and eat, even though he made you lose your appetite.

“morning.” jude said to his mom as he gave her a little peck on her forehead.

quick change of events as jude sat on the other side of you. it was normal of course, jude, you, and jobe. it was just unexpected that he pretended nothing happened.

everyone ate in awkward silence. except jude, humming and dancing as he ate. his mom looked at him in concern.

“what?” he questioned her, as she quickly shook her head no. “being awfully quiet this morning, what did i miss?” everyone looked at him in confusion.

“nothing, just eat.”

he threw his arms up, “hey, i’m not making this awkward. you guys are.” he got up and started washing his plate and fork.

he was right, we were the ones being awkward. it didn’t change the fact that you didn’t get an apology though. finishing up your breakfast, you forced yourself to approach him with your dirty dishes. putting it into the sink, you stood behind him, waiting for him to be done.

he slightly whispered to you, “it’s fine, i got it.” you nodded at him while you went to the balcony for a summer breeze. soon, your mother and denise joined you.

after a few hours of talking, you got a text from jude. reading,

hey, can we talk later? meet me at the beach in 2 hours.

you tried not to question it. yet, the thought lingered. jude always apologizes straight away after an argument. what made it different now? giving the message a thumbs up, you continued talking with the ladies.

“hey y/n, did jude text you?” denise asked you.

“yeah, he did. he told me to meet him in 2 hours at the beach, but that was about an hour ago.”

“oh honey, you should probably change then.” your mom chimed in.

“what’s wrong with what i’m wearing?”

“wearing pajama pants in hot sand is not very fabulous.” the two moms laughed as they rushed to put something together in your room.

after playing dress up through your suitcase, it was finally time to go. the sun was starting to set, the orange hitting the water perfectly. walking down the creaking wooden stairs, you weren’t sure to expect.

looking to your right, you hands flew on your mouth. a table surrounded with roses, forming a heart shape, was lit with a candle. standing there at the table was jude, with a bouquet of flowers. he looked very nervous.

walking up to him, you really admired the detail. you both started laughing at the sudden seriousness in the friendship.

“are you kidding me? this is surreal.” you hugged him and kissed him on his cheek.

“do you forgive me? is this too much? i didn’t know if the flowers were too much. i also didn’t know if you wanted sand in between your toes as you ate. i mean, i could literally get on my knees and beg for forgiveness. please, forgive me.” cutting him off, you placed a finger on his lips.

“of course i do. i could never stay mad at my best friend.”

“uh. ouch. i was actually going to ask you something. y/n, would you be my girlfriend.”

your mouth formed an ‘o’ shaped. he started tapping his feet in stress.

“i don’t see why i shouldn’t be.” dropping the flowers quickly on the seat, he hugged you.

in history of hugs throughout your friendship, this one was the best one. it marked a new beginning.

a new beginning of love.

to one of my lovely supporters - @judesthighveins

#football x reader #football fanfic #football imagine #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jobe bellingham x yn #jobe bellingham x you #jobe bellingham one shot #jobe bellingham fanfic #jobe bellingham imagine #jobe bellingham x reader #jobe bellingham #real madrid #sunderland afc

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bitchimasnake-sss · 11 months

Text

"remember that time when-" ft. r.zoro!

ft. zoro x fem!reader

set-up: you're pms-ing and this man is your greatest friend and even greater enemy rn (but you know you love him); drabbles to soothe your delusional soul <3

warnings: none! very wholesome lol

-contrary to popular belief, this man actually knows what periods are (wow, the bare minimum!!!) - when he was younger, he had listened to kuina go on about being a woman and its disadvantages and all and i believe he thought she was talking smack (i mean at the end of the day, "a swordsman is just a swordsman") - so when 15 year old zoro stumbled across a library, he decided to waltz in and just pick up a random biology book to understand female anatomy (it happened one after the other, completely unplanned) - when i tell you his little fifteen year old pea-sized brain was blown away (he learnt way more than he probably should have) - (please i beg u he can read, trust me 😭😭) - but just because he knows its a thing doesn't mean he understands it. so, yeah, he actually does know what it is, he simply does not care - in his logic, he had bled multiple times and still always bounces back so like what's the big deal??? "what's the big deal? it's just blood" he's sipping on a bottle of sake, gulping down its remnants in a single breath when you had complained about cramps one evening "excuse me?" nami is ready to strike him down "i said its just blood" - nami did, infact, then strike him down - post-dating zoro still thinks its no biggie "oi, yn" he's poking your shoulder, "what's wrong?" "cramps" you grumble against the pillow he laughs, "ah, they'll go away, get up and get going now. don't sulk around, you're my fav ketchup packet" "tf did you just say?" "ketchup packet?" - you refused to talk to this man for the next two days - at the end of the second day, he had to write a formal apology (with chopper's help) and speak it out loud before you started entertaining his bullshit again - see the thing is this mf is reserved, superhuman and has an absurdly high pain tolerance so it's hard for him to sympathize exactly - he once caught you crying cause you had seen a mama chimpanzee kiss it's baby chimpanzee and hug it tightly and he will forever bring it up "zoro you remember that time you got lost in dru-" "yn, remember that time, we were passing through a jungle and you saw some chimp-" he ended up getting a sucker punch to the face he deserved it. - but just because words aren't his thing doesn't mean he isn't looking out for you - everytime you're laying there on the bed, unmoving, he'd wordlessly crawl into the bed next to you. he's give you a gentle back massage or start rubbing soothing patterns onto your belly "you want something?" he mumbles slowly, hands skimming softly over your waist - this man would not and i repeat absolutely would not allow you to do any physically demanding work though "hey, let me handle that" "zoro, i am not a child!" "you sure look like one to me." he snickers, "remember the time you saw that mom chimpan-" "zORO FUCK OFF!!" - you need something from the top shelf? he got it. you are helping ussop carry gunpowder from the storage? go sit down, your boyfriend's got it - does it sometime frustrate you? yes - does the crew use this opportunity to make his lazy ass do a fuck lot of chores? also yes - he will still 100% make ketchup jokes (he's gross like that) - but name one man who'll treat you more gently than this bozo, i dare you - it might be something as lame as a period, doesn't mean he woudn't go to the end of the world to make you feel slightly better (even if he teases you about it endlessly)

sanji's part <3 luff's part <3

#one piece #one piece zoro #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro one piece #op zoro #zoro headcanons #one piece headcanons #monster trio #sanji x reader #luffy x reader

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ceruleansx · 1 year

Text

for eternity | jack champion

↳ pairing : beachgirl!reader x actor!jackchampion

↳ warnings : nothing much but pure fluff, insecurity, comfort

↳ summary : after a long year of filming for scream 6, you, jack, and the other cast members decide to take a trip to one of their beach houses along the coast. you two spend some time together on the beach, only for him to end up confessing his love.

↳ a/n : hey guys!! sry its been a while, but i would really love if any of you guys dropped some requests!!

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

"okay okay!!" jenna screamed as she looked around at everyone. "there's gonna be two cars."

she started naming everyone's assigned seats (just for fun), but you weren't paying attention. you were paying attention to jack. he was there in a little puffy jacket, since he got cold so easily.

his curls looked perfect that day. but not like they always were. you loved his hair. sometimes you just wanted to hug him so tight and mess around with his curly hair.

"and in the backback seat is gonna be y/n and jack!" jenna gave you a smirk.

she knew that you had the biggest crush on him ever since you two started filming. you were his 'love interest' and the directers told you that you guys had to spend quality time together.

but you and jack enjoyed each other's company, without any of the directors orders. sometimes you thought that jack liked you, but you were just too delusional.

you nodded as you walked over to jack. he looked and smiled back at you. now it was his turn to stare.

jack liked you for forever. he started liking you when he saw a movie that you were in. he was practically in love with you. in his eyes, you were basically the only girl living.

but he didn't know how to show it.

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

jack insisted that you went into the very backseat first. your tummy flustered at his action, but he was just being a gentlemen you thought.

the backback seat was very tight for some reason. so now, you two were basically squished. it wasn't awkward or anything, you two were very close.

"hope your not claustrophobic." you laughed.

his face looked like he was gonna puke, "now i am because i'm next to you." he joked.

you opened your mouth, about to say something, but he covered your mouth with his hand.

he could feel your cheeks burning through his palm, and he smiled softly at the expression and feeling. he patted his lap.

"cmere.." he said softly. "it's gonna be a long drive."

you rolled your eyes playfully. "dude the drive is an hour."

he chuckled softly. "so? lay down, cus when we get there i'm throwing you into the ocean."

"cant wait for that." you said as you laid your head down on his lap.

he was honestly so comfy, and so warm. he smelled good too. he was surprised at his own demand of making you lay down on his lap, but he wanted more.

he laid his hands down on your head and started to massage your scalp. you adjusted yourself to be more comfortable, trying to avoid him seeing your face completely red. the others in the front and other back were too busy talking to notice. but jack liked it. he liked being alone with you, just the two of you.

you eventually dozed off to sleep, and jack did too. his hands were now placed on your waist and shoulder, keeping you safe and secure, even though no one was there.

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

"cmon sleepy head." jack teased as you stumbled of the car.

everyone finally arrived to the rented beach house in time. the house was just in front of the beach, the type where the backyard door just led to the ocean and sand.

"i'm weak jack!! i'm done forr.." you groaned, pretending that you bag weighed 1,000 pounds.

he rolled his eyes and ran over to help you. he grabbed the strap of your backpack and lifted it up with no effort.

"the hell?!" he laughed.

he heard you snicker in the back of him. "you little liar!!" he grabbed your waist and picked you up.

"jack!! what the heck-" he put you over his shoulder, "oh my gosh jack if you drop me!" you screamed playfully.

"i won't" baby. he almost said it. he practically thanked the gods that he stopped saying what he was gonna say.

you gave up your efforts of trying to get down. but deep down in your heart, you really enjoyed being so close to him all the time. first the car ride, now this? it had to be a dream for you, but you always were overthinking. jack was just being a good friend. nothing else.

but it wasn't like that in jacks case. jack adored you. his eyes were only for you and forever for you. he would practically worship the ground you walked on. or he would paint every sunset you saw. he really hoped you felt the same way.

after everyone got into their rooms, you and jack started to unpack. the room was a good size, and there was one big bed.

"can you unpack fasterr??" you begged as jack folded every single piece of clothing.

"patience y/n.." he laughed inside as he saw that all you wanted was to go to the beach.

everyone was already unpacked, and they all decided to order panda express and play mario kart. but you nor jack wanted to. you begged him to go to the beach with him and watch the sunset.

he folded his last hoodie and he closed the drawer. "done!" he sighed, seeing a big grin on your face.

"finally gosh." you looked at his outfit.

you were already in your bikini. it was jack's favorite one, but you didn't have to know that. it clung your body so perfectly. sometimes jack wished that you saw yourself in jacks eyes. so beautiful.

"what?" he stared confused.

"where's your bathing suit?"

"oh! yeah." he grabbed the end of his shirt and took it off.

youve seen him shirtless before at the pool parties, but boy he was mesmorizing. his abs were toned so perfectly with his skin.

he caught you staring, and he couldn't help but turn a bright shade of pink. he cleared his throat. "my eyes are up here.." he teased.

you blinked before meeting his gaze. "i just zoned out jeezzz, don't worry, those crazy fan girls will take you all for themselves." you rolled your eyes playfully

"hmmm but what they don't know is that theres a special someonee." he hummed.

you gasped. you tried to pretend that you didn't like him, so he could spit out his crush. theres a part of you that was praying that it was going to be you.

"whoo?! who is it who is it." you started to punch his chest softly.

"stop-pp-" he giggled, since he was so ticlish. he blushed strongly again.

"let's just go to the beach you little baby." he ruslted you hair.

you rolled your eyes, "finee."

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

the sunset was beautiful tonight. jack thought for a moment. for some reason, whenever he saw a sunset, he thought of you. you were his sunset. his light.

he turned to you, seeing the colors of the sky through your pupils. you turned to him and met his gaze. you two held eye contact for which seemed like forever, until you heared a two shrieks.

"o-m-g!! jack champion!!" some two girls near you and jack's age came running offer.

"that's me..!" he said as he cringed to himself.

he looked a little uncomfortable. he was. a perfect moment with his girl ruined. well, in his mind you were his girl.

"can we pleasee take a photo with you??" they begged.

before jack said yes, they both gave you nasty looks. jack noticed their gaze towards you, and he also noticed you reaction. he saw that you were hurt, and that you were looking at one of the girl's bodies.

'she was really pretty' you thought. jack mustve liked her or something since he did a little pose with her, you also thought.

jack didn't though. ever since he met you, he never liked anyone else. and he knew it was going to stay like that.

after a few more pictures, they finally left. he gave a big sigh and sat on the towel next to you again. "told you." you said.

he turned, his curly hair moving along with his head.

"told me what?"

"those fans girls are gonna snatch you up quick."

he chuckled softly, saddened that you thought like that. "nahh, what makes you think that?"

"they were very pretty. perfect bodies too." you brought your knees to your chest and hugged them tight.

jacks eyes turned into guilt and sadness. "well your pretty too.." he said softly.

"yeah but-" you pointed out, "how could a guy not go for girls like them? they got the whole package and stuff."

he paused, scared off what to say next, hoping that it doesn't ruin your friendship. "but maybe.." he whispered.

"maybe some guys don't want annoying girls like them."

you turned your head, finding jack already admiring you. "y/n i-" he stuttered.

why was it so hard to speak? maybe it was because he was confessing his only one true love towards you.

"i'm in love with you. and i know it doesn't make sense because were not even dating, so im not really supposed to say-" he rambled before his words were cut off with your lips.

his breath stopped before he accepted the lustfull kiss. his lips were soft, but filled with such need that hes been keeping. his hands cupped your head as you two started to learn each other's movements.

you finally pulled away and pressed your forehead to his. "your so perfect.." he whispered.

"jack i-" you gulped. "i love you so much, words can't even explain."

"words can't explain how beautiful you are in my eyes y/n. i will love you for eternity." he said.

and with that, you pulled his face towards yours for another deep and loving kiss.

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delusionalgirlswatchf1 · 25 days

Text

“Or you just want to impress her.”[Paul Aron x reader]

Paul’s friends from Estonia was in Monaco for the race. Thats why Paul was in a good mood. He was smiling at everything and everyone. Y/N could actually swore he was not walking but actually flying. Y/N was glad that he was happy but a certain person next to him was making her anxious. She was a close friend to him and she was making it obvious. Touching Paul’s arms,giggling everything he says,looking at him lovingly. Y/N was sure she was interested in him. Though,Y/N was in no place to be jealous of her. But she couldn’t help it and the glares she sends to Y/N was not helping this situation. While she was thinking about all this Paul made his way to her.

“Thinking about me?”

Y/N turned to see a smirking Paul. She rolled her eyes at his statement,acting like it wasn’t true.

“You wish,Aron.”

“Ah trust me,my wishes are more delusional.”

Paul was teasing Y/N as usual. Y/N wondered if the girl was also getting this treatment or was she different.

“I bet they are. Did your friends leave cause race is starting soon?”

“Yeah. I really want to win you know? They came all this way to support me and I want to make sure they get a good show.”

Paul said while looking at his friends side. Especially at the girl Y/N was jealous of.

“Or you just want to impress her.”

Y/N really didn’t want to sound so petty. She should’ve supported Paul and his friends as well. But she was having troubles with stopping the fire in her heart. Paul on the other hand,was confused.

“What? Impress her?Who?”

“Your pretty friend over there,Paul. Who else?”

God,Y/N was sounding pathetic. She wanted to run away from there as quickly as possible. Paul looked at his friends then turned to Y/N and looked at his friends again. He didnt say anything for a minute then a grin appeared on his face.

“You are jealous.”

“No.I’m not.”

“Oh my god,Y/N. You definitely are.”

Y/N took a deep breath. Her brain was saying it was now or never. If she didn’t confess now,she would probably never do it.

“Okay maybe I am jealous that you want to impress her so much while I’m here every day being impressed by you without you ever trying.”

Paul gasped at that sudden confession. His blue eyes twinkled as he was looking at Y/N deeply,to see if she was being serious or sarcastic. Y/N couldn’t even breath until he spoke.

“I don’t want to impress her.She is like a sister to me,I only want to make her proud.”

If there was a hole next to them right now,Y/N would jump and hide at there forever.

“Oh,Sorry I-“

Y/N couldn’t finish her sentence when Paul got too close to her.

“But,there is a girl I always wanted to impress. I thought she was annoyed by me,turns out she was mesmerized by me. Great news,isn’t it?”

Y/N gulped.

“I never said I was mesmerized.”

“Always denying your feelings,Y/N. Good girls like you shouldn’t do that.”

Y/N watched Paul get his helmet on and walk to the door.

“I will win the race for you. And I will shout your name on the podium,maybe after that you will be convinced for a date.”

Y/N smirked.

“We will see that if you win,Aron.”

The last thing Y/N saw as he left was Paul’s determined eyes.

#f2 #f2 x reader #formula 2 #paul aron #paul aron x reader #paul aron x y/n #paul aron x you #formula #formula two #formula racing #hitech #paul x reader #aron x reader #aron #paul #p17 #formula 2 x reader #formula 2 driver x reader #paul aron fluff

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nicromancytarot · 6 months

Text

A SONG FOR YOU

This is a general channelling based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my content is not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes.

PICK A PILE CHANNELLING

I write songs sometimes in my free time, and I asked my spirit guides to give you guys a song which could have something that you need to hear right now. Pick a card and enjoy some lyrics.

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2

Pile 3 ———> Pile 4

PILE 1

SWAN DIVE

VERSE 1

promise me one thing,

you’ll never let this go,

we’ll be a forever answer,

to the calls of the unknown

VERSE 2

nothing to tear us apart,

it’s the only thing i fear,

not having you anymore,

while i’m still stuck here

PRE-CHORUS

nothing can destroy us,

you’ll be by my side,

til the end of time

(til the end of time)

CHORUS

fuck death do us part,

i’m taking the swan dive,

i’m falling from the sky,

so you’ll always be mine,

fuck death do us part,

i’m taking the swan dive,

from the clouds into the ground,

i’ll be by your side

VERSE 3

no one can compare,

to the love i have for you,

no one can treat me better,

than the way you do

VERSE 4

when you jump i’ll jump too

i’ll always follow you,

to the deep depths of death,

there’s nothing i wouldn’t do

PRE-CHORUS

nothing can destroy us,

you’ll always be by my side,

til the end of time

(til the end of time)

CHORUS

fuck death do us part,

i’m taking the swan dive,

i’m falling from the sky,

so you’ll always be mine,

fuck death do us part,

i’m taking the swan dive,

from the clouds into the ground,

i’ll be by your side

LAST VERSE

my heart is tied to yours,

it beats when yours does,

we’ll be inseparable,

in the sky above

Swans mate for life, when their partner dies, the remaining swan flies high into the sky and falls to their death, performing their last swan dive. The narrator is serenading their partner, telling them that their love is to last beyond the grave.

PILE 2

DELUSIONAL WONDER

VERSE 1

sometimes i wish that i could live inside my mind,

so i could figure out what’s going on behind,

you greet me with a smile and open arms,

when i’m with you i feel safe from harm

VERSE 2

you lean in to give me a kiss on my cheek,

and pass me a bouquet of my favourite flowers,

oh how it’s so good for us to finally meet,

i pace around my room and think about you for hours

CHORUS

and you say...

come on, come closer,

let me hold you til the war is over,

and if i ever let you go,

just know that i’m your delusional wonder

BRIDGE

turn the page and dry your tears,

keep pretending that i am near,

and when we meet again tonight,

we can pick off where we ended last time

CHORUS

come on, come closer,

i’ll let you hold me til the war is over,

and if you ever let me go,

i’ll always know that you’re my delusional wonder

BRIDGE

visit me again in my dreams,

like you do everyday of each week,

and when i hold your head in my hands,

i’ll remember it’s a fantasy land

VERSE 3

when i wake up and see you’re not laying next to me,

a fear strikes deep deep inside my being,

you know there’s something wrong when you think something exists but it don’t (though)

VERSE 4

and even when i beckon upon your name,

the sound of silence always stays the same,

the earth is a desolate place when you’re not here and only in my dreams

CHORUS

and you say...

come on, come closer,

let me hold you til the war is over,

and if i ever let you go,

just know that i’m your delusional wonder

BRIDGE

turn the page and dry your tears,

keep pretending that i am near,

and when we meet again tonight,

we can pick up where we ended last time

CHORUS

come on, come closer,

let me hold you til the war is over,

and if i ever let you go,

just know that i’m your delusional wonder,

come on, come closer,

i’ll let you hold me til the war is over,

and if you ever let me go,

i’ll always know that you’re my delusional wonder

the narrator is daydreaming as an escape from reality, and falls in love with a character they have made up in her head just to realise that they are not real.

PILE 3

SILENCE CAUSES VIOLENCE

(This one was written purely for this.)

VERSE 1

i’m like a ballerina in a jewellery box,

when the music stops,

my heart drops,

i cant be alone with my own thoughts,

without thinking about ending it all

VERSE 2

what makes my mind so useless?

an apathetic version of what i say,

i often think that i’m going insane,

but it’s all in my brain,

yeah, it’s all in my brain?

CHORUS

i’m begging you, don’t let the quiet in,

cause i don’t know what is bound to happen,

the silence causes violence,

a rapture in my heart,

i won’t give in,

but the temptation is calling me

POST-CHORUS

they think Im crazy,

they think i’m out of my mind,

embodying the devil,

won’t hear me out this time,

they think that i am crazy,

some part of a losing game,

one they won’t play for me,

confiscated their tokens away

VERSE 3

i’ve got a taste for destruction,

pouring salt on my own wounds,

refusing to heal my past,

lifting the rug to sweep my dooms

CHORUS

i’m begging you, don’t let the quiet in,

cause I don’t know what is bound to happen,

the silence causes violence,

a rapture in my heart,

i won’t give in,

but the temptations still calling me

The narrators biggest fear is to be alone, to have to think about past experiences, so they overindulge in coping mechanisms, like constant partying.

PILE 4

SCARED OF THE DARK

VERSE 1

racing through emotions,

throwing daggers at my friends,

i promised i wouldn’t hurt myself,

putting means to an end,

i’m enclosed in my room,

painting sheets with all my tears,

tearing myself apart,

analysing all my fears

VERSE 2

i’ve got a target on my back,

but i’m the one with the gun,

inflicting harm on myself,

my mind won’t let me run,

i’m trying to let go,

but the storm cloud followed,

darting into alleyways,

i wanna be alone

CHORUS

i’m not scared of the dark,

but the monsters that live within,

i’m terrified of my reflection,

the mirror showcases all my sins,

the ghoul’s under my bed,

and he’s gripping on my legs,

pulling me under with him,

now the cycle repeats again

BRIDGE

i pulled myself out of this before,

pinched myself so hard, blood could be drawn,

pressed my lips to a glass of cherry wine,

drowned my fears in alcohol,

i do this all the time

VERSE 3

come with me into the night,

this time i won’t put up a fight,

i’ll let myself consume the darkness,

even though it don’t feel right,

let me fall onto my knees,

down by your gravestone i will plead,

let me live my life in comfort,

surrounded by the shadows in me

BRIDGE

i pulled myself out of this before,

pinched myself so hard, blood could be drawn,

pressed my lips to a glass of cherry wine,

drowned my fears in alcohol,

i do this all the time

CHORUS

i’m not scared of the dark,

but the monsters that live within,

i’m terrified of my reflection,

the mirror showcases all my sins,

the ghoul’s under my bed,

and he’s gripping on my legs,

pulling me under with him,

now the cycle repeats again

The narrator can feel themself falling back into that dark place, they try to fight it at first, before letting it consume them, becoming victim to their own sadness.

#pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #free tarot #tarot witch #daily tarot #pick a pile #tarot cards

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flokali · 1 year

Text

♢ Worship | Zhongli

Warnings: AFAB! Reader, Non/con -> Dub/con, Mind break (MC), Yandere, Cult AU, isekai, past violence towards MC, patronizing behavior towards MC, penetration, fingering, delusional behavior/thoughts from Zhongli, cum is everywhere, unprotected sex, dumbification (MC) (kind of), dirty talk, use of the c^nt, manipulation of MC, repetition, cock-drunk MC, desperate Zhongli, degradation towards MC (slut, liar, whore), implied exhibitionism, implied s.ex between MC and other Archons, unrealistic sex. Ask to tag!

Roles: Top! Dom! Zhongli | Bottom ! Reader

A/N: Here it is... it's definitely something new for me;; It's absolutely not for everyone and I am begging you to read the warnings, if this is too much for you do not read it! It's 100% fictional and falls under Dead Dove / Dark Content: it is not meant for anyone under the age of 18. Anon, ILY and you're the best... my beloved ! Took me forever to get this out, but here it is... yipe >_<

Word Count: 5.2k !

— Minors do NOT interact —

You were shunned away and hurt by those who you had once loved.

Already weak and alone, it was as if they took joy in seeing you despair, as if the way you crumbled around them was entertaining.

It hurts, oh Heavens above, you were miserable.

It wasn’t just physical, it was emotional and mental as well – every single weakness you possessed was exploited until you became a shell of yourself, your mind and body governed by fear and hatred and a need to survive, because you needed to survive. Even if it meant being reborn anew, you couldn’t let them win.

You couldn’t bring yourself to forget, it was all too painful, too cruel, too unjustified; they drove you to your limits and pushed you further until you broke. Until the person looking at you in the mirror looked like you, spoke like you, thought like you, but didn’t feel like you.

It’s why you couldn’t forgive the man standing in front of you, because deep down you knew he would have killed you if given the chance back then. You knew he held no regrets, that he’d do it all again to the next person who committed the crime of being deemed unworthy.

“I cannot,” your voice was assertive, or at least as assertive as you could muster in front of a God, “I… refuse to forgive you.”

“Please be reasonable,” Zhongli begs of you as he approaches you slowly, like a hunter would its prey, even if he claimed to think himself bellow you - you knew he held more power than you “we had no idea – I had no idea… if we’d known earlier, I swear upon Liyue Harbor itself, things would’ve been different.”

“And yet, time runs forwards,” you reply, slowly walking further away from the approaching man, or at least attempting to, but it was no use as he quickly makes his way closer to you, long legs and fit frame having no qualms in cornering you, “I have no use for ‘what if's’ or ‘could be’s’ - what is done is done, we have nothing to talk about, now let me leave because this is getting ridiculous.”

“My god is so stubborn,” he chuckles, acting as if your words meant little to him, something that greatly confused you - he spoke highly of you and yet seemed to think lowly of your person -, “I am afraid I don’t yet know if that’s something I like or not,” he mumbles that last part to himself before addressing you once more, “alas, I cannot let you leave until we reach a suitable agreement, your grace, you’re clearly not thinking clearly if you don’t see the multiple benefits that having me as your servant shall bring; with me by your side, you may as well be unstoppable.”

You scoff, a sense of disdain flows through your veins as you glare at him; you were slowly growing agitated by him and his presence, “First, you claim I’m your God and now you speak of me as an equal, as if I needed you - as if you had a right to speak to me at all -, what is it, Zhongli?”

He says nothing, his eyes take you in, you both know you’re cornered with nowhere to run, with you now completely at his mercy. It reminded you of the times he’d hunt you down with the intent to kill, if you were honest you much preferred the way he looked down at you back then than the current look in his eyes as he judged you with his eyes, as if assessing how worthy you were of his time albeit claiming servitude and humbleness before you.

“How utterly foolish, how… cute.” He chuckles, now only a mere inches away from your face. You hadn’t even noticed the stones he’d raised from the ground caging and forcing you into his proximity.

His hands, cold as they were, find their way to your cheeks. You attempt to swat his hand away but he’s simply too fast, quickly gathering both of your limbs and forcing them against his chest; the position was uncomfortable as you were forced to look up at his larger frame and feel his toned chest, a strange feeling was brewing in your lower region you desperately tried to ignore.

“Of course, you’re my God,” he says, his words serious, he spoke with such conviction it made your skin crawl, “and I’m your humble servant, which is why I am begging you to reconsider your opinion on not only myself but my people as well.”

“Absolutely not.” You accentuate your words, even if they come out a bit muffled from the way he gripped your face, to make your point loud and clear.

“Very well then, you leave me no choice,” he smiles and it sends a shiver down your spine because nothing good has ever come from someone smiling at you like that, “if you won’t let me worship you, then I’ll have to do it by force.”

His lips crash into yours but he makes no move to withdraw his hand from your cheeks, instead he uses it to press deeper into you - as if attempting to consume you whole.

You have no idea how long he’d been kissing you for, all you know is that his lips were devouring your own and that his tongue was battling with yours for control over your own mouth. The hand that grasped your wrist guided your hand to caress the archon’s chest, over his hardening nipples and around his pecs. There’s short intervals between kisses, but he doesn’t properly pull away until you’re begging for him to let you take in oxygen.

“Ah…” Zhongli finally pulls away to breathe, you’re in shock as you look at him, pure anger running through your veins, a complete contrast to the blissful look in his face as a blush overtakes his godly features, “You taste… divine.”

Ridiculous, Zhongli was being completely and utterly ridiculous! Making a joke, and a poor one at that, at a moment like this where he was doing this to you was incredulous. You wanted to scream at him, forcefully make him understand that you didn’t want him nor his sick worship and yet your body easily made way for him to slot his lips against yours once more as he parted them with a squeeze of your cheeks.

“Mhm~” You can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as you feel his tongue enter your mouth once more, “Ah, hmgh… humgh!”

Your back is flat against the wall, the Lord of Geo’s body effectively caging you in, and you have no choice but to part your legs as he places his knee between your own. You can barely breathe properly as he attacks your mouth, as if he’s making sure to explore it until he could map it out, his groping hand that had now left your cheeks and teasing touches don’t help at all as you feel yourself grow dizzy with unwanted arousal, a feeling shimmering in your pussy that has you unconsciously bucking your hips into his strong and firm limbs.

“You look so much better like this, Your grace,” he says as he takes a breather, his eyes – eyes you once adored back when you were home – glowed with arousal as he looked you up and down, “so quiet and docile, so obedient, it makes me want to eat you whole.”

“Rex Lapis! How dare you – ah, ha~ah!” You’re about to scold him and speak up when you break into yet another moan, you almost go cross-eyed as you feel his knee tease your neglected crotch; the cloth of his robes create a texture that feels heavenly against your hardening clit.

“Hmm? What is it, your highness?” He asks, feigning innocence as if he wasn’t the man responsible for your aroused state, “If you wish me to stop, speak up now before I get too, ah, excited.”

Zhongli once again doesn’t give you time to respond before he’s attacking your neck with fluttering kisses, “Come on, if you want me to stop,” he mumbled hungrily, it’s almost brutish the way he handles your body forcing jolts of arousal and pleasure to spark through your body, “say so.”

He’s challenging you to speak up, it’s as if he’s daring you to tell him to stop. He knows, the sick bastard knows that somewhere deep inside you - you still adore and want him, that a sick part of you wants to forgive him and be loved by him.

“Mora-ah~ !” You moan as he sucks at a particularly sensitive spot in your neck, his hands teasingly run across your thighs, caressing the skin in a seductive manner that has you trying to close your legs. Your core is slotted near his knee, where he can teasingly bump it up against it to give you momentary sparks of pleasure.

You want to scream at him to quit toying with you but you can’t formulate the words, not with the soft whimpers and groans you were letting out. He gives you a particularly strong bump, one where your clit — which was growing more sensitive by the second — and his clothed knee come into direct contact. You let out a particularly high pitched moan at that, the feel of his muscle against your lower lips simply intoxicating, that has Zhongli responding with a grunt of his own, something that sounded like your name rumbling from deep inside his throat.

“Such a slut for me,” he manages to get out, he’d been too busy teasing your skin with his teeth to comment on anything for a while, “such a good whore…”

It felt demeaning to be talked down to like that, especially by someone who claimed to wish to become your humble servant, but his words had a primal part of you beaming with satisfaction at being called good. You’re so taken aback by your own reaction you don’t notice him tugging at your robes and undergarments, not until he’s freed your cunt - allowing it to come in contact with the air.

“There we go,” he praises you, finally detaching himself from your neck, which was now littered with bruises and hickies, “your grace, I am truly honored… to be the first of your followers to make love to you…”

There’s a sick, almost delusional, look on his face as he breaks into a soft grin as he palmed your cunt, thick fingers gathering the slick that slowly poured out of your cute hole as it desperately tried grasping at anything.

His hand parts your legs further so he gains better access to your cunt, before he takes his free hand to properly caress your nerves. Slow and sensual movements against your clit and slit have you desperately bucking your hips to meet his fingers, he never inserts a full digit up your gummy walls instead opting to slowly work the opening by stretching your entrance and fingering you only up until his dip joint. Your arousal soon is leaking down your thighs and hitting the floor, making a mess of cum and love juice that would’ve made even the Devil blush, even the amount that escaped your soaking hole surprised, was it normal to be aroused enough to leak into the floor, you wondered.

“You’re ready,” you break out of the hazy mist of lust that clouded your mind as soon as you hear the man speak, “hah… I’ll… I’ll stick it in now, your grace… I’ll make sure to fill you up.”

“What…?” You manage to pant out, but he doesn’t answer you - instead he opts to free his hardened cock from beneath his clothes, a thick and long monster that sends a shiver down your spine as you questioned how he even thought someone could take it without hours of prep beforehand, and directs it towards your soaking entrance, “Z-Zhongli… don’t, please… you’re too big and… I’m not, I’m not ready… please, don’t… I’ll forgive you if you stop, stop! Just please, no… stop, I… I’m sorry, I…”

He pays your begging no mind as he slots his tip inside of your hole, which is enough to have you desperately clawing at his arms; “Hah, your highness… we - we’re becoming one…”

The Lord of Geo decides to ignore you, opting instead to slowly sink himself further into your gummy walls, even with the previous preparation and the slick you’d released your cunt was gasping in pain as you felt his thick dick enter your poor, tight pussy; before you knew it you were practically spasming around his length, awkwardly jolting and jumping as his cock slowly made its way past your tight muscles. The pleasant burn and torturous slow pace has you gasping and rolling your eyes towards the back of your head; he’s not even completely inside of you and you feel so… full. You don’t even want to imagine what it’d be like to have all of him inside you.

“Hah~ Hah,” you hear him pant beside your ear, his hot breath making you shiver, “you’re… tight…”

Your face is heating up at his words, it doesn’t help he’s slowly pressing himself deeper into your hole nor that he is slowly grinding himself against your walls in an attempt to ease your tense body.

“You’re t-too big…” You miraculously manage to get his hands off of you, “Fuck, get off… please… g-hgkh! ”

You trail off, too focused on the pleasure at hand to finish your thoughts. You didn’t want this, you didn’t want to have his dick inside you and yet your body sucked him in so greedily. You’re shaking and panting by the time he finally bottoms out, his balls hitting the fat of your ass with a soft thud that made your walls momentarily tighten at the lewd and erotic sound, it was too much and yet you were beginning to grow fond of the feeling of his cock bulging against your stomach.

Zhongli lets you sit on his dick for a while, allowing you to get accustomed to the feeling of fullness, probably trying to get used to the feeling of your warm walls encasing his dick, you try to pull him off you one last time but he doesn’t even budge, he’s too big, in retaliation, he gives a smooth roll of his hips that has his cock rubbing against every nook and cranny inside of you, including your special, spongy spot that had you seeing stars.

“U-ugh…” You let out a gurgle, you don’t want to admit it but the way his dick felt inside you had you seeing Celestia.

It’s the realization that he had no intention of letting you go un-fucked, and the shame of feeling aroused, that has you finally releasing the death grip you’d had on his arms, a sense of defeat and humiliation settled in your stomach; to preserve any reminder of your dignity it’s best you just let him use your hole like a toy. You’d denounce him, obviously, once the act was done and you’d have him sentenced, hopefully, to death for defiling you - that’s truly the only comfort you have.

It seems he takes your now compliant state as a go ahead to start moving. It’s painful at first, you’re overly aware of how his cock is moving inside of you and the feeling of pleasure is almost completely overshadowed by hatred and humiliation, your companion, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. You’re certain this whole event would be uncomfortable and unpleasant, you doubt you’ll even finish, or at least, you did until a particular thrust hit a particularly sensitive nerve that sent an aggressive wave of pleasure coursing through your veins, it’s blinding, it quite literally took your breath away as your brain struggled to process the unexpected yet erogenous sensation.

“S-shit!” You gasp, your whole body twitching. For a second, all thoughts left your mind, only a primal need to feel good again taking over as the wave rocked through your body, infiltrating every nerve and muscle, coursing through your brain as you desperately tried to prolong the almost intoxicating sensation. You don’t even realize how tightly your cunt is clutching his dick until he lets out a condescending, deep laugh.

“D-did you feel good, your highness?” His breath hits your ear and you suddenly feel overstimulated from your recent release and the feeling of his burning skin encasing you.

His words bring you back to reality and you have to restrain yourself from biting a chunk of his skin, you’re still trying to come back from your high, a high you desperately wanted to deny; “A-as if, hah, a monster-r such as yourself could pleasure me… f-fuck!”

“Is that a challenge, your grace,” he asks, golden eyes narrowing in amusement, , “if so,” he adjust your position, suddenly your legs are no long touching the floor as he’s taken them into his arms, his hands hold your knees so you can’t fall nor escape his brutal thrusts, you’re at his mercy, “I won't back down.”

That’s the start to an agonizing pace, one where he’d give deep, sensual thrust into your pussy - he’d start of slow, making sure you felt every vein and bump that made up his cock -, and then pick up the pace momentarily with short yet precise, rapid thrusts that had you bouncing in his arms like a rag doll.

“Do you like it, my beloved?” He lets out as he desperately tries to coax a confession of pleasure out of your lips, keenly aware of the way your insides became harder to exit the more aroused you were, “If, ha-ah, if I pleasure you like this everyday, you surely will forgive me, r-right?”

You’re too preoccupied with the way Zhongli’s hardened length rubbed a particular spot inside your walls that had your legs tensing helplessly in his grasp to answer; you could feel a ball of uncomfortable pleasure build up in your lower region that had you panting the more it grew.

Your thoughts were slipping away as the man lowered his hand to toy with your hardened clit, you felt like you were about to cum from that ministration alone but you helplessly try to stop yourself; you’re certain that if you cum even once you’d completely lose yourself, it was already hard enough not to beg for him to stop teasing you and fuck you properly as it was, and you’re certain that the minute your slick coats his dick, you won’t be able to stop yourself from begging to be fucked like an animal in heat. But it was so hard, so terribly hard, especially when he began kissing and teasing the hickies he’d previously painted over your body, the added feeling of your clit being rubbed as your cunt was being pounded into in different rhythms had you bucking your hips to meet his own - even a second without his cock inside of you was becoming unbearable, you… you needed his dick, you needed to feel good.

You wanted to sob from the frustration of the never ceasing pleasure that was building inside you, you wanted to cum so bad you were growing desperate, not even realizing your hips had begun moving on their own in an attempt to hurry up your release. You don’t think you’ve ever been so sexually frustrated, continuously growing restless as your head began clouding from pleasure.

It’s as if he was reading your mind because as soon as the thought hits you, he moves near your ear to moan in a low voice; “Go ahead, my love, cum for me… just know that if you do, I’ll take it as an invitation to become yours… Come on, make this dick yours, I… ha-ah… I know you want to.”

Wasn’t that so lovely? Wasn’t that such a wonderful agreement; in exchange for your slick, you would have one of the greatest cocks in the continent as your own personal servant!

Because it was what you deserved right? After all those months of pain and hurt, you deserved to feel good and be loved like you always were meant to be loved.

Zhongli notices your apprehension and he doesn’t blame you, but he was going to make things right; he had to, no matter what, no matter how, no matter what it takes, he will make it up to you. Even if it meant lowering himself from the status of Archon, even if he had to apologize and beg.

“I’m so sorry,” he begins mumbling into your skin as his cock keeps abusing your hole, he knows it’s an underhanded method but he doesn’t care, he meant every word he said - even if his way of showing his feelings was wrong, “you didn’t deserve any of it, no… y-you should be worshiped, you’re – fuck! You’re my savior, you’re everything to me, everything… I love you, I love you, I-I’m y-yours,” your cunt unwillingly clenches at that, “I-I’m yours to do as you please… you’re so good to me, so good… Come on, cum on me, use my cock… Allow me to repent for my actions, you will - won’t you?”

As one of his hands continues to rub your clit, the other supports your body weight, he doesn’t even seem to break a sweat as he holds you and fucks himself silly inside your tightening cunt.

There’s something about his desperate tone, the way he whines into your skin in between kisses and sucking, that has you believing his words; maybe he was regretful, maybe he did see what he did wrong, he was clearly trying to make it up for you by having sex with you, right? This was okay, right? He was sincere, you both knew he held a deep hatred for his actions, he’d been begging to see you ever since he’d learn of your true identity, he’d sent you gifts and offerings in an attempt to swing your favor; Rex Lapis didn’t do that for anyone, Zhongli didn’t do that for anyone.

He kept going on and on about how sorry he was, how desperate he was to feel you cum on his cock, how badly he wanted to serve you, how much you meant to him, how everything he ever did was for you; he loved you, he needed you, he wanted to be with you, he needed to be with you. His voice was growing raspy and whiny, a completely new side to the normally composed and cool Zhongli you were used to.

His words begin to seep into your brain, his admissions of guilt, his declarations of love, the way he begged you to take him as your own.

“I-I feel your pussy tighten,” he mumbles, “you’re so… you feel so good, mhm… I’ll be yours, I’ll make it up to you, everything – Please, s-shit, let me be yours, I want to be yours, allow me to serve you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Zh-zhongli…”

“Your grace,” he moans and you can feel the way his body shudders as you whimper his name, “I’ll do anything for you, please - please, ha~ah?! Make me yours, let’s cum together, please, I want to cum inside you, I want you to come… If I make you cum, you’ll let me serve you, right? M-my lord, mine, mine… I’ll claim you as mine, my own god, only m-mine, mhm-mmph… I’ll make it up to you, you’ll be mine, you’ll love me, you’ll love me-ah, we’ll do this e-everyday a-and you’ll be mine, hah~”

You felt the last of yourself break as the words he whispered made your cunt squirt all over the Archon, the one who’d hunted you for sport, made your life a living hell, who’d offered his body and power as an apology; he now stood with his hips and pelvis covered in your cum.

“C-cumming! Ah, ah-hah… I’m cumming, ‘m cumming, shit! I’m cumming on your c-cock! Hah, hah… ah~ah, ghk-k!”!

Yet you couldn’t stop, your poor pussy kept leaking as you convulsed from the intensity. It didn’t help that Zhongli made a point of pressing himself as deeply as he could inside of your pussy, as if trying to penetrate your womb with the tip of cock.

It’s as if your body had been lit on fire, your body twitches and turns as you gush all over the floor, it’s an electrifying feeling as you give up control and succumb to pleasure.

Cock, you were cumming on Zhongli’s cock, on the man who wanted you dead only a few weeks ago, you were on his cock, his cock was inside you, your cum was coating his cock - the cock that was humping your pussy, the man who was groping you, the one who’s threatened to kill you. You could only think about his cock, the big, long, thick, fat cock that had you drooling over yourself. You didn’t know what was leaking out of your pussy, it kept coming and coming out, coating the Archon’s lower half with your love juices - your legs hurt as you tensed and twitched and your nipples and clit all felt painfully hard.

It takes you a few seconds to stop cumming and yet, even as you were held in his arms panting from the feeling, you weren’t tired – in fact, you don’t think you’d ever felt better.

It seemed the man balls deep inside of you was feeling the same way for it doesn’t even take him more than a minute to start bouncing your limp body on his cock once more.

“More… I want more, more, wanna… wanna cum again.” You’re too out of it to realize you were speaking your thoughts, too desperate and drunk on the feeling of sex and the pleasure it was bringing you to feel shame.

Even though your body felt heavy as lead, you weakly try to match the rhythm set by Zhongli with your hips, desperately searching for the pleasure he’d given you minutes before.

If you’d been looking at his face, you would have been able to see the look of surprise that washed over his handsome features; was this really you? Had it truly only taken you a good fuck to temper you out? His golden eyes seem to glow brighter as his excitement grows, his dick somehow hardening even more albeit still being inside of your warmth. He takes it as a sign to adjust your body one more time, taking you in his arms once more and allowing him to bounce you on his cock like a toy.

You’re too sex-brained to fully comprehend what was going on, only truly thinking with your cunt - desperate to feel the white ball of pleasure explode inside of you once more and to feel Zhongli coat your insides with his cum.

“Ha-ah, Zhongli,” you whine, your voice comes out airy and unsteady as your whole body bounces on his dick, “p-please… c-cum inside me! ‘Wanna feel your cum inside my pussy, pl- fuck! Ah, ah - feels good, your cock feels so good! ‘m gonna cum again, wanna cum with you… hah, hah, l-let’s cum together…!”

You can feel his breath hit your neck as he nuzzles into into your shoulder, an airy chuckle soon followed by teasing words;

“I-I, hmm… I thought you’d never f-feel pleasure from a monster such as myself,” his voice is raspy as if he were barely containing himself, “my grace is such a g-greedy liar…”

As if to prove his point he gives you a particularly rough thrust, one that has you seeing black as your eyes roll back from the pleasure.

“P-please… I want your cum inside of me, ghk! Want your cum, wanna feel your cum on my pussy, wanna be your… your, wanna…! Fuck, you feel s-sho’ good, so go~oh~od, aha, ahhhh…!?”

“Don’t worry, my beloved,” he breathes out, hurrying the pace of his hips, he never fully removes his cock from you, instead opting for shallow thrusts that are aided by the length and girth he possesses, “my only wish… is to serve you.”

You can’t even respond as one hand comes to massage your breast and the other lowers itself to play with your clit, the added ministrations have you panting and desperately grinding yourself against the Archon; your body felt like it was on fire from the heat that bloomed from where your two bodies became one.

“‘M close, ‘m gonna cum inside you.”

Those are the only words you have to brace yourself before hot, sticky cum is shot inside your aching body, painting your pink insides white with his depraved love. He doesn’t say anything, his own brain seemingly turned into mush, only capable of low groans and moans that border on animalistic while he made sure to press himself as deep as he humanly could, making sure that not a drop of the cum you’d asked for escaped your greedy hole.

As he rides off his high, emptying his balls inside of you as he softly rocked your body, you can feel your sex clench and slick begin to ooze out of your cute hole. He notices it, and begins rubbing your clit in an attempt to coax you into cumming for him. His finger feels heavenly as he rubs it in quick, fluid motions across your clit and vulva, the cum from your previous release and the overflowing left overs from his own aid you as your feet begin to curl and a ball of pleasure that had been growing inside your lower half finally explodes and you cum one more time on Zhongli’s cock.

Albeit not nearly as sudden nor shocking as the first one, you’re still left a twitchy and aching mess as your legs fall limp in your captor’s arms.

But after tonight, your brain could hardly process him as a threat, everything before the second he’d inserted his dick inside you felt like a distant nightmare, the man who now cradled your body was no longer your enemy - not now, not to you. Your eyelids feel heavy and you’re beginning to doze off as you feel a sloppy kiss be left on your cheek, you look up at Zhongli for the first time since he’d started to fuck you.

His pale skin is burning pink, sweat rolls off his handsome features, his lips look rosy pink and you can see faint bites on them from when he desperately contained his moans, he looked nothing like the God who’d terrorized you previously; his eyes were the easiest give away, however, where they once were full with hatred and disgust, they now shined with passion and servitude.

In his mind, he’d earned your forgiveness, the debauched act of taking you against your will was his last ditch attempt at making things right, and so from today onwards, in his perturbed mind, he was officially your first follower in the continent of Teyvat and most devout worshiper.

“Mhm…” A smile blooms on his lips as he squeezes your ass, the geo wall vanished and you’re left clinging to Zhongli as he adjusts his cock inside of you, the soft movement has you jumping from overstimulation, your sex drunk look endears the Archon as he duly noted his guests’ footsteps approaching, “let’s show them how to properly serve you, shall we?”’

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ikigaisvt · 1 year

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our dawn is hotter than day.

in which you and your boyfriend says i love you for the first time surrounded by his friends.

pairing: jeonghan x reader, seventeen x reader (in a friendship way lmao dw) words: 1.6k content: fluff warnings: talk of drinking (like two times but it's not a main theme), reader sits on jeonghan's lap, reader kisses jeonghan's cheek, they hold hands, jeonghan's tucks reader's hair away from their face, pda ig?, petnames (for reader: angel, baby / for jeonghan: hannie) note: jeonghan's instagram post from a few days ruined me,, he's my bf :( this idea was mostly @homerunhansol so credits to her for this story (and for making me delusional about hannie 🫶) thank you bb! minors can interact with this fic but pls don't follow! comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated, pls don't forget

You thought when you would meet Jeonghan’s bandmates – his soulmates if we’re being truthful, that it would be nerve-recking. You thought you would be stuck to your boyfriend’s side, never letting go of his hand and always looking at him only, never meeting anyone’s eyes. No matter how many times he said in a reassuring tone you will be just fine, you didn’t believe him. You knew you were going to be anxious and there was no way around it. At least, you thought you knew.

What you never expected is – as the forever introvert you are, that you would get along with them this well. Since you walked into the place the 13 boys have rented for the weekend, it has been a constant exchange of laughter, smiles, drinks and food. Even the most introverted boys – such as Wonwoo or Soonyoung (who’s the shyest of the band, surprisingly) have opened to you. What you have realized in this little time together is that there is a snippet of Jeonghan in every single one of them. And that makes them feel like home, as if they always were just this much to you.

That’s how you find yourself, enjoying the night away, as it is still young, with 13 boys. You and Booseoksoon, which you have learned are the entertainers of Seventeen, enjoyed the karaoke together, singing at least 5 songs before the eyes of the other boys whom are clearly amused. A few times Chan joins you four to add some humor to the performance - and Seungkwan squeals every time or Jihoon adds some of his beautiful notes into the background. You have spent most of your night away from your boyfriend as he watches you from the couch, smiling and giggling, a beer in hand, at the way you are getting along so well with his favorite people in the world. It truly is a gift to see you this happy with the ones that made him into who he is.

As the night get deeper and colder, you find yourself at the campfire with most of the 13 boys – some of them being too tired to continue the night, to settle down and talk some more. Sat down on Jeonghan’s lap, in one of his comfiest hoodies, you talk and laugh with the boys as they share some of their funniest stories. You think your favorite one so far is about the famous Dokyeom and Seungkwan fight in Jeju.

It’s after almost an hour outside that you feel Jeonghan pulling you closer by the waist, resting his head on your back.

“Angel,” you hear him whisper softly.

“Hm, what is it, Hannie?” you answer quietly, turning around a little to see him look up to you with doe eyes.

"Are you enjoying tonight?" your boyfriend asks you, his eyes shining so much you wonder if the galaxy didn't find a home within him.

"Yeah, I am!" you tell him with a shy smile, knowing he's going to tease you with an I told you so even though it never comes. You see Jeonghan thinking about his next words, the teasing still ever present in his eyes when you hear a voice calling for you.

"Y/N!" Dokyeom says loudly to catch your attention, "Come talk with us!" he adds, sitting next to Seungkwan. You give them a thumbs up before turning around in Jeonghan's embrace, giving him a kiss on the cheek and squeezing his hand.

You spend the next hour or so sat down with Dokyeom and Seungkwan as you talk and laugh as if you knew each other for years. You only look up once or twice to look at your boyfriend, your eyes locking every time. If you were more attentive to him, you'd see how he'd be distracted by you, not being able to hold a conversation with anyone, including Seungcheol. He knew, when he first asked you to meet his members, that it would pull at his heartstrings. Despite all your beliefs, he knew you would fit in just well and they would welcome you with arms wide open.

He never really took the time to think about what it could mean for him. To see his favorite people love each other this much. He was hit with a wave of familiarity at the scene, as if his life always was like this, as if you were always just right by his side. However, what hit him the most at this instant, as he hears your laugh meld with Dokyeom's, was love. For some months he had been thinking of how much he loves you; he felt it mostly when you'd cook his favorite meal for him after he'd tell you practice was hard on this day, he could feel it in the way his heart would miss a beat when your eyes crinkle up in a smile or when you'd cling to his shirt, when he joins you in the middle of the night, making butterflies erupt in his stomach. But the moment he could feel it the most was right now: seeing you be your true self around his own people made him realize he wanted to provide this safe place for you for as long as you wanted him to. If you needed an island to rest on, he will be one for you.

It's after a few minutes, when Dokyeom decides to go to sleep and Seungkwan gets in a chaotic conversation with Chan, that you join him again, finding rest on his lap once more. As you talk lively with Seungcheol, the idea of playing mafia game pops up in the conversation which gets everyone excited.

After 2 mafia games - one won by Jeonghan as a mafia, the other one by the mafias again, which you were a part of, you can feel the sleepiness seeping through your bones. As you and your boyfriend were already eliminated from the current game, you fully let yourself rest against your boyfriend, your head in the crook of his neck, his hands keeping you still at the waist. You feel yourself drowsing off to the sound of Jeonghan's laughter, losing it at some of the boys' competitiveness.

"Baby," he whispers in your ear, "do you want to go to bed?"

"No, no," you whimper, shaking your head slightly, "Wanna stay here. With you." you confirm, grabbing his hand tightly.

"Okay, angel." he says in a short chuckle, "But let me know when you want to go, hm?"

"I will, don't worry. Thank you, Hannie." you say sweetly, looking at him. The stars found a home in her eyes, Jeonghan thinks to himself.

"I love you." he says in a mutter, entirely to himself, thinking you're already dozing back to sleep.

Yet, he hears your giggle and feel the smile forming as your cheeks hit the curve of his neck.

"I love you too," you answer, still giggling. "Why are you saying this so suddenly?" you murmur, hiding your head deeper in his neck so no one can see the blush covering your cheeks.

"First of all, I didn't think you'd hear that and-" he says in a pout, as you look up at him, seeing a blush on his face.

"I can't believe the Yoon Jeonghan is blushing." you tease softly as you start to play with his fingers.

"And-" Jeonghan starts again, ignoring your teasing - even though a small smile makes its way on his lips, "I do really love you. Seeing you tonight, with all of them, tugged at my heartstrings." He explains, brushing your hair out of your face, "I felt like you were comfortable around them and it just makes me want to have countless days and nights with all of you. I just realized how I want to be with you forever." he confesses, still looking down at you, your eyes welling up with tears at his words.

"You know, why I felt this comfortable tonight?" you ask, waiting for his answer which comes in a shake of his head, "Because they really feel like you. Not in the I'm-in-love-with-you way- because yeah, I am in love with you, but- I just see parts of you within them. In their actions, in their kindnesses, in their words; that's why I felt so safe. They are people you love," you say as look around to see them still playing mafia game - Mingyu on his knees, begging Seungkwan not to kill him, making you snort, "You all grew up together, you taught each other how to be good people, and you did it pretty well. I don't think there'd be a single soul who would not feel safe with any of you." you tell him, holding his hand, "I was nervous about meeting them all, I wanted them to like me but tonight I realized it would be pretty damn hard to be hated by them-" you chuckle softly, your eyes meeting, "That's why I was so myself tonight."

"They'd never hate you." he whispers, "Not because they are good people - God only knows these idiots can be petty as well," he sneers, all the love in the world showing up in his eyes, "but because they saw how you made me happy, day after day. And that was enough for them to love you. It will always be enough." he tells you, eyes still locked, "Also- I am in love with you too." he adds as Seungkwan screams out in despair for losing while Chan stands up and does a silly dance to celebrate his victory, making you both laugh out loud at their antics. You look up briefly at the sky, seeing the stars still shining bright even though it is becoming brighter as the minutes passes by. I don't think I will be able to sleep anytime soon, you think to yourself as you feel your heart buzz with excitement, your boyfriend pulling you closer by the waist. But after all, as 13 boys once said, our dawn is hotter than day.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it 🫶

#sammy's works #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen one shot #seventeen fics #seventeen drabble #seventeen reactions #seventeen au #svt fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan one shot #jeonghan fics #jeonghan drabble #jeonghan au

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elliespeach · 11 months

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tear you apart part three | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"you're a charmer, aren't you?" ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. wordcount: 3.1k warnings: murder 😱 and stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! an: i cannot express enough how thankful i am for all the love for this story really it means so much. obsessive ellie nation rise once again, i come before you with this part and i hope it was worth the wait :) xoxo

watching you cry yourself to sleep on your couch made ellie’s heart throb. she wanted to be there for you, to hold you, to tell you everything was going to be okay, that she was going to make it all okay. but she knew better than to expect that you’d let her, after all, you still barely knew her. so how is it that she could lead you straight into her arms, where you belong?

it was the next day, and although your state of mind was completely shattered by the events of the previous night, ellie was wide awake, ecstatic at her new idea on how to make you all better. she would hope that your encounter with her helped you, as much as it could but she couldn’t just rely on that, ellie had to take action. she never wanted to see you in tears over someone like that again.

starting her day in the shop as normal, she filled orders, fixed a few finicky records and sold boring albums to boring souls who she wished was you. she spent the better part of the morning fantazizing about you wandering into her store yet again. needing help finding an album, or better yet just to talk to her. it hasnt even been more than twelve hours and she missed your voice already, replaying your conversation over and over in her head like her favorite movie.

while the traffic in the store died down, ellie did more research on the newly found suzanna mavis. formally known as suzanna hardwick, she grew up in a cushy home, with preppy parents who supported every endenvour she seemed to possess. her facebook was littered with photos of shuana in every aspect of her life, along with her prized possession; a baby blue mercedes benz. but, there seemed to be someone missing, her husband of twenty five years was seemingly no where to be found on her social media. when ellie searched his name alone, mr. mavis seemed to have no social media at all.

thats fine, ellie only needed suzanna.

finding out where she worked required no effort at all as it was displayed clearly on her facebook profile. she was the assistant to some shareholder, blah blah boring. but the company name was one she recongized, their office building was just a few blocks down from her store. she passed it nearly everyday on her commute to see you.

for ellie’s plan to work, she had to close the store early. it was barely noon when she found herself in the parking garage to suzanna’s building. there was a guard booth, but no guards and the garage itself was a ghost town of rich people cars. she spotted the blue mercedes, and her plan was in motion..

thanks to you so graciously and unknowingly, giving her suzanna’s personal cell phone number, she dialed and it only rang once, her preppy voice ringing in ellie’s ears. she almost felt her stomach whirling in anticipation, but the sensation quickly washed away into something more sinister. no. protective

“suzanna mavis speaking,”

ellie paced back and forth near the elevator in the garage, “hey, mrs. mavis,” she rolled her eyes at her own voice, trying to sound not like herself, “i’m one of the guards down in the parking garage, looks like someone keyed your benz this morning.”

ellie heard a loud sigh, then the distant sounds of heels clicking on the ground. “are you kidding me? you didn’t stop them?”

ellie suppressed a sigh, “i was on lunch–”

“your job is to guard our cars, if you can’t even do that–” her voice was shrill, and ellie’s patience was running low.

“ma’am, just come downstairs, the police need a statement.”

ellie heard a few curses string from the phone before the call ended, she chuckled to herself before sliding her phone into her pocket. ellie slowly walked over to the blue mercedes, examining it up close. she crouched down, removing her small switchblade and flinging it open. she almost didn’t do it, it was unnecessary really. but the image of you so broken by her made ellie’s mouth twitch. how she had smiled at you while speaking about her husband, ignoring you, leading you on, preying on you. the switchblade moved as if it had it’s own mind, scratching the car from back to front in one swift movement.

breathing out in relief, ellie heard the ding of the elevator behind her.

she watched from behind a nearby car as suzanna stepped out of the elevator, a sour puss on her face as she made her way towards her car. she groaned when she saw the long, deep slice into the side of the car. ellie pulled up her handkerchief over her nose and while suzanna was busy inspecting her car, ellie pounced.

she had a hand covering suzanna’s mouth, her switchblade pressed against her neck with the other. suzanna thrashed in her arms but ellie held her ground, “shh, shh!” ellie hissed in her ear, whisking her around and pinning her to her own car. “i’m not going to kill you, shut up–”

ellie kept the switchblade at her throat, quickly looking around. with the coast clear, she slowly removed her hand from suzanna’s mouth. “take my money, please i don’t–”

“i don’t want that either,” ellie looked suzanna up and down. her? you’re losing your mind over her? “i want you to speed up your big family move to california. leave tomorrow.”

suzanna’s eye furrowed as if she was confused, “w-what?”

“you’re moving to california at the end of the summer, are you not?” ellie’s paitence was growing thinner by the second, and the switchblade was pressed into her neck so deep any movement would draw blood.

suzanna was shaking underneath ellie, and as she spoke her voice was weak, “what? my family was never moving to california, please i’ll give you anything!”

shauna lied? why the hell would she lie about that?

“go anyway. leave the city.” leave you alone.

“i can’t just pick up my whole family and move to another state, we-we have a life here.” suzanna was trembling now, her voice shaking just as much as her legs.

well, if you won’t leave on your own. “i really didn’t want to have to kill you,” ellie said casually, almost annoyed. she moved quickly, snatching a clump of suzanna’s hair in her hand and whipping her around. ellie barely blinked as she slammed suzanna’s face into the baby blue mersedes. once. harder. twice. harder. three times. even harder. four times. as hard as physically possible. blood stained the blue on the car, and suzanna’s body fell to the ground as ellie let go. limp. dead.

out of your life.

– later that day

ellie realized she had fucked up big time when she got back to the store.

the night she saved you, she shouldve given you her number. she had no way to check up on you, to make sure you were okay with the news to come. she would have to go back to her tried and true; “accidentally” running into you. before she could see online which bar you and your friends would overdrink at tonight, ellie found you standing outside her store. you came all this way to see me.

“hi ellie,” you smiled brightly, illuminated by neon red sign on her store. you must not know yet. poor baby.

“hey stranger,” ellie kept her voice calm, but she hoped that her bodys reaction to seeing you wasn’t visible. she could feel her face grow hot, and she did her best to hide it by keeping her back to you as she locked the stores door. she could smell your sweet perfume from here, and she cleared her throat before speaking again, turning to face you now that the redness in her face had diminished, “if you’re here for a vinyl, i’ll ring you up still–”

“no, no, i came to see you.” you replied shyly, quickly glancing at your feet before meeting her gaze again with your soft eyes. while you had glanced away, ellie took you all in. she admired the dedication you put into your outfits, and she liked to believe you picked this one out just for her.

“oh?” was all ellie could say. she was busy imagining you standing in front of your mirror, trying on a thousand different outfits. ellie would’ve loved every single one of them regardless, as long as they are on you. she thought about you doing your makeup all pretty, how long that must take. detailing your face for hours, just for me.

“yeah. i wanted to see if you’d like to get drinks with me tonight?”

oh.

her eyes widened, never did she think that you’d ask her out. she wanted to be the one to wisk you away for a perfect date that you deserved. but ellie would settle for drinks for now, until she finally could take you on a real date. she composed herself, remaining casual. as casual as she could be. “yeah, i’d love that. we could go now, i’m done with the store for today.”

“yeah, let’s go,” you flashed another smile at ellie, which she returned. it was like the universe was rewarding her for her good deed. you coming to see her, to ask her out. it seemed like everything was falling perfectly into place. now that suzanna was gone.

ellie had been racking her brain all day about what suzanna had told her. that there was never any intention to move at all. that shauna had lied, for what? a reaction? why would she even want that kind of reaction out of you in the first place?

what was shauna hiding?

“so, why’re you in new york? are you from here?” ellie inquired, for no other reason that to hear you talk. you’re here for your art.

“not from here, i moved here to hopefully make a name for myself as an artist. what about you?” ellie didn’t want to talk about herself, not when you were so lovely. but you were asking about her, and she couldn’t say no to you if she tried.

“i moved here a few years ago,” ellie revealed, but immediately diverted the conversation back to you. “you’re an artist? well, now i have to see a piece of yours.” ellie’s looked through your instagram enough, she’s seen every one a million times already.

you laughed, looking away sheepishly. “i’m no picasso,”

“no, but you’re you. so, they can’t be that bad, can they?”

again, you blushed, giving ellie a shy smile. “you’re a charmer, aren’t you?”

“i try, what can i say.” ellie shrugged, and you pointed out the bar to her.

she held the door open for you, the music already defenening her ears. it wasn’t a regular bar where you could sit and talk, it was a dancing bar. the bass in the speakers rumbled at her feet, sending shock waves up her spine. this wasn’t ellie’s crowd by a mile, but you looked back at her with the face of an angel and grabbed her hand softly to lead her towards the bar. ellie wasn’t going anywhere, not as long as you were here.

reaching the bar, you asked for four green tea shots, two each. “yuck, green tea shots?” ellie teased, basically yelling over the music. this time ellie wasn’t worried if you wanted to over indulge, this time she could watch over you for real. and she wasn’t about to make the same mistake your friends made.

you leaned into her so that you could speak into her ear, and ellie’s heart fluttered in her chest. you were close, very close. the top you were wearing exposed the entirety of your upper torso and she found it hard not to stare. “yes, green tea shots! keep up, ellie.” you laughed, pushing two of the shots to her that bartender left on the counter.

ellie picked one of them up, holding it out for you to cheer to with your own, “i’ll do my best,” she responded, looking into your shimmering eyes. the things i do for you. you tapped her shot glass, and you both took down the shot with ease, although ellie’s grimaced face told you that she did not like shots, but she picked up the second one before you.

her grimace didn’t go away with the second one, it actually went down worse for ellie. but it seemed her reaction made you laugh, and ellie was okay with the burning in her throat. before she could recover from the back to back shots, you took her hand again. the same electricity as before stirred inside of her at your touch and she barely noticed you brought her out to the middle of the dance floor, people on all sides dancing to the beat of the very loud music, that seemed to only get louder.

but you started to sway your hips to the beat.

and ellie’s breath caught in her throat.

she realized way too late that she hadn’t eaten today, and those shots were already starting to make her head feel fuzzy. and now here you were in front of her, moving your body in ways that ellie had only dreamed of witnessing firsthand. literally.

with the alcohol swiftly entering her system with every second that went by, she started to move to the music with you. only a minute went by before her hands were planted on your hips, unable to stop herself before doing so. though, you didn’t seem to mind, if anything it looked like you had closed the remaining gap between the two of you. not ellie.

with your bodies touching with every movement, and ellie’s hands on your hips, it became very intimate. very fast. ellie’s mind was no longer racing at the thought of you being this close to her, instead, it felt like it ignited something inside of her. between the sensual music blaring, the alcohol and most imporantly your chest brushing against ellie’s own every chance it got, she was losing control over herself.

finally, ellie removed a hand from your hip, bringing it up to your cheek. she held it there for a second, looking into your eyes as she did. you stared back with the same intensity and ellie knew she wasn’t going to be able to stop herself. she watched as you glanced down to her lips, you saw the makings of a smirk before her lips were on yours.

for a second, ellie thought she was going to wake up. that this had been a dream somehow, she’s had a similar one before with you in it, but when she felt your hands lightly tugging on her hair she knew she couldn’t be fake. ellie pulled you closer, the people around you both be damned, she just wanted more of you. her hands were now wrapped around you, resting on your lower back while your tongue slipped into her mouth.

ellie groaned. which you shouldn’t have been able to hear, but you felt the vibration on your lips. ellie didn’t care anyway, not when your body was pressed against hers and she could feel very inch of you.

ellie was no where near finished, but you had pulled away. the music was no longer muffled in her ears, and she was desperately clinging to the sensation you left on her lips. but your attention had been moved to your phone.

“sorry, i could feel it buzzing non-stop in my pocket. my friend’s calling me, can we go outside?”

shit. shit. shit. shit. “yeah, no problem,” big problem. big big problem.

ellie followed you outside, preparing herself for the worst. as the night air slapped ellie in the face, her thoughts became more clear. i kissed you. you kissed me back.

you put the phone to your ear, and ellie made herself busy by pretending to look at her own phone, scrolling through her settings.

“hey shauna, sorry i didn’t see your calls, i’m on a da– what?” your voice, that had been caring a rather happy tone turned cold, and undeniably shocked.

“do they know who did it?” you asked, turning away from ellie and slowly pacing as you listened to whatever shuana was saying. you nodded your head a few times before speaking again, “do you want me to come over?” your voice started to shake, and for a second ellie regretted her decision. this will be good for you. in time you’ll realize she was no good for you.

“okay…if you need anything, i mean anything shuana, please call me.”

ellie looked up from her phone, an eyebrow raised slightly. “everything okay?” she chirped, sliding her phone into her pocket. you turned around, those beautiful shimmering eyes glistening with tears. “hey, whats wrong?” ellie moved closer, her tone soft and welcoming.

“my best friends mom was just murdered,” you managed to choke out, and before you could say more, ellie’s arms were wrapped around you tightly. she knew you’d hurt for a while, and that was okay. she would be kind of weirded out if you weren’t, but with time she knew you’d be better. you’d both be better with each other. your face was buried in ellie’s neck with tears marking her shirt while she rubbed your back slowly.

ellie was calming you the best she could, whispering a soft ‘it’ll be okay’ every few seconds that you remained in the crook of her neck.

you spoke against her skin softly, your voice sounding weak and defeated, “can you walk me home, ellie? please?”

“of course,” she kissed the top of your head, not letting you out of the hug until you pulled back. you locked your arms around hers, using her for support as she walked you home.

ellie had to remind herself to ask you how to get there, after already taking one right turn by accident she was scared you’d question why. but obviously your mind was elsewhere.

ellie knew her night with you was over, that she would remeince on your shared kiss for days to come until you felt well enough to see her again. to kiss me again. the walk was silent, not an uncomfortable silent but a shared understanding that the mood was low, and ellie was content just being with you, she didn’t need to talk. she was prepared to walk you all the way up to your door, and tell you to call her if you needed anything but when she stopped at the main door to your apartment, you looked back at her with doefully sad eyes.

“can you stay with me?”

can you stay with me. rang in her ears like a song. don’t smile. dont fucking smile.

“yeah, i’ll stay with you.”

you brought her inside, and ellie looked around like she had never been here before. the apartment was dark, and you didn’t go to turn on any of the lights. instead, ellie followed you into your room, choosing to ignore the mess that was your apartment. she decided to focus on you, and when you sunk into your bed, ellie was next to you in a heart beat.

she didn’t move to cuddle you, fearing she would be over stepping. im in your bed. and youre in it too. like a kid on christmas morning, but your soft crying brought her back down to reality. you shifted, bringing your body up against ellie’s for the second time tonight, resting your head on her shoulder with an arm draped over her. ellie wanted to hold her breath, scared you’d move at the slightest movement from her but you were leaning on her for comfort. her whole plan was to comfort you back to normal.

her hand moved to your back, and the slow circles she rubbed lulled you to sleep. but ellie was still wide awake.

————

tags <3 @aouiaa @kissmxcheek @spaceshipellie @strgrlxox @machetegirl109 @uraesthete @mousymaven @ucannotcompare @imahallucination11 @thatgiraffefromtlou @cjrights @sc0ttstre3ted @nicolicht @p1llowthoughtss @ellabsmasc

((sorry if you’ve seen this already and are getting tagged i totally forgot when i posted!!))

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fic #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams au #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams au fanfiction

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lawva-girl · 3 months

Text

Historically.. We don't mix.

Law x fem!Reader, College AU

Notes: the things that don't mix are history and stem majors!!! this came to me in a dream forever ago and ive been sitting on it since. This is only part one to... idk how many but yes! I have a loose outline, we can bet on 5 parts but thats a scary bet to make methinks. Enjoy :) also i apologize if the pov switching in the first bit is weird, i thought i was cooking and i kinda think its cute now so it is.

WC: 1976

The classroom was quiet, you were the only one there. Class officially started in 4 minutes. Right as you pulled out your phone to double check the room another person walked in. You assumed she was a student since she was about your age, at least she looked it. When the woman instead walked to the front of the class you realized she was the professor. Shoulder length black hair, with bangs trimmed right to her eyebrows. Wearing a white cowboy hat, which you thought was peculiar.

She removed the hat and set it on the desk, resting her bag in the seat.

She wrote on the board “Robin, overview of women in war” then she leaned against the desk and pulled out her phone.

You looked back at yours, 11:18. Two minutes until class began, and there was now roughly 15 people in the room. You sat in the second row back from the front, and you noticed only one person in the front row. He had a weird beanie on, dark hair, and pierced ears. You tried not to stare, since you knew he could glance back at any second.

“Okay everyone, I am Nico Robin. I’m your professor.” She smiled for the class, and continued, “this class should be very exciting, we get to learn about women like Joan of arc, who really was a delusional farm girl, and Molly Pitcher, a women who fought in the American revolution. The syllabus is online, you will need books by next class. The student store has them for 15 dollars, I won’t take any excuses.”

The professor paused, then opened her bag and pulled out the book, “it looks like this. It’s a small booklet of primary sources, mostly text and images, that we will take a deep dive into. Your grade this semester will be 40 percent exams, 25 percent homework, and finally 35 percent participation. Yes it is a lot, this class is modeled after my time researching, you cannot be a historian or teacher without being able to work as a group and communicate. I know it’s a challenge but try your best.”

A beat.

Law felt sick. He was not a talker, especially to people who were history majors. The men were always blood hungry, the women always poetic. This class would be rough, but if he could find one person bearable enough it might be okay. Sitting in the front seat, he couldn’t glance around to see his peers. While the professor was going on about the school's mandatory syllabus information, he took a quick look behind him, as if checking the clock.

No one was paying attention, and he glanced quickly around the class. There was only one person who looked back at him, meeting his eyes. Of course they looked away immediately, and so did he.

The professor finally finished and gave the students time to “meet their neighbors”. Law turned and found the one student who made eye contact with him.

“I’m Trafalgar Law, I’m a double major in history and biology.” He stated right to the girl, with no excitement in his voice, tone steady.

“My name is Dracule y/n, I’m a history major, and you are insane, Trafalgar.” She had a bit of sarcasm in her tone, which he took offense to. She was the fifth person to tell him that today.

“I’m not insane, I just like history and I want to be a doctor.”

“That’s cool I guess, I’ve never met a stem major I liked though. You guys are all so “history is just memorization and dates”, I can’t stand talking to ‘em.”

Law looked back at her and thought ‘I have never met a history major I liked either’. He decided on saying, “If you ask me historians are basically philosophers, you just think all day and pretend like the world changed.”

She made an obvious frown, putting her hands onto the table with a bit too much force. “Huh?!”

“History majors have two options, teach or research, both are dead end jobs that don’t help people. It’s simple.” He stated nonchalantly, like it was crazy to major in history.

“Well life isn’t all about jobs and helping people. It’s about living?” She looked him dead in the eyes before finishing with, “it’s not like the world collapses when doctors aren’t around.”

“Well it was nice talking, but I’m gonna chat to my other neighbors.” He said with a huff, he didn’t have to talk to you at all, in fact he hoped he wouldn’t have to again.

After about 10 more minutes, professor Robin spoke up again, “okay okay, since we don’t have textbooks yet I decided to make a fun assignment. I’m giving you your first and last handouts, you will need to fill them out before next class. Other than that, please look at the canvas page. Read over the syllabus and take my obligatory syllabus quiz. You are now free from this class.”

You walked out into the hall, and booked it to the student store. You told your only friend and sister, Perona, that you would meet her there.

Law, coincidentally, told Bepo the same thing. Bepo was his only friend, having grown up with the white haired bear.

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

Only 10 minutes after class had dismissed you arrived at the store, already spotting Perona’s pink pigtails.

“perona!” You whisper-screamed in her ear, trying to scare her.

“Ahhh y/n”, she sighed, clearly unaffected, “you know you’ll never scare me. Anyways, what is my cute depressed friend doing on Friday?”

You and her walked into the store, “studying... So I’m busy.” Giving her a quick smile before you two settled in the textbook section.

“You are so coming with me then! I’m going to the mall that’s next to campus, I’m already so bored of our dorm room decorations. If we go to 5below I can get way cuter stuff for us! You need to come since it’s your dorm too, so I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Perona you have really good taste in stuff, you should be fine on your own!” You put some enthusiasm behind your voice, to encourage her.

She frowned back at you, not buying into your typical antics. “If you don’t come then you won’t be leaving all weekend! You need to go outside y/n!”

“Perona!? Hi!” A voice from behind you called out to her, causing you to turn instantly.

“Bepo! What a coincidence! Do you have a picture of the textbook we need for thermodynamics?” Perona said, already stepping towards the bear.

“Of course! I have to be studious this year!”

The two of them found the text book, it costed a whopping $300 dollars, and was written by their professor.

“We can share, right Bepo? That way it’s only 150 dollars?” The both of them had a cloud over their heads as you watched the sad situation unfold. Peronas face was for sure one of desperation.

“Wait is there a digital version? It’s usually cheaper.” You suggested, reaching to pull out the info card.

“Bepo! I’ve been looking.” Whoever said that sounded quite angry, and familiar?

“I’m sorry Law! I saw my classmate and got excited… sorry” Bepo turned to face the man.

“You couldn’t have texted? just once?” Law replied, only just then looking at the two people who were with Bepo.

“Great this guy again.” You said with sarcasm dripping from your voice and turned to Perona, “we should leave, he hates me.”

“I don’t hate you. I don’t even know you.” Law said, pinching his nose.

“Whatever, do you have Bepo’s number Rona?” Calling her by her self appointed nickname always made her happy, right now you were hoping it would get her to leave with you to the history section.

“I don’t actually! Bepo! Here, put your number in!” She said with a smile, being way more friendly than usual. “I’m Perona by the way, how do you know my friend y/n?”

It was a simple question but the way he answered really bugged you, rattling off a “we have a class together”. He was looking down at his phone and didn’t even bother to look up when he answered. Hell he didn’t even bother to introduce himself!

“His name is Trafalgar by the way, we have women in war together.” You had a straight face, conveying how much it bothered you well.

“Awww how wonderful!” Perona had an enthusiastic tone but looked at you with a smirk like no other. “Would you be her friend? I’m the only one she has right now!”

You cursed your friend and her constant medling. She loved to stir the pot, and when you got upset she would always say “you are so cute when you’re mad though!” With her words to Law, he finally looked up.

He opened his mouth to speak, but was instantly interrupted.

“He only had one friend too!” Bepo handed back Perona’s phone, “it’s me!” He said with a big smile.

“He seems like he would have no trouble! My y/n is super awkward and shy!” Perona practically ignored you, as you had started to form words before she interrupted you.

“No no! He’s pretty judgmental so a lot of people stay away from him, he also thinks he’s smarter than everyone!” Bepo replied back, as if they were two parents gossiping about their kids.

“She thinks the same! Maybe they could be friends?” Perona and Bepo look at you and Law.

“I am smarter!” Both you and law said in unison. Immediately looking at each other with frustration.

“Don’t say what I say!” You said to law.

“How would I know what you were going to say? Do you even think?” Law argued back.

“Of course I do! Do you?” You couldn’t think of anything better…

“Good one. Bepo we’re leaving.”

“Rona we are leaving too! At least I don’t constantly speak in contractions…”

Law turned his head so you would hear, “you just said one too!”

You and Perona had already turned the corner, you quickly led her to the history section. You spared her no look, you figured you would talk about it once the two of you got back to the dorm. Once you reached the history section, you squatted down in front of the book you needed and saw there were 3 left. Grabbing one then standing. Just as you were about to go pay for the book, you heard him again.

“Are you following me Dracule? Typical.” He said, with a touch of sarcasm.

“Typical? We both know you don’t have anyone interested enough to follow you. Also, are you even thinking? We are in the same class so of course we would both need the same book.”

“Whatever, I’m getting my book and leaving.” He quickly bent over, grabbed a copy and was gone.

“No comeback!?” You said, just a bit too loud. You wanted him to hear you, so that he knew you knew he couldn’t come up with anything. Feeling a bit triumphant you turned to Perona, who was standing behind you with a smile.

“What now?”

“He’s cute y/n!”

“No chance. He’s mean, and a biology major!”

She scoffed, “there is always an exception to the rule! Like me!”

“Yes Rona, an exception. A single exception. There can’t be two exceptions.”

“Anything could happen! Plus if me and Bepo end up sharing a book you might be forced into hanging out with all of us! Who knows, maybe they also share a dorm!”

You sigh and look at her, she looks so happy at the prospect that you might have a friend, especially one that’s a guy. You settled, your good side winning out. “Fine. I’ll be open to it. Only if he is nicer.”

#trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader #law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #reader insert #eek im happy im finally getting around to posting this stuff #i really hope i finish this swiftly......#this is not beta read btw #forgive me if it has errors......

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gigglesandfreckles-hp · 4 months

Note

I AM HERE FOR THE TEENAGE JILY ANGST

So just to be a little more evil to them can you please do "Can we talk?" and "I think we've all said what we wanted to say." 😈😈😈

lily got her drama moment, so it's james's turn because i am nothing if not fair and magnanimous.

from this prompt list

Lily liked it better when she didn’t know all his secrets, didn’t know there was nowhere in this bloody castle she could hide because he has a map. It’s why she’s only startled, not surprised when she turns the corner headed down toward Potions and runs into him on the fifth floor.

“No,” she says, immediately picking up her pace to walk past him.

His long legs meet her stride easily. “Stop running away from me, Lil. Just—”

“I’m late for Potions.”

“Fuck Potions, Evans. I need to talk to you.”

“It can wait.”

“It can’t,” he insists.

“I don’t want—” But her defence is intercepted by a tight grip on her forearm as he grabs her and tugs her straight out of the main traffic of the corridor, ignoring her protests as he pushes past a tapestry and stops them in the secluded alcove just on the other side.

The jerky movement loosens several strands from her plait, which simply won’t do for Potions. As soon as he releases her arm, she reaches up to pull the elastic from her hair, intending to redo it quickly.

Before she can grab a section of hair, James’s hand darts out, snatching the elastic from her fingers and stuffing it into the front pocket of his trousers.

“What are you—”

“Can we talk?” he asks earnestly, leaning toward her.

He smells good. That annoying boy smell that isn’t something Lily would ever want in a bottle of fragrance for herself, but somehow she knows she wouldn’t mind bathing in it, sleeping next to it, living in a house full of it forever.

She chooses her words carefully. “I think we’ve both said what we wanted to say.”

“When exactly did that happen? Because I seem to remember you disappearing as soon as we stopped—”

“Okay,” she says, putting up a hand between them, because she can’t hear him say it. She can’t handle hearing evidence that what they did last night actually happened, outside of her dreams.

They kissed, actually kissed, and Lily thinks she’s going to black out if she doesn’t put some distance between the two of them right now.

“Okay what?” he presses, stepping closer. “This isn't fair. Don’t shut me out just because—”

“I’m not trying to shut you out,” she promises, feeling overwhelmed by his closeness, his intensity. “I just…I don’t know what happened, okay? It—we were caught up in the moment. And—”

“Are you being serious right now?”

She flushes under the harshness of his tone. “Wh-what?”

“Is that the position you want to take? Because that’s fine, Evans. I’m not going to force you to admit that what happened between us was good and a long bloody time coming at that. Whatever. Be delusional. But don’t—don’t act like we were caught up in the moment. What the fuck is that? I care about you. You know that, Lily, and—”

She shakes her head and steps away from them, her back hitting the wall. “I can’t handle this right now. I just…I can’t, James.”

He watches her silently, his expression a mixture of pain and resignation. Then, with a heavy sigh, he speaks again. “So that’s it?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, quietly.

“Maybe you can act like it didn’t happen…but I can’t. I don’t want to. So if you really…if this is how you feel,” a crease appears across his forehead and Lily wants to reach across and smooth it out more than anything, “then we’re done.”

Lily’s heart lurches in her chest. “What do you—”

“I can’t be your friend anymore, Evans,” he says, sounding so wretched Lily wants to cry. “So I’m going to ask you again. But when we walk out from behind that tapestry, no matter what your answer is—there’s no going backward. I can’t…I can’t do that. It’s killing me.”

Lily's heart feels like it's being squeezed in a vice. She swallows hard, trying to compose herself. "James," she murmurs.

He shuts his eyes tight and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, then opens them and looks down at her. “Can we talk?” he asks again, his voice strained with emotion. “And that means we don’t leave here until we’ve both been honest. I want to be with you, Evans. You know that. Just…" Something a little desperate seeps into his tone. "Don’t you want to be happy together?”

Her lip quivers, and she feels tears threatening to spill over. "I…" she begins, but the words catch in her throat.

“Answer me, Lily."

“James, I can’t,” she whispers, her voice breaking off. “But it’s only—”

James's shoulders slump, and he takes a step back, his gaze dropping from her to the floor for a moment. Without another word, he turns away from her, his footsteps echoing softly on the stone floor as he pushes through the tapestry and moves back into the corridor, leaving Lily alone.

#pls i am begging them to properly communicate #but it's just a bump in the road for them don't worry #they'll kiss and make up i promise #jily #my fic

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paracosmic-murdock · 3 months

Text

i still got love for you

part four: i hope for you

pairing: francesca bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: leaving for bath out of the sudden was the hardest thing you had had to do, not particularly because you had left your parents and home behind, but because your friendship with francesca bridgerton was ripped away from you a sudden summer morning.

five years later, francesca arrived in bath for the season to practice pianoforte with her aunt winnie, and finally, you see her again after thinking you had forever lost her. how much you wanted for your love to live and beat still, how much you wanted for francesca to say so.

warnings/tags: sapphic francesca bridgerton, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, am i gay quiz but make it nineteenth century somehow, smut, minors dni, inspired by an emily dickinson intimate letter to susan hunington dickinson, song: seven (taylor swift)

word count: 3.7K

❁ part one | part two | part three | part five | part six

❁ mila's anthology (main masterlist)

“Susie, will you indeed come home next Saturday, and be my own again, and kiss me as you used to? I hope for you so much, and feel so eager for you, feel that I cannot wait, feel that now I must have you — that the expectation once more to see your face again makes me feel hot and feverish, and my heart beats so fast.” (Excerpt from Open me carefully: Emily Dickinson's intimate letters to Susan Hunington Dickinson by Emily Dickinson)

“That is your favorite breakfast.”

You stopped playing with your fork and looked at him. “I am not hungry.”

He ate the last bite of his dish. “Oh, and why would that be? The last time you ate was for lunch yesterday and it was almost nothing.”

“I do not know. Perhaps I am tragically ill.”

“Clearly,” He scoffed sarcastically. “You miss her.”

“I don't miss anybody, Charles. I just feel unwell.” you stated.

“You, Sister, are a terrible liar.”

“And you, Brother, are delusional.”

He shook his head and stood up, putting the napkin you had embroidered on the table before storming off without any explanation.

You rolled your eyes, drinking your berry tea.

As much as you wanted to deny it, you were pensive because you missed Francesca.

You haven't seen her since dinner a couple of weeks ago, and you couldn't help but feel bad about it.

Three days after that evening, you went to her aunt's home but were told she was not there. You left a message for her: she was invited to join you for tea the next day or whenever she wanted to, for you would be at your home every day.

You canceled quite some plans just in case she went, but she never did. And you were devastated.

It was a lovely evening, and you thought everything went really well. Perhaps it was because you had called her darling. You felt it was proper at the moment, but now, not anymore. Now, in your mind, you have made her feel uncomfortable and lost her forever.

Charles’ mind was known for hardly being made up.

Dilemma was almost his second name, and it was no secret. Always a dilemma, and now wasn't the exception.

He hates to see you upset and hurting. You are his sister, and ever since you were born, he vowed to love you and protect you. And after your parents sent you away, it was his biggest purpose.

Right now, he had no choice but to tell Francesca Bridgerton, in front of him, the reason he was there.

Charles cleared his throat. “I suppose you have an idea as to why I am here.”

“Charles…”

“Frannie, did she do something wrong?”

“No, I just…” She sighed. “I have not been feeling very well lately, that is all.”

“Are you sure?” he questioned, not quite believing her.

“Yes.” She nodded.

“My sister has been punishing herself for your absence, and… it breaks me to see her like this,” he mentioned. Francesca felt her heart break at the thought of you hurting. “Why don't you come for lunch at our home? I shall have the cooks do something you like.”

“Uh, we were invited for lunch at the Maguire's home, I am sorry…” she lied.

Charles sighed. “When can we receive you, then?”

“I do not know.” she said, looking down to her hands.

He stood up. “I really hope you know she is hurting because of your absence. She did those five years, and she has these past weeks. She loves you, and I know you love her too. And no, not in a friendly manner.”

And, just like that, he left.

Francesca sighed and watched him leave, not able to decide what to do. To stop him. To ask him. To do anything.

In truth, the reason Francesca has not visited you in weeks is because she was scared of loving you. Not for being you, but for being a woman.

Her aunt Winnie had asked her if Lord Chadwick was courting her, but she didn't quite know what to say. She just said she did not know, but her aunt was convinced he was.

Understandably so, because no man would just invite a young lady to his home so many times if he didn't have any intention to court her. What she didn't know was that the one interested in her was you. Another lady.

After the implications regarding your brother, Francesca's aunt remarked how important it was for her to marry a gentleman, a good man, wealthy, and with title. The only one Francesca wanted was you.

You, you, you… No one else.

It pained her to know that her actions were affecting you, especially because the last thing she ever wanted was to make you feel bad. She loved you, and she knew that when you love somebody, you want that person to be happy.

But you could never feel fine or happy without Francesca. You couldn't deny that. Nor would she, especially now that you have reunited. And now that she knew that you loved her, too.

In all honesty, you calling her darling was unexpected and spooked her more than she was willing to admit. Maybe because it was a term of endearment and no one had used it on her before, or maybe because you used it, confirming she was your darling. Yours. Oh, how much Francesca longed to be yours.

So she thought about you during the lunch at Chadwick House she was invited to attend but wasn't intending to, during the afternoon she would've spent playing pianoforte instead, and during the evening she was supposed to get ready to sleep but didn't. Her aunt went to sleep, and she did quite the opposite, sneaking to the backyard to get you flowers, and leaving her home for the purpose of finding you.

Francesca did not particularly come up with a plan, so when she saw herself in front of the entrance to Chadwick House without a way to get in, she got worried. However, she didn't have to worry for much longer because Charles opened the door some minutes later.

“Charles!” She flinched and hid her hands behind her back as he suddenly appeared in front of her with a confused frown.

“Francesca?” He grinned. “What are you doing here?”

Francesca shook her head. “I- uh… I came to- nothing! I was just- I am going back.”

“Frannie, with all due respect,” Charles sighed, grabbing her forearm to stop her from leaving. “Shut up. My sister is in her chambers. Third floor, second door to the left.”

“Sorry,” She pouted. “I guess-”

“Lord save me! You two are driving me mad!” he exclaimed as he covered his face with his hands. “Get in there, Francesca, and don't you dare leave before resolving whatever it is that you two have going.”

With that, he left her there and got on the awaiting carriage she had failed to notice before.

Francesca sighed, walking inside the house and following your brother's directions until she reached your door.

She knocked, but received no answer, so she opened the door to find your room empty. Francesca guessed that, perhaps, you had gone out for a walk, so she went downstairs and ended up looking at you from afar.

You were sitting in the swing and looking at the night sky in utter silence, and she almost didn't dare to interrupt you. She, however, had a purpose for her visit and wouldn't let the courage she had gathered go to waste.

Francesca sat silently in the swing beside yours without saying a word.

“Charles, I told you to let me be.” you groaned, looking opposite from 'his' face.

She cleared her throat. “This is not Charles.”

You turned around abruptly to face her.

Dear God.

“Francesca-” you whispered, almost not believing it. “Are you truly here?”

“Yes, I am here,” She smiled, showing you the tulip of an unknown color in the dark. “But, firstly, this is for you.”

You smiled weakly.

At the silence, she spoke. “I, uh- I had to see you.”

“What for?”

“To apologize,” she replied and sighed, getting ready for the speech she had prepared the whole afternoon. “For not coming back after dinner. I… I was scared because you called me darling, and it made me realize that I might not be… alone in these feelings I find impossible to name. It felt real out of the sudden, and I was not prepared for it. I thought about them all those days and reached to a conclusion I was dreading: that I love you. Not like a girl who is fond of her childhood best friend or like a girl who has such dear affection for a sister, no; I love you like one loves the person that is to be their spouse, their love match. I know well enough that this is not something a woman is supposed to feel for another woman, but I do, and I have reasons to believe you do as well. Please, tell me I am not alone in this feeling, for I believe that love could never be as profound as mine for you were it not reciprocated.”

You grabbed the rope of her swing and pulled her close to you. “I love you, my darling. I love you so much that I fear the word love is not enough to grasp all that I feel for you. It is pathetic, the way your proximity makes my whole being combust in yearning; it is alluring, the way your eyes can heal all that chaos when they look into mine. Having you here with me, under the full moon and in a field of violets, is the utmost proof of how sacred this love is. How sacred we must treat it. Being yours is the ultimate purpose of my existence, and I would be beyond grateful to you if you allowed me to honor it by loving you devotedly and cherishing you adoringly.”

Francesca exhaled and hesitated for a single, intrusive second. She, right then and there, kissed your lips softly. There was doubt and insecurity, but you managed to wash it out by kissing her back with a passion she couldn't have even dreamt of.

“Would you like to stay for the night? It is far too late for you to return home by yourself and we do not have another carriage available. I fear Charles will not return until tomorrow.” you proposed, standing up and offering her your hand to do so, too.

Francesca nodded, now standing as well, and staring at your lips.

You smirked, closing the distance promptly.

You did not know how to kiss, but the two of you would certainly learn that night.

Of course there was an extra room, but there was no need for that. Despite the last sleepover being five years ago, there was still this feeling of comfort and intimacy shared between you and her.

“I know that sharing a bed has never been an issue for us,” you began. “But, if you wish, I could have the help bring another bed for you.”

“No!” she exclaimed, regretting the haste and reluctance of her answer. “I mean, no. It is not necessary, for your bed is big enough for the both of us.”

You nodded with a smile. “Would you like for me to get a maid to help you get ready to sleep? I might as well call-”

“No, There should be no need. We could help each other, is that not right?” she answered shyly. You were surprised to hear that, but thought nothing of it, ignoring the warmth taking over your body at the mere idea. “I- well, I- I did not mean it like… if you… if you want to. I do not have a problem. If you do, it is alright if you-”

“Yes, it is alright.” you agreed, approaching her and pointing to the bed with your head. “I had a maid bring a sleeping chemise for you… should you like for me to-?”

She nodded, undoing her coiffure before you got to her. “Yes, I should like for you to help me now.”

Francesca didn't know what was going on in herself. Her words seemed to come out before she could process them and her intentions were rather unclear even to herself.

Now, she was in front of you. Your hesitant hands trembled lightly as you started taking her dress off. Francesca let out a soft gasp when your fingers grazed her skin, noticing your closeness as she leaned closer to you, not creating contact just yet but desiring so, so very anxiously. You started undoing her corset slowly, trying to take in every second of proximity existent between you, the fervid hunger invading the moment.

Francesca let out a shaky breath, leaning toward you and, this time, she was actually resting her weight on you timidly. She whispered your name, almost silently enough for you to not hear.

But you always heard her.

Her head was resting on your shoulder, touching your cheek with her cheekbones. “I love you.”

You kissed her cheek gently and then went to her neck. You left slight bites on her skin and moaned as she pressed herself onto you slightly more.

“I love you, too,” you reminded her, and it felt as if it was the very first time you told her so. “I will never not.”

You kissed her shoulders and put your hands on her hips.

“I think we are…” you whimpered as she intertwined your hands with hers. “We are doing something we most likely should not.”

She exhaled with difficulty. “What would that be?”

“I saw them,” you began. “Anne and Petunia, my maids, they- I saw them doing this.”

“This?”

“Making love.”

Your answer left her in a place between confusion and oblivious understanding. She knew, but also she did not.

“What does it mean?”

“I went for a late night walk in the backyard and heard some noises,” you told her. “Chadwick House is not as big as the Devereaux Manor, so we do not need as much help, nor do we have enough room for more. Some of the help that stays at the house has to share a room, so my two lady maids do. I know where their room is, so, upon hearing the sounds, I peeked through the window in case something had happened. And I saw them… As soon as my shock subsided, I ran back to my chambers, but not without seeing them like we are now. They were kissing and touching each other, nude.”

Francesca frowned. “How do you know what it is called?”

“A few days later, I asked Charles about it, but I never said I had seen them. I told him I had heard it somewhere,” you answered. “He panicked and told me not to speak of such things ever again. Then, he said those are things men and women do after they marry, but that some men do it without marrying and that it was normal, but respectable ladies like me could not do so under any circumstance… So, naturally, I ended up asking Anna about it and blaming it on Charles. She said that it is called making love and that people do it to consummate their marriage. I told her that Charles said some men do, but that ladies like me cannot, so she explained to me that it is said that women lose their worth after doing that and must be valuable for deserving a marriage. Also, we could get pregnant when doing it with a man, but men do not have to worry about themselves being with child; I, then, asked if men did it with men or women with women, and she said it was possible but not well seen at all, so I should not do it unless I love and trust the woman, but that I must be careful and not tell a soul about it because it was a display of love, goodness, and intimacy that deserves to be cherished and not broken by society's discrimination. Anne also said that it is supposed to feel quite pleasurable. That is how I know.”

She nodded, taking a few seconds to think about it and analyze the situation.

“Can we… do that?” Francesca asked, some boldness whose origin she unfortunately ignored.

“Oh,” Your eyes met hers as she turned around. “Well, if you want to… I mean, I want to, but only if you do as well, uh… Do you want to?”

“Yes, I want to make love with you.” She smiled confidently.

“Are you sure?”

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Francesca assured you, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. “Can I take off your gown?”

A soft exhale left your lips at the thought. “You can take all of me, my darling.”

Francesca smiled a little, pressing her forehead to yours. Your noses brushed each other's before you kissed.

And, when it happened, you could only describe it as mystical. With her, everything felt like magic.

You thought, more often than not, that you weren't built for this world. You weren't built for this society because you wanted nothing but her and to be able to dance with her at balls, to just say ‘this is my wife’ to everyone you met, to love her freely.

You weren't built for a society that kept you away from her.

You wanted to be with her like this always, to feel the tip of her fingers brush your skin and cause goosebumps, to stand naked before her and her before you, just like you were now.

“What are we supposed to do now?” she asked.

You shrugged. “Shall we find out?”

She chuckled nervously, feeling like the fire lighting up the room was actually inside of her. Francesca nodded, giving you the needed cue to end the distance between you two and kiss her.

It was hesitant at first. You didn't know what to do with your hands, so you just put her hair behind her ear, deepened the kiss, and then cupped her face. Meanwhile, Francesca freed your hair and rested her hands on your shoulders, not knowing what to do either.

She ended the kiss, looking at you with a glint of need in her shy hazel eyes. She sighed, all her fears leaving her body with that exhale. Her hands went to the back of your neck to pull you close and began kissing there, imitating what you were doing when you helped her undress.

You held her by her waist and her hands traveled your shoulders and her fingers drew burning, irregular shapes on your back. “This feels good.”

“It does.” She smiled against your skin.

In an attempt to get closer, you put your leg between hers and pulled her until your skin was on hers. Which also meant that you were close enough for your thigh to touch her core.

The moan she let out was almost delirious and the way her hips bucked in response caused her thigh to stumble upon you.

Your eyes met, both silently agreeing that what you just did felt, oh, so good.

Francesca swallowed hard and looked down as she bucked her hips to provoke the same feeling to both of you.

“God,” you moaned, holding her tightly against you and moving like she moved. “My bed.”

When you pulled apart to go to the bed, a strange emptiness took over you. It was not only emotional, as if missing each other a bit; it was physical, too. A warm and wet something was left on your thighs as a result of your pleasure, which came as a surprise because neither of you had any idea what any of what you were doing was, but you did know how good it felt.

Once you were finally sitting on your bed, you looked at each other as if asking for permission, but then you realized how absurd it was to ask, to wait, to hesitate, so you kissed, this time hungrily and intensely. The way you clumsily returned to your previous position gave away how much you needed each other.

You were so clumsy and careless, that this time it wasn't your thighs but your cores that met, and you cried out at how terribly delicious that contact felt.

“This… feels so…” Francesca began, not able to come up with the words that could describe how she was feeling, so she just kept moving with you and moaning your name loudly.

“Good?” you panted.

“Better than- than good,” she replied, her breath labored. “Great.”

Hearing her be vocal about this was unexpected to say the least. However, you found it exciting and hot. “How do you feel, Fran?” you encouraged her to speak, craving to hear her say things about this very wonderful moment.

“Great,” she replied, a strange pressure building inside her very being. “This- I like… this.”

You kissed her eagerly, harshly, to then ask. “Do you?”

“Yes…” She nodded, kissing you again as your hands traveled to her hips and then used the contact to guide her to be faster and pull her close enough to apply more pressure.

Francesca broke the kiss, her head falling back and giving you access to her neck. You sucked her skin, beginning to notice how she had some burning red spots on the places your mouth has been to before.

A desperate moan left your lips when a sensation started to form deep inside you, and she was feeling it, too. You could only describe it as if you were running from a great distance to a cliff, and everything you were doing in the earthly world made the inside you run faster and faster until you reached the edge. And there, Francesca was waiting for you to see how you slowed down for a second, only so she could hold your hand and jump with you.

In both the earthly and imaginary world, you moaned her name loudly as you fell off the edge of the cliff, or as you came with her.

She moaned and gasped, and hid her head against your neck to muffle the sounds she was making.

“Do not hold back,” you told her, feeling your orgasm last so very long. “I wish to hear you, please.”

Francesca obeyed you, pressing her forehead to yours and moaning your name against your lips.

It was so innocent, yet so sensual. It felt right, but, oh, so immoral. And carnal. And fascinating. Scandalous, beautiful, mystical, sinful.

You didn't stop until it was too much. Her embrace didn't end, and she wanted anything but.

“I love you.” you whispered, guiding her to lie on the bed with you.

She smiled. “I love you, too.”

“I am so happy that you still had love for me.” You kissed her softly.

“I will always have love for you.” Francesca replied.

You stared at each other in silence. Her hand was on your cheek, caressing it, and yours drew delicate patterns on the soft skin of her hips.

“Can we do this again?” Francesca asked.

You smiled. “Can we?”

“I should like that.”

“Me as well.”

taglist: @swiftholic-13 @kenzieisgone @urmultifandomfan

#francesca bridgerton #francesca bridgerton x reader #francesca bridgerton x fem!reader #francesca bridgerton x you #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine

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cloveroctobers · 2 months

Text

FALSE STARTS — CARMY BERZATTO [Summer Writings]

A/N: Getting down to my final collection to these summer writings…I strongly debated if I wanted to even write for carm this time around, the man is always going through it…not saying that I won’t ever again because I ofc have love for the guy but whew!!! Never giving up on him but—you guys get it? You just have to let some things sink in after watching the seasons…so here’s something possibly short? Knowing me my definition of short is not always reliable kinda like Carmy’s mental state—OOP. Too much?

WARNINGS: Added a OC, another berzatto again to the mix because I can also see Kyle being on the show and I’ve got a soft spot for him as well SORRY! I feel it in my spirit for smile 2 that it’s NOT going to end well but let’s be delusional! Slight reference to that horror movie in here as well, Still x reader based but you just have a name since I didn’t want to write in 2nd POV, along with some background for you and Carmy’s friendship, language, mentions of s**c***e & some spoilers for season three if you’re not caught up yet!

SYNOPSIS: Carmy runs into more than just his past and blood, forever learning what his next steps are, if his head will let him that is.

*GIFS BELONG TO: @emziess + @andrew3garfield !

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

The last thing Carmy expected was to see, Joel Berzatto at the pick up window during the lunch rush. Carmy’s been on autopilot the second week into the grand opening and he was already frustrated with the new hires. They didn’t have what it takes and Carmy didn’t have the patience to teach them, especially when they didn’t put in the effort to learn.

All they cared about was a paycheck.

He couldn’t teach what should have already been known.

Carmy already shocked himself, not blowing a fuse, deciding to just head out back silently with a carton of cigarettes. He vowed at some point he was going to quit these things and faught hard about the stick that was perched in between his lips. He’s pacing along the rocks and dirt on the side of the bear, back of his lighter racking against his fingers as he took a two minute break.

There was no time to make it five.

“Carmen,” a voice greets, making his bright blues turn to the voice.

It’s Joel.

Michelle’s younger brother.

He’s got a bag to go, bunched up underneath his fingers and his badge on his waist glimmers from underneath his earthy toned attire for work. Carmen reminds himself to blink, coming to terms that this is indeed his family—on his father’s side—at his place of business.

“Joel?” Carmen echoes but it’s more of a question.

Joel snickers as there’s still a great distance between the two family members, “yeah I was wondering when I was going to get caught red handed.”

Carmen clears his throat after removing the cigarette from his lips, “you’ve ordered something to go?”

That’s obvious but he’s trying to fill up the silence, which is always so loud even in the city.

Joel scratches at his brow, a small smile playing on his face, “‘Course I did. I was in the area and my partner wanted some other shit, he’s vegan or vegetarian and I knew that would be a disappointment so I snuck over here to get my money’s worth.”

“Yeah?” Carmy’s eyes flick back to the bag, “what’s your poison?”

Joel laughs, “can’t ever go wrong with a classic, am I right?”

Which only meant one thing: Italian Beef with extra peppers, just how he always got it, even when they were younger. Joel was older than Carmy, more around Nat’s age but he always found a way to bring up something to talk about once Michelle, Mikey, and Richie brought the house down with their boisterous voices.

“I’ve mentioned to Sugar that Sam and I can’t wait to try out the dinner menu but it hasn’t been the best time…” Joel hints, almost as if he’s apologizing for not showing his face.

There was tension at the beginning.

Joel was this big detective.

Always the persistent one and trying to solve something. It only made sense that he chose this profession but Joel did piss the family off when he tried to come up with this conspiracy theory that Mikey didn’t kill himself and that someone else pulled the trigger. His perspective? It was probably someone who Mikey bought those painkillers off of and in Joel’s mind, he thought he was doing the family a good service but instead he had his own denial about Mikey’s passing as well.

There’s been two big death’s in Joel’s life that he had to face before with his fiancée who took her own life as well. A psychologist at that. That happened years before Mikey…and Carmy can only imagine how fucked he’s been in the head too and maybe detective work gave him some sort of solace—in a twisted way.

They were family after all and grief is handled in different ways they say!

Carmy picks up on the name referred to and questions, “Sammy? You guys are still together?”

Joel snickers but doesn’t seem offended by any means, “Yeah, can’t seem to get rid of her.”

He jokes but Carmy knows that would be the last thing Joel wanted.

“She always tells me to send her love whenever I do stop by for lunch…we just don’t want to disrupt anything you guys have going on.” Joel admits and that actually makes Carmy frown.

He clenched his eyes shut for a moment with a shake of his head, “she wouldn’t—you guys wouldn’t. You’re both family too…it’s just been a lot.”

“Yeah but at some point I think we’ve got to stop making excuses,” Joel shrugs, “No pressure on our end. You should stop by the house one day, Samora would love to see you. It’s been awhile you know?”

Carmy nods.

It has.

Samora’s been one of Carmy’s oldest friends.

The friendship happened to be one of those, catch you when I catch you type of things, or if seeing someone mutual and he so happened to come up, she always related her love for him. That’s just how they operated, even if was at a distance and there wasn’t any bad blood.

Life went on.

Separately for them.

And she’s apparently been going strong with his blood cousin, Joel, for who knows how long? Carmy can’t believe he’s almost forgot what it felt like to have a friend like her.

“Yeah, I should.” Carmy agrees, “Nat’s got your number right? I’ll have to get it from her and reach out to see what’s best for you guys?”

Joel raised his brows at this.

He didn’t think Carmy would even respond to that. Carmy’s always been the kind of guy that found the nicest corner in the room and chose to stay there, it was what he was comfortable with: seeing all sides of the room and the nearest exit.

“Well Sam’s mostly working out of the house now, business picked back up for her in the last year, thankfully.” Joel answers with an inhale, “I’m the one that’s mostly gone all the time not getting the chance to really live in the house but…whenever you want. We don’t mind pop in’s—usually.”

Carmy nods, “cool—uh? I got to get back in there but I hope you enjoy the sandwich and maybe fucking try something else huh?”

Joel’s always been the sandwich and chips kind of guy. Easy going. Compassionate and soft spoken. Carmy’s only ever saw Joel pissed one time as far as he can remember. Of course when carmy brought up the interest of taking cooking seriously, Joel offered a listening ear and would admit he hardly knew what kind of fancy dishes Carmy was talking about but once he brought out the sketches? Sold! Joel couldn’t be more thrilled to see Carmy finding something to be passionate about.

It took time but he did it.

Joel picks up on Carmy’s teasing tone and points the bag at him, “I don’t tell you how to run your business, Carm. So don’t get in between a man and his favorite hoagie.”

A crooked smile appears on Carmy’s face at that as he slowly starts to retreat, “alright, fair enough.”

“Keep it up, bear.” Joel tells Carm, “beginnings can be rough but everything looks phenomenal…from what I can see anyway.”

Did it feel that way?

Carmy couldn’t tell you.

A week and three months it took for Carmy to show up to the familiar Greystone. It was after the review came in and Carmy was back on mode: disconnect, taking a much needed walk that led him right back to the usual busy area where the home sat; that had history there. He’s not positive how long he’s been standing there, peering up at the picturesque home beyond the fence.

Eventually he works up the nerve to stand at the front door, head just kissing it as he debates about knocking. His stomach feels like an off track dryer machine and his head is telling him that he has no place showing up to this house. Samora wouldn’t want to see him and Joel was just talking back then, never expecting Carmy to take up the invitation.

Carmy’s got the number from Sugar and found out where they stayed. It was the same address of where Sammy grew up, a home from her great grandparents that was passed all the way down to her. Legally she got the greystone since her foster turned adopted siblings weren’t biologically in the family and only one of them seemed to put up a fight about it anyway, only wanting the cash and not caring about how significant the home was.

He remembered that.

And so, he knocks.

He’s heading towards the gate by the time the front door swings open but the sound of the woman calling out his name, stops him in his tracks. He exhaled, dropping his hand from pulling the gate back, lifting his head before turning back to the woman on the stoop.

“It is you! Well don’t just stand there, get up here you little turd.” She’s waving her hands along and Carmy moves.

They’re face to face and it’s been ages.

Both of their eyes traces over one another’s faces but Samora is the first to yank him by the shoulders into her arms. He’s tense but finds himself placing his chin into her own shoulder, shaky hands going to her spine. Samora’s hugs have always been tight but Carmy’s never had a problem with pressure.

Much.

“Damn, I hope I didn’t get paint all on your fresh suit. What’s that? Givenchy?” Samora pokes fun as she playfully flicks the tip of his nose.

Carmy smacks her hand away realizing that she is in fact covered in paint all over her shorts overalls and there’s a dry paint swatch right on her left cheek. A awful chartreuse color, which she always seemed to like the brightest of colors others like to hate on.

In a sense Samora tried to see the good in most things.

“No,” Carmy feels a small smirk appear on his own cheek, “you’re good.”

And she welcomes him inside.

The once old home has been refreshed and Carmy can’t tell you the last time he’s been in here but the changes are evident. The first set of walls were now white, making the short entry way feel bigger and as they both turn to the right towards the living room, the view of the front porch at night feels like many summers ago when they both would sit out there, him on his back, arms tucked behind his head and Samora right beside him cross legged as she stared out towards the traffic lights.

They could sit out there for hours together, comfortable in silence or Carmy listening to Samora curse up a storm when she got confused trying to learn chess with a board her great-grandfather made. A slab of wood with a built in drawer to keep the pieces on the side, it would get stuck sometimes but she always handled with care.

“Carmen Berzatto…can’t believe you came to see little ‘ol me…unless you’re looking for Joel?” Samora says over her shoulder, still waving him along through the dinning room towards the grand kitchen.

He awkwardly stands off to the side in the kitchen while Samora lets out a yawn with a shake of her head before moving forward with searching through the cabinets. “I uh—not necessarily.”

“He’s at work anyway, getting buried into another one of his insane cases that he’s not supposed to tell me about but we all know how I am—I’m going to find out regardless.” Samora places two shot glasses down, noticing that Carmy had moved closer to the island counter now.

He did know actually.

They went to school together, been through a lot of typical high school bullshit together. He always felt like the sidekick, whereas he was the shy and reserved one, Samora had other friends that she didn’t mind putting to the side to hang out with Carmy for. Her response would be whenever Carmy asked why she kicked them to the curb to be around someone boring would be, “I know who my lifelong friends are, surely.”

“Surely,” was always Samora’s word and, “Duh,” happened to be Nat’s.

Sophomore year when Konstantinos “Tino,” Pappas found his next target in Carmy and thought it would be funny to sic his Rottweiler on him one day (he had asthma and could barely run a mile but loved skateboarding) when he had to walk home alone after school one day, he glossed over it, saying that he just tried to hop the fence as a shortcut to get home and got stuck on it instead.

He didn’t mention the dog snatching his backpack, or the nasty nip mark on his lower back, his shirt ripping after it got stuck on the spikes, and colliding face first with a sharp rock, that left a faint knick on his cheek until this day, if you got close enough to see it you would notice. Donna believed Carmy’s lies although she knew Carmy was a more take his time kind of kid but all she wanted to do was get back to her daily cocktail, Nat was concerned but Carmy also brushed her off, saying he was fine, and when Mikey saw the marks, he hammered him with questions, leaving a teenage Carmy to grow sick of his big brother being on his case so he shut him out too.

And what did Mikey Berzatto do?

He went right to a sick Samora to find out what she knew. She had been home for the past three days, down with a fever she caught from her new foster sibling and swore that she would find out. Shook on it with the older Berzatto, who bid his farewells of how good she is to his kid brother, which meant she would always be good people in Mikey’s eyes. And when she did find out? She came right back to school that Monday, noticing the laughter from Tino and his friends down by their locker with a whole camcorder of the incident, which wasn’t far from her’s and Carmy’s.

Carmy lifted his hand to greet the teen but when she was on a mission? It was tunnel vision. She didn’t care if there were teachers at the end of the hall, she snatched the camcorder from one of Tino’s friends, shoving him out of the way, before getting to Tino. A fist met his eye that day and that resulted in a suspension and detention after learning what Tino did.

If you thought Carmy was pissed before about Nat’s overbearing nurturing ways and Mikey bugging him about the marks, then you can only imagine how annoyed he was with Samora after that. That resulted in a stupid fight and with Samora even dating Tino for two whole days—the goal was to break his heart anyway.

Teenagers? Am I right?

“Check this out,” Samora grins as she pours this green liquid into the shot glasses and makes sure to get a piece of cucumber? floating at the top to decorate it with, “I’ve been experimenting and since Joel can’t be my rodent of a taste taster tonight. I present to you chef Carmy, Cold Cucumber green Gazpacho. A chilled soup—as I’m sure you are aware of—since you know how I feel about soups in the summer.”

“…you want me to try this?” Carmy picks up the glass, eyeing it.

Samora dips her head, “surely and if you don’t do that pinched lip thing, then I know it’s trash.”

Carmy flicks his eyes to her with a frown, “what’re you talking about?”

She folds her first four fingers over her thumb, tapping them together, “I don’t know! It’s a thing! You do it when you’re yelling too but at least I know you’re focused so, go on.”

Carmy shakes his head with a slow close of his eyes. He didn’t know what she was talking about at all but he can’t say he was surprised she picked up on this, she was an interior decorator after all.

Detail was always crucial.

“That’s,” Carmy starts after seeing Samora toss her head back not long after himself, “fresh.”

Samora grins, “not bad for a beginner, huh? Easy peasy and quick! Make sure you shout me out if you make this an appetizer or something at the restaurant, will ya?”

“You got it.” Carmy comments making a mental note to do something green next time on the menu, savoring the smooth and freshness with a hint of a zing dish as Samora carefully places the bowl back into the fridge.

Sighing she turns to rest her elbows onto the counter, “Now…bestie Carmy Berzatto…what’s wrong?”

His eyes shift, “N-Nothing. I saw Joel the other day and he brought you up—

“How long ago was that?” She interrupts.

He fires back, “…awhile? Does it matter?”

“No…you know I don’t sweat the small stuff.” She blinks, “Long as I knew you were thriving then that’s all I can wish for but I know my friend and I’m sensing that you’re not okay. You’re avoiding.”

Carmy’s tapping his finger along the side of the glass but Samora doesn’t relax her burning stare, “what—

“Did you see your niece yet?” Samora quizzes and he quickly closes his eyes, running a hand through his hair, she can tell he’s mentally cursing at himself, “she’s a beautiful baby. I had groceries sent to Nat and Pete’s the other day—

“Is this your way of reminding me of how shitty I’ve been at communicating and being present because I don’t need it. I already feel that.”

Samora sticks her tongue in her cheek and pushes back, “No shock there, Carmy. I know you. So what exactly triggered you today that made you finally come here to see me?”

Carmy starts chewing on his lips, eyes not connecting with Samora’s as she tilted her head to the side, waiting. It feels like forever to get an answer so Samora moves around the island, squeezing his shoulder, “let’s go up to the roof, maybe the fresh air and not the fumes of paint will help ease you into it. Thanks for knocking by the way, I may have seen a glimpse of the other side because of it before you got here.”

“What?” Carmy spits out in concern as she pulls at his wrist.

Samora laughs, “if you tell Joel, I’ll have to keep you here and bury you in the front yard.”

Carmy blinks with a roll of his eyes.

They’re on the rooftop, there’s less cars as the night carries on. Carmy’s lost count of how many times the street lights flick from red, yellow, to green and back again. Samora allows carmy to take his time, one leg curled up underneath her with her head thrown back staring up at the twinkle of stars on a hot summer night. There’s barely a breeze but they’re alright.

“I saw the shit stain tonight.”

Samora tossed an arm over her forehead, leaned back in the comfy cushioned blue lounge chair, “yeah? There’s plenty here in chicago, so which one? Don’t tell me you saw the walking jump-scare, Tino?”

“Who?” Carmy presses but Samora can tell he’s not going down that path of the past.

She fans her hand to tell him to continue.

“This guy. One of the best chef’s I worked for in New York, he was at the funeral. There was a funeral for this restaurant, Ever.” Carmy begins to tell his old friend, mindful that she’s been out of the loop.

Samora looks around the night sky and snaps her fingers with a nod of her head, “yeah um, Chelly—mostly Stevie said something about a strict chef you were working with but of course it was vague, which leaves me to believe that you didn’t tell chelly much but she’s great at reading in between the lines much like myself.”

Carmy doesn’t tell her exactly what Chef David said to him a hour ago but tells her what his words made him feel yet again. Small. Incapable. How he has to triple check everything, take charge with no regard for his team that’s supposed to be family, and ultimately that he shouldn’t have a team because he was better off alone. How he should be grateful to be where he is now because of all that Chef David taught him.

“Oh nooooo, Chef charred asshole better be lucky I wasn’t there,” Samora mumbles, “He sounds like a narcissistic dick of a man who gets off on attempting to morph you into him and to me? That doesn’t sound like a brilliant or best of the best chef or even a person! it sounds weak and miserable.”

“It’s what I signed up for.” Carmy almost argues and Samora sits up.

She knows this stems from much more than what he experienced in that restaurant in New York.

“I haven’t been around you in a while but I’ve always been on the sidelines. You accomplished all of these things because you knew you could—you fought. You worked hard and earned this.” Samora reassures, “but these false ideas that you have because of what someone else caused shouldn’t diminish anything that you’ve done and continue to do.”

Carmy pulls out his phone and a pack of chewing gum, “tell that to my brain then. The review is up, Sammy.”

Samora’s eyes meet Carmy’s as he shoves a square piece into his mouth, elbows on his knees as they start to bounce, head dropping just a bit. She reaches for the phone, giving him a side eye since there’s no passcode on it, and is brought right to a webpage.

~THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE~

Reviewed by Ad. Shap

Carmen doesn’t have to look at Samora’s face to take in her reaction. He ultimately knows it’ll be different from what the blue in his brain says. There were many things wrong with the review, mostly wrong than good and that’s why he needed someone from the outside to see before seeing how the crew digested this.

Samora usually does this humming when she’s reading or thinking about something and that doesn’t seem to change. When she’s finished she puts the phone face down on the outdoor table and folds her fingers together as she sits back.

“Well…That was reminiscent to my short lived cookie career.”

Carmy widens his eyes as he sets them back on his friend.

She shields her face instantly, “whoa turn down the opacity on those things will ya?”

“Your cookie business failed.”

“Um, no. Fuck you for that by the way,” Samora glared, “I view it as that wasn’t the way the chapter was meant to be told. I wasn’t heavily devoted to culinary like you. Nobody is that I know of. It was just a hobby for me but you turned your craft into something much more: breathe, sleep—well—you let it consume you pros and cons. Surely these reviews are deeply important because impressions are…tricky but not everything is the way you see it.”

Carmy scoffs with a rub to his lips in annoyance, “what the fuck do you mean it’s not the way I see it? It’s my business and I’ve been backstabbed by a prick I worked with—

“Carmy—

“I can’t be a screw up! I won’t be. I’ve been at this for so long and I’m more than tired and shitty in the head but not enough to throw it all away no matter what some four eyed fucker with a typewriter for a laptop says!” Carmy is on his feet now pacing, “I picked up what Mikey left behind, I put in the time and the effort, I removed parts of myself to be untouchable—

Samora shakes her head, “you’re not though and some part of you knows that. None of us are unbreakable, babe. You just…start over as many times until it feels right.”

“See I don’t—

Carmy swallows the lump in his throat to speak clearly, “that’s the problem, I don’t think I know what feels right or if I ever did. I just know circumstances.”

Samora inhales as she gets to her feet too, “okay then. Take everything that you bottled up and let it out there.” She points over the edge of the balcony, “you have to try to acknowledge the good and let some things go or you’ll forever feel stuck instead of moving forward…but I’m no therapist just a decorator who’s still annoyed that you didn’t reach out to revamp the bear—but that’s another conversation, just a friend who knows a little something something that’ll help.”

“Uh, something something?” Carmy repeats feeling his heart race as Samora waved her painted hand out for Carmy’s tatted one.

He takes her hand as she leads the way to the balcony but not close enough to trigger any vertigo. Carmy always loved the view at Samora’s compared to his own childhood home, which contrasted with no view at all—his bedroom didn’t have any windows, just a closed in space—and he was stuck hearing the common yelling between Donna and Mikey.

Carmy could see the top of a neighbor’s red brick building (thanks to how many floors the greystone had) across the street, along with another home to the left and a row of other houses to the right. Behind the house across the street sat the changing color of lights and beyond that was the liveliness of Chicago in the distance, the farmer’s market he personally loved and had Tina make the runs to, other great eateries, and music spots also weren’t far from Samora’s.

The woman rests a hand right in the center of his chest and Carmy can feel himself panting, “No one ever has to know if you have it all figured out…nobody truly does. Put down some of those dishes bear, out there. Not to hibernate but to be the best version of yourself for you and not what anyone tells you, you should be.”

His eyes burn and he feels like he might let some tears fall some more tonight and he finds that comfort in Samora. Something good from his past that was still present although his version is always different, he doesn’t mind much if she see’s any water that slips from the corners. He knows she won’t say anything about it, and her hand doesn’t move from his chest as she’s almost coaching him how to deal with just a portion of his bullshit.

He couldn’t figure it out for himself.

Yet he was willing to learn.

The scream curdles from the back of his throat, bursting through his lips into the night. He curls into his stomach some, the weight present, the firmness of Samora’s hand on his chest, and his face is hot in the summer air, turning pink as he fights to breathe through his screams. Samora is right there with him, her screams were much more melodic, like she’s had the practice while Carmy is testing it out.

His screams have been buried just like everything else he’s bottled up for years.

After, his throat is raw and voice hoarse as he sniffs, he abruptly turns to Samora, pulling her into another hug. She isn’t tense against him, small laughter falling through her own lips while Carmy hold’s onto her.

Calming down.

“love you,” he manages to get out while Samora scratches his back.

She knows he means it and it’s probably something he needed to hear back as of lately.

Samora sighs, “love you too, turd.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, pulling back to meet her stare and she winks at him.

“…if I didn’t love the both of you, I might be highly concerned at whatever the hell that was.” Joel announces his arrival after a few moments of silence.

His arms are folded but he’s got that Berzatto sly grin on his lips as Carmy slowly lets his hands fall from Samora’s forearms. The shorter haired man makes his way over to the two, hands going to both of their shoulders as he peers back and forth.

“You made it.”

“I—yeah.” Carmy clears his throat with a shake of his head, “I did.”

“Good,” Joel dips his head but it feels more like a question than a comment.

carmy shrugs.

Samora claps her hands gaining both cousins’ attention, “let’s have some of Mora’s Mosa’s as a celebratory of the night—was the work day alright for you, love?”

Joel awkwardly nods his head back and forth as a way to show that it was so-so.

“Works for me!” Samora yells, “to the kitchen!”

“It’s midnight, honey.” Joel tells Samora who twists her lips to the side, “and I’m sure Carmy doesn’t want any of that green shit you had in the fridge.”

Samora gasps, “damn, who knew my boyfriend would be my biggest critic?”

“Oh c’mon, don’t get sensitive on me now!”

She shrugs his hand from her shoulder while Joel’s low lidded eyes sends a look to Carmy who raises his hands in surrender.

In a hoarse tone he replies, “I actually like the gazpacho so…you’re on your own with that one.”

“Woooow, okay.” Joel breathes out a laugh, then bites down on his bottom lip while Carmy moves to grab his phone and fallen gum pack.

Carmy then turns to watch the two bicker like an old married couple but it doesn’t get loud at all. Joel does talk with his hands to get his point across and Carmy can pinpoint the exact moment Samora cracks, the corner of her nose twitches with amusement before Joel tests the waters, gripping her hips to place a tender kiss on her lips, which Samora seems to kiss back before they break apart. Smiles on both of their faces before they turn back to Carmy who’s attempting to sneak off down the steps.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Joel asks, “you think you can just go off when you and I didn’t get any one on one time?”

Carmy taps his phone against his hand, “It’s getting late, don’t want to impose any further.”

Joel rolls his eyes, tossing an arm across Carmy’s shoulder, “shut your trap, you’re home, man.”

And with that Carmy is led back into the house.

He doesn’t think he’s slept long, but when he checks the time on his slowly dying phone, it’s already later into the next morning.

8:37am and he has no idea what this day is going to look like but it’s a Sunday…maybe for once he doesn’t have to. One of the rooms he’s tucked in belonged to one of Samora’s adopted brothers, Jacobi, Carmy guesses since there’s still a large crack against the ceiling thanks to a lighting strike that occurred way back when they were all kids.

He sits up for a while, taking in the view one last time before he starts to make his exit. He’s walking down the path towards the gate and stops as he hears the front door open.

“Don’t be a stranger.” Samora tells him as he turns to face her, the woman hugging her robe to herself as she’s sitting on the front step.

Carmy stretches a small smile on his dry lips, “Never that,” he jokes, “thanks for always being here, Sammy. Dunno if I ever told you that enough…probably not since I’m always in my head but uh—give Joel my thanks too for me this time.”

Samora dips her head and says, “Surely.”

Carmy scoffs as he pulls the gate back before putting his palm up in the air, “see you soon.”

“After while, crocodile.” She kisses her fingertips before waving them at him.

Samora watches Carmy go, hoping he starts putting the pieces together instead of forcing it all apart like he’s always been accustomed to.

When Monday comes along, his hands are resting along the trimming of white counter as he’s slightly shifting his head back and forth at all the greenery situated in front of him.

“Morning Chef,” Marcus greets first as he’s followed in by Tina.

Carmy nods his head in greeting.

Tina’s eyes immediately go to all the herbs and vegetables, “Jeffery, what’s all this?”

“Something new, green, for the menu.” Carmy informs, “I realized we haven’t had family dinner in a while and i want all of your inputs for what we’ll have tonight.”

Tina and Marcus share a glance, having a feeling that this had something to do with the new review. They all briefly talked about it in the group chat over the weekend.

“Okay, cool. We’re gonna just go put our stuff down.” Marcus points and Carmy keeps his eyes on the ingredients.

“Take your time, Chefs.” Carmy calls out after some time as the two have already started making their way towards the lockers.

He closes his eyes, trying to slow the rising beat of his heart, deeply inhaling as he ignores the contrast of oxygen between his two nostrils, that was another problem he’s gotten used to, his eyes open just in time to meet the green again as the back doors swing open, revealing the rest of his team gradually.

Carmy had work to do and he’s never been afraid of hard work.

☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ☯︎.☘︎ ݁˖˚ ༘

Continue with my summer anthology writings & prompts here.

#Spotify #queued #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear season 3 #the bear s3 #Carmen berzatto #Carmen carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto #Carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x oc #jeremy allen white #kyle gallner #smile movie #smile joel #summer writings

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