#and i will hold on to the memories i made with taylor and all the swifties i met and interacted with | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taegularities · 5 months

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colour me in: blooming | jjk (m)

Summary: You're the flower blossoming in Jungkook's living room, no matter how relentless the rain. And you're the sun he tirelessly orbits — warm as a home.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; hints of angst, fluff overload, suggestive ➳ warnings: full jk pov!, fluff fluff fluff, but also crying, bits of insecurities, mommy and daddy issues, their friendddsss <3, oc's favourite blanket smells like him <3, his feelings for her are consuming him in a gorgeous way 🥺, grocery shopping 🍏 and then a housewarming party, jk chocolate chip nips appreciation (oc pinches them lol), horniness, implied sex + implied boner, sexual tension, flirting and teasing and bickering, yearning, convos about their relationship/life, cooking together hehe, jk is so… jk, kissing/making out, the ending ♡ ➳ word count: 15.6k ➳ a/n: domesticity is my favourite city and i never wanna leave lol. i've genuinely been enjoying fluff more than i ever thought i would. this chapter made me so damn happy and i hope it has the same effect on you guys, too <3 let me know how you liked it; feedback is always appreciated 🥺 also, there are lil sub-headings to avoid confusion with the timeline!! enjoy!! 🤍 ➳ a/n2: even though i am a tiny bit late… happy birthday @jkaxl. love you so much, axelle <3 ➳ listen to: daylight by taylor swift (ty anon <3) | full collaborative playlist 🤍

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

”Are you happy?”

“I’m… I’m adjusting to it all. It’s new. But so far I feel— relieved.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I’m sorry I didn’t encourage that feeling earlier. But… you know. You found your way on your own, and somehow, I find that just as remarkable. If not so much more.”

“Thank you.”

Silence breaks the dialogue, but there are still shreds of unspoken words he’s not letting out yet. Right on the tip of his tongue, resting quietly; so you wait. Let your weary gaze slump to your lap, blinking until you hear a rustle and a—

“Do you want to come over sometime?”

You don’t know.

So you respond in just that uncertainty, “Maybe at some point? When it’s… not so overwhelming anymore.”

“I understand. Hey,” another break in his speech, “I’m proud of you.”

Your heart suspends for a fraction of a moment, but you feel the seething, searing pain. Fresh, clumping up your throat.

“…Thank you.”

THE SUNDAY AFTER THE PRESS CONFERENCE

When Jungkook locks the door, the apartment is quiet, but the living room light still glowing.

Still fired up and hot, the cool back of his hand pats his warm neck and cheek. Your name threatens to tumble off his tongue, but an oddly calm feeling advises against it. And as he carries his bag into the living room, setting it down next to a big flower pot you so wanted, he sees why.

Because you’re curled up on the couch, temple against the back of it, legs pulled in. Your favourite blanket — that you swear constantly smells like him — is draped half over you, falling off one of your shoulders.

You’re sound asleep.

Jungkook recognises the pout even from afar; lets his eyes drift from your face to the hand peeking out of the blanket. Brushing a piece of paper that is holding on for dear life, attempting not to slip off your lap.

What if he never moved? If he kept staring?

Back in college, one of his dearest professors used to say, “You know it’s art when even blinking feels like a waste of time. You don’t want to spend a second not looking at it.”

That very semester is still a major component of Jungkook’s memory. Ever since, he’s seen a handful and a dozen and a hundred pieces that matched the words once uttered.

Just, never as much as today.

The sky has obscured since he left two hours ago — he wonders how fast that time passed for you. Either way, he reckons you didn’t rest until your body forced you to. Because it’s not anywhere near bedtime; but the changes in your life constantly add to your exhaustion.

He wanted to help. He did all morning before you sent him away, arguing that, “You’re already doing too much. And you hate paperwork anyway!”

To which he expressed, “But I don’t hate you or having you here!”

“Just go!” You reached to his left nipple, poking it, and he, wearing a frisky smirk, instinctively threw a protective hand over it. “The muscles demand your attention desperately. Just don’t look at other girls’ butts, ‘kay?”

He chuckled.

You made it sound like a life-altering goodbye to a year-long journey instead of a brief trip to the gym. He nodded solemnly, nearly saluting as he agreed, “You’re right. Gonna make sure I’m able to crush you extra hard.”

But it seems you crushed and knocked yourself out well enough. And that after he sent out various emails with you, drafting and crafting a battle plan, googling salient issues and their solutions, and writing down lists of everything still left to do before you can actually move in.

The two of you are lucky the landlord is laid-back. Usually, they don’t let anyone move in so quickly; demand a couple months. And you’ll already be settling here officially the very next.

Not that it makes any difference.

You already spend your dusks and dawns here, clinging, reluctant to go home. And he won’t tell you to; he’d be a fool to. Plus, he hates his bed cold.

Jungkook’s steps are slow, muscles painful to the touch. He sweeps his tresses back as he nears your slumbering, balled up form, soon pressing a hand into the arm of the couch. Suppressing a groan, he leans in; frees your closed eye from a lock before he plants a kiss next to it.

You stir with the softest flutter of your eyelashes, just a teeny tiny bit.

God. You tilt his world off its axis.

“Baby,” he whispers.

It must be pulling you out of the remnants of your doze, because your muscles awaken, corners of your lips twitching. The movement of your legs finally pushes the paper off the blanket, and Jungkook hurries to catch it before it can drift to the floor; places it on the table.

He kneels; and for the briefest, smallest moments, you flinch when your pupils eventually align with his. Then, relaxation floods you anew, and you grip the blanket, sliding it back over you — only for it to glide down again.

You smile — a tired beam, accompanied by a sigh. Not quite wide, because you’re not fully there yet, but still so genuine. Stretching a little, you murmur, “You’re back.”

“And you’re still working,” he scolds, albeit cushioning his words by bringing a fingertip to your jaw. Flicking affectionately, softly. “Did you eat?”

“Mhmmm. But it’s—” Your hand taps for something, moving under the blanket; and a second later, you’re lighting up your phone, squinting at it. “It’s not late. Gonna eat with you again. I’m not that tired anymore.”

As if on cue, you yawn, tears of weariness collecting. You interrupt it with a gentle snicker and promise, “I mean it.”

The lopsided smile emerges on his features quickly. The drowsy, vulnerable tone in your voice caresses his heart like a gust… but the meaning behind it doesn’t pass by him so fast.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” he repeats for the fifth time today alone; it’s become a constant habit. A reminder, like clockwork. “The body knows when you do.”

“No. I feel great.”

“Just. Be nice to yourself, munchkin.”

“I am,” you defend, attempting to stress the verb, but not quite getting there, “I am. Don’t worry so much.”

An impossible demand; but how would he explain it to you?

Despite the shake of his head, he still gives in, “Okay. I’ll shower and be back in a sec, yeah?”

He waits for your confirmation until you hum in unintelligible agreement, moving back in to plant a kiss on your forehead. Rushes to the shower, washes off today’s effort.

Wet hair strands pushed back, he finds you shuffling and organising the papers you read and filled in today, placing them neatly in the middle of the table. You look more awake now, delivering a content smile before heading to the kitchen with him.

Only, your mind might not be entirely unfogged yet — because your movements are slow. Different from how he handles the stir fry that the two of you cooked for lunch together.

You were proud of your creation — told Jungkook how you’re still far from the skills he possesses, but not bad to start with and improving every day. Seasoning better, understanding how to cut faster without hurting yourself in the process.

It’s lovely, watching the contentment spread in your eyes.

Yet, Jungkook always makes sure to stand close to your back, hands lifted, persistently ready to salvage the situation if need be.

But right now, judging from your clearly burdened brain, he bestowed a relatively simple task upon you. And you look so cute doing it — bun all messy, shoulders slumped, sporting (after stealing) his joggers since they’re so ridiculously comfortable, so get your own.

He side-eyes you every now and then, forbearing a chuckle; but when your lower lip juts in concentration, he can’t help but sling an arm around your waist. The jug containing the iced tea shakes, and you hold the glass carefully, voicing a little, “Oh— I… Kook.”

You’re wide-eyed and caught off guard; blinking when he tilts his head and leaves a kiss under your ear.

You raise your shoulder at the tickling sensation, and when you call his name again, your voice is reprimanding. But he could pick out the endearment even in his sleep.

That’s how it goes every hour of the day; sweet and new ever since you started frequenting his place even more often than before.

Something has occurred since the press conference. Two days only — but the universe has changed. Maybe it has expanded faster than ever and birthed a couple billion more stars, made even the nights brighter. He doesn’t know.

All he does recognise is that unnamed, newfound feeling spreading in his chest, and he’s been unblurring it. Bit by bit. Letting it take on a form that will soon consume him. He’s sure.

And soon, there’ll be a fitting word and definition matching this phenomenon, too.

It’s triggered by even the smallest things.

Like by the sound of your steps when you walk through the apartment. Or by the way you hum your favourite song all the time, unconsciously; then singing the line you hold dearest to your heart before resuming to the hum.

Trust in me when I say…

Or even… by how you’re facing him an hour later, satiated and cross-legged on the bed as you finish up today’s work.

You’ll have to notify the bank and whatnot of your move soon, so you need to brainstorm the relevant institutions that the new address and information will go to. It shouldn’t take too long; you’re diligent, so you’ll just be noting down all numbers next to the places you need to contact and then crash.

Jungkook soon takes over that task, lips moving as he reads the words, writes them down. And amidst the end-of-the-day chore, you crane your neck to read, and tell him, “You have such pretty handwriting.”

“So do you. I didn’t know you made circles over your lower case I’s,” he looks closer to where you scribbled, tapping the pen against a letter, “and awwh. The curves of the T’s!”

You giggle before you add, “I’ve heard a pretty handwriting symbolises inner beauty, by the way.”

“Ohh, so we’re both beautiful.”

“No doubt. We need to take more pictures… we look great together.”

That’s what’s been filling the hours of these days, too, Jungkook supposes. The airy, light atmosphere within the four walls he’s come to share with you. Laughter and shared glances, despite the stack awaiting you — because it signifies far more than paperwork.

Which is why it surprises him when a subtle switch occurs, suddenly and unannounced.

When he looks at your fingers lifting a paper, he can’t say what you’re seeing, but your ardour falters a little. Crooning dying, expression not matching the smile on the pictures you spoke of.

Delicately, you trace the edges of the document before putting it back down, aligning it with the rest of the pile. Pushing the whole thing to the side, you sigh, and he, a silent observer up to this moment, asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Hm?”

“You’re thinking about something. And I don’t like it when you’re quiet like this.”

“Oh… It’s nothing.” The shrug is subtle and unconvincing, and the tight shutting of your lips so telling to him. He senses the tension before you finally reveal, “Dad called today. And…” He waits; another shrug. “It’s nothing. He just asked how I was holding up. And that he’s sorry things had to escalate on Friday.”

Ah. Odd.

Jungkook would never say it to you: Because he has never been one to talk families down, sever a bond by voicing his opinion, even if the relationship’s already hanging by a thread. No… he’d never say it to you.

But.

There’s a dull realisation in the back of his mind; and it evokes quiet anger in him. That… there was always a potential anchor inhabiting the same house as you, but never serving as one.

Hidden behind your mother’s back, letting it all pass — probably for you to build character.

Jungkook has always assumed that his dad did just that, too. Throwing him into the world without support, letting a seemingly irresponsible teenager, and then young adult, experience hardships in order to learn how to deal with them.

In contrast to your father, his dad wouldn’t apologise to him… yet, in the end, morally and emotionally, both your families fucked up big time.

“Oh…”

You nod, elaborating, “He wanted to know if I was going to visit him. But I need a bit of time.”

Right… thinking about it, you haven’t seen your father in a while. And your mother hasn’t blown up your phone since Friday evening — when you came out of the glass building, with equally glassy yet hopeful eyes.

You truly must have let off steam in there for her to back away.

“Is that why you were saying you’ll be rushing to the house after work?”

Because as far as he recalls, you’ve been talking about gathering your stuff immediately after working hours — or on Saturday mornings. Never any other time. Because you know they won’t be at home then.

“Yeah,” you confirm, “I feel horrible neglecting him like that, because he seems to be glad that I’m happy, but…”

Your lips point downward; you clear your throat, but it doesn’t hide the tremble in your voice, “I just wish he’d defended me sometimes. Dunno. Maybe he did and I just don’t know about it? And it never worked? It’s what I like to think.”

God…

“Because,” you continue your vent, “he was strict but not like her, and… Sometimes he did recognise bullshit when he saw it. I’d hear them talk and he wouldn’t always see eye to eye with her. But a bit more open support would’ve been cool, you know?”

Shit, how it angers Jungkook.

The knot in your throat; how you avert his gaze; the looming tears. It all angers him.

He moves his hand to your knee, keeping his voice and heart steady for you. Simply uttering, “Baby…”

“And… and then today he suddenly seemed… I don’t know.” You take a deep breath, shaking your head. Your blinking fastens, and you vehemently dodge Jungkook’s eyes. “I dunno how casually he said it, but he told me he was proud.”

The way you emphasise the word… as if it’s a stranger to you, like you’re trying it out…

Jungkook sighs, heart and chest heavy, muttering so kindly—

“Oh, sweetheart… Ah, come here—”

His palm shoves the papers aside some more, uncaring, and brings you closer to his body. Yearning for your embrace, he shifts with you until your legs wrap around each other. Fingers slither to your chin to raise it, and then pinch your cheek adoringly.

The bedroom light falls into your sparkling eyes, shiny with the dampness. You’re not crying, but you sniffle for a moment.

“Of course he is,” he whispers, keeping your face upright, “what’s there not to be proud of? You’re so fucking cool.”

“…You think?”

“Of course I do,” he repeats, “you’re so inspiring and smart and funny and awesome. I’m the proudest of you, in fact.”

The heat increases beneath his palms as your cheek smoulders, pupils promptly softening. As if the outline of your irises is blurring, relinquishing the harder, unwanted emotions.

“I could probably live with just that,” you respond, managing a tender laugh and mixing it with your sniffles. “But…”

But perhaps, the heavy heart won’t get entirely lighter just yet. And Jungkook’s turns half blue at the same time as yours.

“I wish my mom could react the same way instead of being so… stubborn. I mean, it’s a good thing that I want to stand on my own two feet! And aside from work — she also saw me in the summer, and she knew how I felt without you. She sees how I feel now with you, too, and yet.”

You puff out some air, as if you’d been dying to rant; and he imitates the release of a quiet breath, but for wholly other reasons.

Because…

Along with the melancholy drenching your voice, the guilt shoots an arrow to his heart. Guilty about this damn summer; about the days he nearly gave up on you. If he could encase your fractured soul in a quick cure…

“I’m sorry she keeps hurting you, baby. And… I’m sorry you cried. Being sad over a loser like me was the last thing you needed, so…”

He’s half joking; lifting the corner of his lips. You seem to know, too, because you match his smile — still pledging, “Being sad sucked, but… you’re right here now and. I do need you.”

It’s so easy for you to tinge his entire being in a bright pink. Because somewhere in the depths of his mind, he admits that he wanted to hear this. That he wants you to need him as much as he needs you.

“And I’m right here to stay,” he promises. “Even if she doesn’t. Okay?”

“Yeah… yeah. But maybe someday she can be proud, too.”

It’s fucking you up more than he thought. Probably more than you thought.

“I’m sure,” he guarantees, “some people accept their mindsets as the only truth, angel, but one day she’ll come around.” You only nod. So he adds, “I’ll fix this with you.”

“Fix it?”

“The issues you deal with. And the ones I deal with. You and I together, okay?”

Your motions are slow. The nod is barely one; maybe because his hands refuse to establish yet another distance to your skin. And maybe because you’ve tired yourself out once and for all. The slight slouch is telling; your body needs some rest.

Enough with the papers.

“You know… somehow, this excites me,” he says. The grin emerging confuses you for a while; the flicker in your eyes is as delightful as the moment. “Pulling out all the stops and making things better with you, I mean. I wouldn’t wanna do it with anyone else.”

And he’d know. Because if he’d been comfortable enough, he would’ve long ago; he had the chance to. Yet, the courage never surfaced — until with you.

His touch drops from your face to the side of your neck, shaking you gently before he says, “You excite me all the time.”

Shouldn’t be news to you — bearing his unceasing kisses and everlasting words in mind, his bliss is difficult to miss. There’s barely any containing it around you.

And maybe you know what he means; because judging from your dreamy smile, you can’t seem to muster any self-control either. Feeling the joy bubbling, growing, simmering in the middle of your stomach until it explodes and you—

Wrap your arms around his neck abruptly. Attacking him until balance abandons him, falling back onto the bed before you land on top of him. The hug is crushing, your body pushing into his with every sliver of fondness you can summon.

He could say something. Blurt more admissions dipped in honey. But he doesn’t question it; doesn’t comment on it. Only relishes the silence and your warm cheek against his chest, cuddling in.

And sighs in contentment.

A WEEK LATER

You’re messing up the structured system he established for himself.

The groceries are scattered in the cart; instead of playing Tetris with them, as he usually does, you’re piling them up randomly, unaware of the mess.

Jungkook doesn’t have the heart to tell you that the pack of eggs isn’t supposed to be balancing on top of other products like this. Because holy shit, you are buzzing. Not because you don’t know how to grocery shop, but because of the conversation this morning.

”I've got a whole list in my head. We’ll need a shit ton to make this work tonight.”

You were taming your hair as you listened; watching your reflection follow your movements — and as he readied himself for the day, Jungkook watched from afar.

You’d decided that for now, a week was enough to mourn the loss of whatever familial bonds could’ve been. Just last night you told him that starting this new life means an opportunity to gradually leave your sorrow behind, even if it takes some time.

And in celebration of the new arc you’re so joyfully approaching, you’d decided to host a housewarming of some sorts.

Jungkook’s friends already know his place; but the pronoun has changed. This time, you want them to step into your apartment, too.

Securing a hair strand with a clip, you asked, “Do we have it all here?”

“Not everything. Gotta go grocery shopping later.”

“Ohhh…”

Your fingers floated to the edge of the wash basin. You held it in your grip, leaning over it a little, staring into your own eyes quietly. He checked with another step closer to the bathroom, glimpsing at the expression in the mirror.

Calm, but thinking.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling his jeans’ zipper close.

“Uhh. Do you need help?”

“You should rest. You’re already doing so m—”

“No, no, I mean…” You let the sink go, folding your fingers. Inhaling for just a moment when your eyes fell on his bare torso. “I want to go grocery shopping with you. It’s Saturday and I have nothing to do until tonight. So… Please don’t go without me?”

The big eyes and saccharine question went straight to his heart; like one of Cupid’s pointy, sharp arrows targeting the exact middle of the organ. What else could he have done other than breaking into a breathy laugh — wide grin building a lively start to the morning.

“Of course. I’ll wait until you’re ready then.”

You raised a triumphant, tight fist, and he shook his head in delight. Diminished the distance between your bodies, a hand pressing into the back of your head before pulling you to his lips and placing a kiss to your forehead. Right before—

“Hey— ouch?”

It didn’t hurt; but he still felt the fingers pinching his tiny nipples — and heard your cheeky, “Why are they always hard? And why are you always shirtless, Jeon?”

He didn’t argue that changing into outdoor clothes didn’t count. Instead, the bright golden light you cast in his mind distracted him, taking him back.

You’d said that to him before; everything has changed since then.

“Why are you smiling like this?” you ask, holding a pack of four yellow apples in one hand, red ones in the other.

“Hm?” Jungkook rubs a hand over his cheek, feeling the glee in his countenance before flattening the dimples. “It’s nothing. I’m just liking how much fun you’re having.”

“I am! But most of all because I can’t wait to cook with you today.”

Your words instantly conjure pictures of a potential evening; idyllic ones mixing with utter chaos. Rushing and cutting and serving — but for one of the very first times together. Only milestones ahead.

A higher pitched gushing threatens to fall out of Jungkook, right here in the fruit aisle. But instead, you raise your hands again, asking, “Which ones?”

“Hmmm… neither. Let’s get the green ones.”

You let your arms fall, a finger pointing towards him, and say, “Ohhh. Good call.”

And then you proceed to complicate the cart labyrinth again. What a savagery. Jungkook waits until you’ve turned around and works on reorganising again, following his system. Then, he thinks — this could be draining, but it’s not.

Because you keep each other entertained. And neither of you bothers about the gapes you receive.

Not when he leans over the cart, shoving it in teeny tiny steps; continuing when he realises it makes you laugh.

Or, when you cheer once you find something the two of you like that nobody else enjoys; accompanied by exclaimed Ohhhhs and Haaas. And not as you argue when you find something to disagree about.

It seems that you do not dig dates, and he, the friendly omnivore, takes playful offence in that. He teases you across half the supermarket until you turn the tables, picking up an eggplant and interrupting him with a,

“Look! This is you.”

The roll of his eyes only veils his amusement a little, he’s sure. Because your enthusiasm remains steady, including the impish pull of his beige Supreme beanie over his eyes and a kiss to his cheek that paints the spot in a rosy dust.

Pointing to a glass of honey, Jungkook soon fights back, “And this is you.”

“…This is way too sweet and I do not know how to counter it.”

“Romance tends to make people speechless, darling.”

Your expression resembles an ellipsis; whether you’re out of answers or overwhelmingly affected by the selection of his words, he doesn’t know. He knows he’d short circuit if you ever said that to him.

“Fair,” is what you settle on, though, “wouldn’t I know what brain outages your romantic ass causes.”

You’re the model definition of a cheesy, movie-esque couple. Taehyung and Eun differ from the nature the two of you showcase; they already threatened to bring paper bags in case Jungkook and you overdo it tonight.

Can’t blame them. The world is certainly pink-tinted when you bicker and jest at the register; or when you hurry through an Ikea — courtesy of your last minute plan to buy plants — to make it home and cook in time.

Just this morning, you were daydreaming about the concept of furniture retailers and how such shops allow building a home with the most special person.

And then, as if wanting to clarify your sentiments, you turned in the car, facing him as you struggled with the belt, just to say, “Which is you for me. I’m building a home with you.”

Jungkook’s legs still melt into a puddle whenever he remembers the softness in your words, and the puppy gaze you threw as you finally leaned back in your seat.

Which is why it’s such a shame that the clock is ticking so relentlessly.

Because your initial elation turns into disapproval only for today as you wade through the labyrinthine, time-consuming design the store is so popular for. Trying to keep up with Jungkook’s pace and hastening across the rooms.

And even then, neither of your laughter ceases; you turn the most stressful situations into deep solace. The pressure soon gives way to a calm satisfaction the moment your apartment door opens.

You set up the few plants you brought; some under the window, some on the desk in the bedroom, right next to the Beauty and the Beast rose, and a jade plant in the living room. For good luck, you said.

And then, after resting for five minutes and abandoning all further breaks, you start work in the kitchen. Which proves as cooperative as he thought — that is, until you get into a friendly argument about whether to do the dishes now or later.

“One of us keeps cooking. The other washes up what we don’t need anymore,” Jungkook explains, repeating it over and over.

To which you keep defending, “Or. One cooks one dish. The other handles the second. And we finish cooking faster and then do the dishes together.”

His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, and he whines, “It won’t make much of a difference!”

“Well, if it doesn’t, then we could do either!”

“BUT… it might get crowded if we work at the stove at the same time, babe—”

“You just don’t trust me with th—”

“Keep yelling at me like that, and—” Jungkook interjects, and you wince a tiny bit; but he continues a mere, barely lasting moment later, “and I swear I’ll kiss you.”

Beat of silence. Your eyebrows are still furrowed. And then, amidst the agitation, you erupt into laughter. Blend it with the chortle he can’t suppress, either.

To Jungkook, the sound is akin to a song — and he could spin the record all day long.

Spoiler warning — you do not kiss. But the lively chuckles and free-spirited conversations dye the atmosphere and flavour it. Its sweetness feels like a feathery kiss, too.

And whether it’s that very unlimited sense of familiarity, gradually growing, or your unwavering teamwork at last — you’re surprised when the late afternoon transforms into an early evening, a dimly blue, cloudy sky already changing into different shades of grey.

Time passed fast; but the hour-hand on the clock still hasn’t quite moved to where you’re waiting for it to settle. Because back in the living room, you’re still an hour early. Your guests are invited for around six, but you can’t say when they’ll actually show up.

Seems you wrapped up work at a convenient time. Better now than late.

You kiss your teeth in the middle of the room, scanning it for something to do. It’s clean; pretty. Plants set up, table wiped, cushions neatly set on the couch. So you remark, “We were so stressed, I didn’t think we’d be finished already.”

Jungkook, already plummeting onto the far end of the couch, pats the spot next to him, saying, “That’s good. Gives us a bit of time to relax. Anything you wanna do?”

But you don’t sit down yet. You watch your manspreading boyfriend lean back, big inked hand wrapping around the remote control. You look at the open button of his shirt, and the singular hair strands; the side parting. The mole under his lips and the big eyes.

He just doesn’t notice it until the lack of a response continues.

“Huh?” he voices again, finger stopping over the power button before his eyes flit back to you.

You look deep in emotions and distracted; if he could guess, then even… ferociously yearning. He waits with a dancing heart until you admit boldly, “There’s plenty I can think of that I wanna do right now.”

You fold your hands behind your back, chest out a little, legs crossing. You curl your lower lip in, nibbling at it. It affects him, and you know. He sucks in air, a hand on his thigh. Blinking at you, and then poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.

He leaves out a puff of a tiny laugh, shaking his head a bit. Nearly succumbing to the thought that…

Perhaps there’s an activity you can indulge in before they come, right—

Wrong.

Jungkook, no matter how tempted, throws another glance at the clock, and argues, “Stop thinking of eggplants. They’ll probably be here soon, so your smooth-talking is not allowed to work!”

Your body relaxes, back in its prior position; you pout for a second. “Fine. Then I’ll get dressed before anything else.”

Jungkook sighs in relief — close. Way too close. Tonight might just stretch his jeans if you keep this up; his blood is already abandoning his brain and putting its attention elsewhere.

But you’re well-mannered in the company of guests, right?

Only one way to find out — an hour to go.

Jungkook heaves his body off the couch merely ten minutes later.

And maybe even that was too early.

Maybe he should’ve waited for you to trudge out of the bedroom; or should’ve gotten his clothes and changed somewhere else. Because when he follows your steps to find a new attire for himself, too, you’re sitting at the very edge of the bed, dress already on.

It’s not too posh; rather casual. A green cotton one, pulled up to your hip because you’re dragging transparent tights over your legs. A patch of your thighs is still visible; part of your ass on display where your panties don’t reach. Skin far too empty without his kiss on it.

He doesn’t know how you do it; but within a moment, you elicit a plethora of emotions in him. Burning desire; comfortable warmth; cosy affection. You look so cuddled in in that autumn dress.

Pretty. So gorgeous; you’ll drive him insane.

But the craze doesn’t manifest in hunger this time, but gathers in a single breath, let out in a sigh. Which… makes you recoil. Your hand briefly bolts to your chest, eyes rolling, head shaking. You murmur a quiet, “Babe…” before resuming the task.

Jungkook watches as you lift your body to pull your tights over your ass and the dress back into place, and then reaches out a palm to you; urging yours to settle in it.

Still trapped in a cube of daydreams, he tugs you in until your grace radiates toward him, and then tells you—

“My baby is the prettiest ever. Ever, ever.”

You take his fawning with glowing cheeks, smile so unbelievably worth being alive as you answer, “Your baby isn’t sure if she deserves this so suddenly, but… thankful either way.”

Your voice is an endearing mix of soft and enthusiastic. The combination that breathes life into a room. You’re so…

“God,” he says, squeezing your hand, lifting his other fingers to touch the hem of your dress. Fixing it albeit already perfectly sitting. Then looks up; eyes dropping to your lips. “Maybe you were right. Want to kiss you stupid right now.”

And he would; he wouldn’t hesitate if you didn’t move a palm to his face, pressing a thumb to his plush mouth. Telling him, “Nope, too late. The make up wasn’t easy to do. And dark lipstick is hard to remove.”

Fuck, not when he’s kissing it off…

“I…” Gulp. “Fine, princess.” He removes your hand from his face, towing you back into the living room. “Then, what do we do now? Movie?”

“Nah… It’s so hard to stop watching. Gonna kick them out again if we start now. What about… hm.”

Your eyes dart across the room, and Jungkook takes the moment to suggest, “Or we could have some soju already? Or wine, beer, whatever?”

“Or…”

You wait. Jungkook follows your gaze to the back of the room, surprised when it falls on a peeking canvas behind another big plant pot. Oh — that’s still there. He never took it out, and neither did you. Protecting his privacy, probably.

But perhaps it’s lighting a bulb over your head, because you soon ask, “Or. Wanna give me a house tour?”

“A house tour? Don’t you know every corner already?”

“Yeah but,” you shrug, rounding the couch with him in tow, “I wasn’t always here. You organised the place the way you wanted to when you moved in, so you’d know it better. Like…” You point to the turned painting, “What’s that?”

“That’s… Remember the drawing I had in my notebook? Of Gureum?”

Quite a while ago. You visited him for the first time in Namjoon’s studio back then; recalled it at the exhibit, too. Crazy how sentiments have changed. From a silly play-pretend game to damaged souls to this…

You nod.

“Yeah so,” he continues, “I painted him on a bigger surface.”

Your eyes shoot open, genuine interest in them. “Oh? Can I see?”

“Of course.”

It’s not his best work, honestly; but it is close to his heart. A piece he still wants to improve and feature in his own exhibit once it rolls around. The colouring process will be interesting; it’s barely an outline yet.

But you seem to perceive it with utter fascination and sheer joy. Because the moment Jungkook heaves the canvas up, turning it for you to see, your chin drops. You gasp, mumbling under your breath, “You’re kidding!”

“…Do you like it?”

“It’s so cute! This is…” You lean in, taking in every detail; commenting on it. “He’s a fluffball! Oh my god, the tongue peeking out. He looks so happy.” When you look up into his eyes, Jungkook’s heart does a thing; and his cheeks the other thing. “You painted him from memory?”

“Mmh, maybe a couple details? But I got most of him from a picture my aunt sent me a while ago. He’s been looking much older these days and I wanted to capture him before he ages even more. Made me miss him so much.”

“Awwh, Kook…” You pout. “I really want to meet him one day.”

He looks at you with something knowing and so telling in his gaze; he feels it unveil through his own stare. The knowledge he possesses about something, and that you don’t.

You might notice hints of it, but you don’t question it. Listening when he responds, “You will. He really is a fluffball and remembers me even after months and years of distance.”

“I love him already.” You lift, straightening your back. Watching as Jungkook sets the painting back before you add, “Okay. House tour. What else?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. Come.” He leads you the short way to the cupboard, and you follow in tiny steps, like an explorer running from one treasure to another. So exhilirated. So fucking cute. “Look, these— and don’t laugh, these are precious to me.”

“Laugh?”

“…These,” he opens the cupboard doors, reaching to the far back, behind some decoration; and pulls out a deck of cards. “Are my Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I used to collect them long ago, but I’m never throwing them away. Also—”

Your lips are parted, your eyes focused. Eyebrows shooting up gently, delighted when he takes out another small object from the back.

“My Jiraiya figure that I got for my tenth birthday.”

“Holy shit… I really never bothered looking in hidden corners.” Yeah… but now that you are, you’re making this place your own, too. No, it already is yours, the way he is. He swoons at the thought. “This is so cool. Why would I laugh?!”

“Ah… Were you a Naruto fan?”

You tilt your head. “A little. More into Detective Conan, though.”

Jungkook wonders… How foolish might his smile be looking right now?

“You… keep surprising me, angel,” he says — and you seem to like the praise.

Because you light up, forefinger touching his chest as you reiterate, “See? The house tour wasn’t a bad idea at all! Look at us tracking back the path of our souls, too.”

Jungkook can’t help but chuckle. You’re a breath of fresh air to be around; so incredibly tender when you’re yourself. After all those weeks, you’re finally back to who he used to know. Not as sad anymore.

Never sick of the hand-holding, he grips your palm again, voice hushed when he orders, “Follow me, quick!” The mysterious journey leads you to the closet next; back to the quiet bedroom as he playfully shushes you. “I haven’t worn them in a long time, so you won’t know, but… Look, because the secret's out.”

You crane your neck to see what he’s referring to. And when you do, you coo and laugh straight away. Endlessly enraptured when he claims, “Wahh. They were my super-favourites.”

Iron Man socks. Obviously worn a hundred times; so, so him.

His bunny teeth flash in all their glory when he smiles, dimples out and corners of his eyes crinkly. He feels you hold his hand tighter, and you pick the most supportive tone when you say, “You need to start wearing them again! It’s so sweet when you’re geeky.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He stuffs them back, though not to the very bottom anymore; places them on top for easy access. And then, he continues, “Okay. One more thing for the glorious house tour, and we’re done. It’s another important sight, actually.”

“Ah. Oh?”

Barely a couple seconds later, you’re back to where the trip started. Following suit when he kneels near the table; swift beam spreading over your face when he clears his throat and narrates, “This… Is where I painted on you. Not on another medium, but I painted on you. Remember?”

You must. He rarely abandons paper and his usual colours like that; but you were the most marvellous masterpiece he ever covered. The most outstanding canvas he’s ever drawn on…

“I do.”

Your gaze falls sideways; are you remembering the same heart on your waist that he does? And how he touched it; smeared it under the shower water. How your back pressed into his chest, unknown what feelings you truly harboured, but never failing to showcase his own care to you.

The kisses on your shoulder. The whispers in your ears. The plea for you to stay.

“Of course I do. It was so calming,” you add, “and so beautiful.” You touch the soft carpet, plucking at its tiny fibres. “You consider it a sight at Jeon manor?”

He snickers at your choice of words, but then inhales, and very sternly says, “Yeah. We also had sex here, so it’s forever tainted. I remember it felt… like… we should do it ag—”

“Now it’s you saying these things!” You move a fist to his bicep, pushing against it lightly. “Be serious. Be romantic! It’s not the time to make me want you.”

“Oof, hey… For the record, I was being romantic! And also, I only want you more when you’re being sweet,” he rubs the spot you grazed; he barely felt it, “but seriously. I still remember everything I felt for you. And how crazy you drove me… and how vulnerable you were.”

You’re still stroking the fur of the carpet as you look into his eyes; and he sees a molten puddle in yours. Only one side of your lips lifts, but the softness in your voice is genuine, “I think I still am. Just a lot safer than before.”

“…Good. Me too.”

And that’s all.

That’s all his mind comes up with, because all the words and infatuation are locked in his heart, moving to his fingertips when he inches closer. He raises them to your chin. Knees near yours and close the yawning distance until your lips are a whisker away.

Funny — how his strong chest holds a feeble heart. Bursting and aching, full and yearning.

If he could, he’d stay here with you forever, just like that.

But. The two of you have a party to host.

And the suddenly ringing phone reminds you of it. Makes you flinch until your noses and foreheads touch, and you laugh, rubbing them as you tap the couch for the device. The two of you lean against the sofa, cosy on the carpet as you pick up.

He hears Eun’s voice announce through the phone, “We’re all here. Just a warning, because you better not be naked.”

You shoot a glance toward Jungkook. He snorts, and you start, “Why would we…”

“‘Cause we’re early for once. Taehyung didn’t need as much time with his hair today. So be prepared.”

Jungkook nods in confirmation. Taehyung usually needs to be told an earlier time when invited to an event or get-together.

There are sounds in the background, and he readies himself to register another voice. But not a second later, the doorbell chimes. Guess the two of you will have to wait with the bare devotion.

Because for now, it’s time to indulge the gang. Let them stream in with vibrant greetings, wrapped gifts, endless booze and sweets as irresistible as you.

Jimin is the only guest coming in a little later, rushing straight from his shift. And Jungkook recognises quickly that he’s not Jimin’s first pick for conversation after a timid handshake and parting of ways.

There’s no enmity between them; Jungkook reckons it’s more the awkwardness from the Blue Night still lingering between Jimin and him. Maybe even some leftover guilt about how he used to perceive the younger man.

At least, it’s strange when he, eventually, does take a seat on the couch, separated from Jungkook only by a healing Yoongi. You’re busy talking to Eun, and Taehyung has escaped to the bathroom. Yoongi maintains a healthy atmosphere with casual talks and soft jokes.

But even if somewhat reluctantly, it seems that Jimin is at least trying when he leans back on the couch, enabling a better view to Jungkook as he asks, “Did you paint that one?”

Jungkook follows the finger pointing at the wall next to the window; nothing too out of the ordinary. Just colourful flowers. It’s okay. Better this than nothing to warm up to each other.

Turning on the couch, Jungkook waves a hand in denial as he explains, “Ah, no, no. She bought it because she thought it’s cute.”

“But you could paint that, too,” Yoongi argues, followed by Jungkook’s shy, “I guess.”

“Ohh, okay, okay. Well, since we’re talking about it. Even if you didn’t paint it,” Jimin says, “been wanting to tell you that I loved your exhibit stuff. Uhm, Eun showed me pictures. Hope that’s okay.”

That’s surprising. Jungkook considers himself gifted in this sense, but— having someone actually boast about his work for him makes him feel… accomplished? Appreciated.

No wonder you hold your friends in such high regard.

“Yeah! Of course. Thank you, Jimin.”

“It’s a pretty place, by the way.”

Yoongi wiggles a finger back and forth with an agreeing nod, snacking away, a quiet listener for the time being. There’s something amusing about it; makes Jungkook smile as he tells Jimin, “Thanks. And I’m glad you could come. Can imagine work’s a lot, so…”

“Yeah. No worries. Everything for our girl.”

Jungkook hums as the chat dies and the awkwardness returns. And then, he remembers—

Speaking of — where are you again? Still in the kitchen? Seems so. Or at least, moving away from it bit by bit.

Immersed in a conversation, holding the frame of the living room door, at the threshold to the anteroom. You’re discussing something with Eun, your expression focused. He can’t really make out your words because of those exchanged between Jimin and Yoongi, but…

A moment later, you do look at him. And then away again immediately — as if he caught you. A motion of your hand waves whatever cryptic topic off; and intrigued, Jungkook comes to a stand.

In vain — because Taehyung returns the same moment, babbling about whatever Yoongi just said. And you use the opportunity to march into the room, asking Jungkook to help you set the table for dinner.

To his chagrin, most of them offer to help momentarily. Taehyung swarms around you, insisting on plating, making it impossible for Jungkook to find a moment to ask what your conversation was about. And eventually, he gives up — if it’s important, you’ll tell him.

So for now, he relishes the evening your friends grant the two of you. They compliment the food, narrate short and long stories, watching Jungkook and you unwrap the gifts — board games from Jimin, cutting boards and wine from Yoongi, a stylish, modern thermostat from Taehyung and Eun.

The ecstasy overflows, the screeches probably making your neighbours think of you unhinged. Wine spills on the table; curses exchange; laughing turns into crying.

If anything other than this life is considered good, then Jungkook doesn’t crave that goodness. The unbridled chuckles, and your never-dropping smile are beyond everything twinkling and gorgeous already.

And he’s happy, too. Elated when you cover your mouth when you laugh; and overjoyed when you stand at the window after dinner, leaning forward. Breathing in the autumn air.

Jungkook follows once things wind down and the guests agree upon an appropriate volume. He mimics your stance, lower arms on the windowsill and hands hanging relaxed.

His fingers graze the withering flowers in the window box. They’re slowly dying by the hands of the approaching cold, and the rain keeps overwatering them. Yet… they still let it hurt them, holding on for as long as possible.

So in love with the shower.

It’s almost a bit tragic.

Jungkook refocuses, turning to you and asks, “What are you doing?”

Your head moves to the side, and you kill the remaining distance between you. Step close until you’re nearly nudging his elbow.

“Just,” you nod into a haphazard direction; into the outside world, “looking at the rain. Got a bit stifling in there.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook throws a glance over his shoulder. “Also, I think they’re getting drunk.”

“Mhmmm. Except Jimin. Poor him is looking at the alcohol so longingly. Did you notice that he didn’t drink?”

“Someone has to drive them home, and Yoongi with his healing injury is out. I offered, but Jimin insisted on taking care of them and not, as he said, bothering us. Super thoughtful, really.”

You smile, nodding along before you silence. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking of; or what you’re seeing. Maybe you’re truly only revelling in the rain; contrasting it with the sunshine you radiate.

Maybe he should look for a rainbow somewhere.

In the midst of the tranquil evening, your gape strays from the drizzle with a blink. It descends to his twirling thumbs, and then moves along the length of his arm. Jungkook notices your attention from the side, but only turns to look at you when he realises what you’ve fixated on.

You gesture towards the hues and outlines on his skin, delicately touching the writhing snake as you say, “Want a tour for them, too, if you’d ever allow. I imagine it could be fun.”

“Tattoo tracing?” His lips move into an endeared smile; you look so fascinated. Like you’re seeing them for the first time. “I’d be down. I could even…” His fingers journey to yours, gently leading them to the flowers. “I can even give you a sneak peek.”

“Really?”

“Sure. Look.” He guides your touch over the dazzling orange of his tiger lily. “This is me. Tiger lilies beg for love. I’ve always sought love, too.”

Your eyes change. He knows you see it, too — the urge to never be abandoned again, all the time.

He can nearly see your heart ache. And feels his own thump a thousand miles a second. A fraction of it breaks off and jumps into your chest, making it yours; it does it all the damn time until you hold the entirety of it in the palm of your hands.

Unhurried, he steers your finger further, stopping at the blue tint; clearly hears you draw a breath when he tells you, “And this… This is my girlfriend. She’s even prettier in real life… that’s right.”

For a bit, you’re speechless. Jungkook keeps admiring you in the forget-me-nots for another second, and when you don’t speak on, he meets your eyes. You’re shaking your head, and then — slowly wrapping an arm around his, moving close, head on his shoulder.

From this angle, your cheeks are demanding to be squeezed; eyelashes kiss them softly, your lips tempting curves when you laugh. Jungkook doesn’t get enough of you… and you don’t want to make it easier for him either.

Because, “Shit,” you say, “you were right about pining more when someone’s being romantic. ‘Cause you’re making me want you so bad, in every way. Are you… still up for kissing me stupid?”

“Ahh… babe.”

“I just… You excite me, too, you know?”

“Don’t say these things while they’re here, baby,” he warns, although as tenderly as anyhow possible, “you’ll give me a heart attack, I mean it.”

“Now you know how I feel all the time!” you tease, fingers flicking raindrops into his face out of nowhere.

Jungkook recoils and squirms, taken aback, but it takes him a mere second to play along. He gathers rain in his palms, threatening to toss it into your face; bickering chaos at the open living room window until your damp hands rejoin and delicate digits interlace.

And as he looks at the sad flowers again, the reality of the moment makes him think. How the two of you used to resemble the blossoms in your window box, once enduring the incessant melancholy, too.

Much like the flowers towards the downpour, Jungkook and you reached for each other while being watered by gloom — but unlike the flowers, you’re still sprouting and thriving into something vivid and fragrant. Not beaten by the agonising shower.

The rain hurt me, but I wanted to keep fighting. Because I hoped. Because I adored.

And in the end, him and you aren’t tragic like them. You will never wither — only bloom.

An hour later, the apartment is empty.

You opened all the windows to eliminate the suffocating air; and the hot water running in the sink soothes your cold skin. What a relief to watch the clinking dishes lessen; you sigh at the small amount still left, and Jungkook catches it immediately.

“See?” he teases, loading the dishwasher. Even that seems like a task after such a day; tidying up the living room was more than enough. “Good that we did most of it during and after cooking. It’s so much even now.”

Eyes heavy, you admit, “I should learn to listen to you more.”

He clicks his tongue, skipping a response, and then, out of the blue, says, “Angel… I could get used to this.”

“To me listening to you more?”

“Yes. But no. To you being here.”

You glow up, even though you’re still facing the sink, smile a little hidden, “You need to. Because I’ll be annoying you all the time.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You hit him with a spoon, wetting the spot a bit before handing the cutlery to him. Delivering a head tilt, he smirks. Amused before he remembers something and asks, “Hey. What were you and Eun talking about earlier?”

“Hm? When?”

“Before dinner. It looked serious.”

You halt mid-movement. Did he catch something? Maybe. But you only insist, “Nothing special. About her graduation… you know, since it’s pretty soon.”

Huh. Doesn’t seem to quite cut it.

“Mmmh. Anything else?”

You feign a thoughtful moment, as if you’ve wiped your memory clean off whatever she said to you. Then, you tell him, “Yeah. I told her how you played around with the recipe and came up with the best dinner ever. And how hot you looked doing it.”

“…You said the last bit, too?”

“No.” Jungkook blows a raspberry before comically pressing his lips into a line, eyebrows furrowing. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. I mean, do you know how attractive is it to be among people and know that this one person is still only looking at you?”

Oh, all too well…

“I would definitely know,” he chuckles. “Shit. You’ve been testing me tonight, you know?”

“…How?”

“All those compliments and ambiguous statements.” You shrug your shoulders in apparent innocence, muttering a small, ”It’s true" before he digs, “Anyway, don’t distract me. Anything else she said?”

Perhaps you’re done playing games. And perhaps you should’ve kept doing just that; because your next answer is a much greater tease.

“…I’ll tell you about it soon enough.”

Jungkook squints, organising a plate into a free spot, playfully disgruntled, “Unfair.”

“Hang in there.”

“Alright. You’re lucky I trust you.”

Your grin is gaping wide, and he attempts his best to ignore it. But when you add an evil snicker to it, regarding him with pure mirth in your eyes, he folds, “What?”

“Nothing. You’re just so cute. You’ll keep acting like you’re digging, but still always know when to respect my decisions. Maybe the bar is low? But I find trust ridiculously attractive.” You throw a longing smile at him, bringing a damp fingertip to his cheek to poke. “And to top it off… You’re so pretty, too, and I’m just… enamoured from all sides and—”

You wait and he uses the moment to wipe his cheek on his shirt. But when you don’t speak on, he spurs you on, “…And?”

“And I want you so bad.”

The plate waiting to be set into the dishwasher drops on the counter. Jungkook stares up, regarding the ceiling with a seemingly agitated look. You don’t know what’s truly whirling in him, so you warily ponder, “…What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Jungkook turns the water off, taking the cups from your hands and placing them in the sink. He shakes his palms off the liquid, and then whispers, “Okay. Later.”

The hold around your wrist is firm, and the tug firmer. Determined, he leads you out of the kitchen, slapping a hand over the light switch; your eyes are wide when you ask, “Wait, we’re not do—”

His answer is predictable; yet, you didn’t foresee it. Because—

“Bedroom. Right now.”

THE MORNING OF THE CONFESSION

Unlike you, Jungkook has considered himself a night owl ever since he entered the bustling world of college. Settling in the city was a stirring experience, and the thrill of it, along with a girlfriend, exams and newfound friends, kept him up until the sun rose again.

He enjoyed what he did, too. Loved school, so he didn’t mind the fatigued eyes during lectures. Truly one of the handful of joys that helped rid his head of the brain fog he bestowed upon himself after each long, sleepless night.

And he was an avid participant in classes despite his sheepish persona — they shook him awake, the late afternoon workouts obliterating the rest of the exhaustion. Maybe that’s why he was so reluctant to flake out for the night, too; still energised.

But while Jungkook carried the spirit of a straight-out-of-the-high-school-freshman who disliked falling asleep early, he despised waking up at the break of day just as much.

Would groan, blinking into the sun, with no one to blame for his agitation but him. No matter how deep his fascination for his studies and how quick the fading of his initial irritation — the first few minutes of every day were pure agony.

Jungkook is still a night owl. Still wants the nights to stretch, albeit for other reasons now. But his attitude towards mornings has changed.

There’s a shift in his preferences now; you moved his universe by an inch, altered it so effortlessly. Suddenly, he doesn’t regret rising with the sun next to him. He doesn’t curse the groggy feeling anymore.

There’s a silky touch he seeks every single morning that his eyes open to, lips he follows with his own blindly. You’re a permanent presence now, air and fire to his lungs, and he feels the freshness, feels the burn whenever your fingers brush his shoulders upon waking up.

He won’t need to check in at work for a few hours still; yet, sleeping in would mean losing the minutes that you’re still here before walking out the door until the evening.

He’ll sacrifice a slumber for this. Voluntarily.

And it’s crazy how none of this requires any sort of effort or pleading from your side. How all you need to do is to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Those extra moments, no matter how fleeting, grant him a little more time on Earth with you, and he grasps it greedily. Even when you spend it teasing the hell out of him. Or, even when you wake up with scorching cheeks and endearing, high pitched complaints.

Like today.

“I still can’t believe yesterday,” you say.

“It’s okay.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard. Thinking about it, can I really show my face at the wedding? I’ll probably make things worse.”

Jungkook keeps glancing at the back of your head, the loose bun shaking with your movement. Smoothly, his fingers trace up and down your back; a gesture he started randomly and continued the moment you mumbled, “I like it… continue?”

Sat between his legs, you’ve been swaying for a while, both uneasy and amped about the approaching event. And to Jungkook, it’s as sweet as it is frustrating to see your brain fuming like that.

“Come here, baby,” he demands, content when you reverse into him. He wraps his arms around your chest, pulling you to his body, and presses a pillowy kiss to your temple. “You’re overthinking again. I promise you, we’ll make sure you have the most fun.”

“I embarrassed myself so hard,” you repeat, and Jungkook kisses his teeth.

“You’re a clown, I’ll admit,” you whine his name, and he laughs, “but I’m telling you. I know my mom and that was her I-like-you voice. Which I didn’t doubt for a second, by the way. Like, she really seems happy with how my life has turned out, and with whom. As am I. Understand?”

One more kiss to your scalp. He swings you from side to side, ignoring the ticking of the clock. In a few, you’ll be leaving the apartment, and Jungkook will need to kill the hours until he joins Namjoon at work.

He shouldn’t be missing you already; but he still holds you tighter. Tighter until you let out a little groan, a hand on his arm. He can’t read your thoughts or decipher whether his promise helped; because you don’t answer yet.

Only wait for a few seconds, allowing him to wallow in your warmth until you call, “…Jungkook.”

“Mhh?”

“Talking about life and stuff… did you always imagine yours to be like this? Just curious.”

“Like this?” he ponders, mentally intertwining every current branch of his life into one healthily growing tree. He’s liking it. “Well… I graduated. An exhibition ahead that’ll hopefully bring me a step closer to my own studio and profession.”

You hum in pride, tapping his arm as an affectionate reward. He continues, “I do what I love, have some great friends… and I get to spend my days with my favourite person? Doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

You crane your neck to look at him; your lips are so close to his, tilted into a smile that’s so unbelievably you. “You called me that last night, too.”

“Huh? Oh, that’s right. And… I mean it. Like. Now that you’re here, it’s even clearer somehow?”

“…How so?”

“Mmh… whenever I used to get home, I’d think of what to eat and of showering and going to sleep. And when I come home now, the first thing I think of is you. What we’d cook tonight. Or what we might watch or talk about. You’re…”

He feels your chest rise under his limbs; a sigh of fondness as he knows it best.

“You’re the one I want to spend all my time with.” He pauses when you look at your blanket-covered lap, hiding your twinkling eyes. “So it’s clear.”

“You always sound so hopelessly…”

You halt mid-sentence, the touch against your arm tensing — much like his own heart, jumping to the next beat with a heavy thud. You shake your head; Jungkook doesn’t get to dwell in further thoughts… still doesn’t have the words for them yet.

Or doesn’t want to admit them yet.

If he thought about them long enough and arrived at a conclusion, would you think he’s rushing your relationship? Would it scare you?

Better not find out yet.

So he lets you talk and listens, “Anyway. So, is there anything, like… more? That you want to achieve someday? Or that you think of sometimes before you go, that’s still left for me to do.”

How fitting.

Pretending to be sinking into thoughts, Jungkook hums, letting his chest vibrate against your back, and then answers truthfully, “Yeah? Maybe a couple things. We’ll see them with time when I gather the courage to tackle them.”

“Like what?”

“Hmm… am I allowed to say that already?” More simulations, teasing you with a fake distant gaze and a hissing inhale of air. “I’m not sure. You’ll know.”

“Hey! That makes me nervous.”

“No need.” You interrupt his speech with another sound of disapproval, pulling a dorky, infectious chortle out of him; his nose scrunches up. “I’m kidding. I’m talking about all the goals I have for my career. I don’t want to stop, no matter what. Keep going and keep striving for more.”

You nod; someone as hard-working as you would understand. In a sense, you’re a role model to him, too — a sentiment that you, as you have often emphasised, reciprocate.

Yet, you advise, “Just don’t overwork. Think of Icarus! We can’t always get more than more, you know? There’s happiness in satisfaction with what we have, too. But either way…” You angle your legs, pulling them close; cuddling into him more. “I’ve got your back.”

And perhaps that’s one of the gazillion traits he cherishes so much about you.

Your position at work is reputable and treasured, and you could easily push him to work harder, too. Could want him to match your career success, because it’s more or less guaranteed for you.

But you don’t. You stand by his side, prioritising his happiness and mental strength, albeit unaware of how his future might turn out. When you say you’ve got his back, he believes you.

“I know,” he says, lips in your hair, breathing you in. “Yeah… I know.”

“Hmmm… okay,” you move on, “what about me? Do you have any expectations? Certain standards and rules? I just,” you reach forward, tugging the blanket over your chest and his arm, “I feel like that’s something one should talk about. Tell me if it’s too much, though.”

“No, you’re right. But honestly? Is it… is it weird to say that you’ve kinda become a standard?”

“…I— What do you mean?”

“I just mean that… I’m never going to tell you that I expect you to be loyal and kind because it’s the bare minimum, right? Who doesn’t want all that? I know you are, so I don’t need to say it. So I don’t have any other expectations from you; these things are already the foundation of our relationship. Just. Mmh, how do I say it?”

He thinks for a moment, but you’re nodding, as if you’ve already understood. But his thoughts don’t end here; they’re just difficult to word. In his mind, they’re clear, but upon having to express them, he doesn’t quite understand the concept of language anymore.

Curses its limitations.

But then, as emotions gingerly gather to a coherent sentence at last, he tries to explain:

“Rather than adhering to any rules or standards I could have, I feel like you’re building them for me. You make me have a type, you know?” He feels you dissolve in his arms as he taps between your clavicles. “And that’s you. I don’t want anyone if I can’t have you.”

Did he go off track? Possibly. But you don’t seem to mind.

Because your voice is painfully sweet and miniscule when you speak, on the brink of losing the fight against the tremble, “But you have me. Pinky promise that you do, for a long, long time.”

Yeah… yeah, he does. And he’d be damned if he let this go.

Because if he ever did — if he ever so foolishly lost you again after combating these cruel storms, you’d still remain his standard. He’d look for you in each face passing, and in every laugh sounding.

The blueprint. And an everlasting memory.

Does it make sense? He doesn’t know.

And it doesn’t matter anyway. You’re right here.

“I’ll take your pinky promises,” he says, overjoyed as he crosses his legs over your shins, peppering more kisses onto your cheeks, the corner of your eyes, on your ear. He speaks in between your sighs and quiet laughs, “What about you? What do you want?”

“I… I don’t think I’ve ever had any expectations either, but. The wedding and—” You hesitate, as if considering dropping whatever you were going to list; and then you start anew, “The wedding made me think, and I— I just want to have so much fun with you.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

“I want all the ordinary things we do to feel special because it’s us doing them. And I don’t ever want us to regret anything, so… I want us to be brave.”

“Brave? Well, you’re already the strongest and bravest person I know.”

“Braver. I want to live without restraints. And I don’t want to overthink anymore.”

Hmm…

Jungkook has seen your jumbled up thoughts before. The pain you cause to your mind sometimes, and the zoned out eyes painting pictures of what you fear the most.

He knows that feeling. Has battled one too many beasts to lessen the ache; even if it’s not always possible. Even if he seeks reassurances sometimes, too. And maybe that’s the prominent and sole reason why he never dismisses your disquiet.

Why push you away if you’re already at an impasse? Why not lead you out of the maze?

“Take it easy, okay?” he soothes, letting his grip around you fall bit by bit to search for your fingers instead. “Restraints can’t beat us.”

“Yeah! I’m hopeful.”

“You should be.” Because thinking of all you’ve fought within the span of a couple weeks… “You’re the first person to show me that there’s no reason to be scared, you know?”

“Then…” You sit up, curling your fingers around his hand, lifting it mid-air in sudden eagerness. “Just imagine how life could go, right? We could go to the ocean. Oh.” You gasp, sucking in air. “Oh my god! The Great Barrier Reef!”

“Ohhh, that’s actually a solid bucket list item. And then, bungee jumping?”

You nod zealously; lacking your fingers’ mobility required to list things, you instead knock your intertwined hands against your thigh each time to come up with something new. Like now, “Cliffs. And northern lights, too. I’ve always wanted to see them.”

Reflexively, you look up.

Stare at the glued-on stars from last night, and the now missing projection you dozed off to. An effective visual lullaby; you didn’t even stir when Jungkook turned it off, tucking you in properly. In your blanket; in him.

“Hell yes,” Jungkook confirms.

“But the first stop’s your hometown… and the wedding. I want to meet your family and be super awkward about it.”

Jungkook laughs, forehead falling forward against your head. He shakes it for a second, and then recalls, “Ah… so chickens and family awkwardness. What else?”

He didn’t expect this to work out before he asked you. Considering you’ve barely started at Novaura, he anticipated gentle rejection. But now that it’s become a certain event in the incredibly near future, his heart pounds every time you mention it.

Because…

You in a dress. You in his house. You, dominating over every single heart that’s dear to him.

And it seems you’ve already thoroughly thought about this, because your answer shoots out of you like a bullet, “Wanna dance with you. And kiss you under the lights.”

“Angel… you’re over the moon about this, aren’t you?”

“…Too obvious?”

You allow a fleeting glance back to him before your eyes fall down to his bare arm, ending in a hand clinging to yours; covered in ink, much like the rest of his right limb. He knows you’re staring at the flowers without asking.

And as if knowing, reading your soul, he doesn’t find himself surprised when you suggest, “And then… one day… What do you think? Should I get a tattoo someday, too?”

“Totally, if that’s what you want. What would you wanna get?”

“Flowers to match? I don’t know. Maybe you can draw on me. Here,” you lead his hand to your thigh, sticking there for a while until you move up to your hip. “Or here.”

He wonders how focused your thoughts are right now. Because if they are, and you’re not fixating on the changes of his skin, you probably won’t register the countless goosebumps under his tattoos.

A giddy sensation spreads throughout his body, collecting in his chest and tummy. Memories of a nearly bare body, painted in his dozen colours returning. And then, pictures of the same hues blurring, smudging.

He breathes an exhale, insane at the thought of kissing those lines. Of lips trailing up your skin, stopping at your hip, dying a pleasant death.

Fuck.

“I… I would. I’ll paint you any day.”

His words come out more airy than intended, fingers itching to pinch your chin, to move your face to his. To slide down the mattress, to kiss your lips swollen, making out with you until the sun sets…

But the world is cruel and too real; the clock still ticks until he realises that freezing in place isn’t an option right now. So he says, “As much as I hate to say this… You should get ready for work.”

You groan; there’s something sweet about your unwillingness to go. Relatable. And it sticks until the exhaustion washes away with each second. Small breakfast in, clothes on, newfound work spirit restored.

Must be a good day approaching.

And you’ve been enjoying the recent ones, he assumes. Despite being so good at what you do, there’s a clear difference in how you tackle a day at Charmante versus at Novaura.

And you confirm it when he accompanies you to the entrance, bidding you goodbye until you meet again later, “What I love most about Novaura is that they don’t feel the need to communicate everything with Mom. They’re their own independent world and trust themselves.”

“Right… You as someone equally independent will fit right in, so they’re lucky to have you there. Makes me wonder, though.” Jungkook pauses, watching you grab your jacket from the wall hook, “Are your Charmante people okay with you being at Novaura so much?”

A COUPLE DAYS LATER

“…I really don’t know if I can do this.”

Well, shit. Wasn’t he ready to strive for more, run endlessly until his feet tired? Where is the dread suddenly emerging from?

Jungkook has barely set his sketchbook down when lightning bolts head for him.

Countering his concern with kissing eyebrows, Namjoon’s full lips purse, dimples gone as he wonders, “What are you even talking about?” — Much at the same time as you utter a threatening, “Shut up,” pastry lifted, ready to throw at him.

Jungkook shies away from the table, ready to dodge your attack; returning when you place the crumbly croissant back on your plate. He presses his lips together before smacking and kissing them, finger rolling the pen over his sketches, but eyes fixated on Namjoon’s notebook.

“I’m serious. There’s so much to do until November, and I… how do I get so much done?”

“But,” Namjoon knocks against the random drawing open on the table, “you already have so much to show. And you can revamp stuff from college, too. Besides, it’s okay to try your best and be scared at the same time, Jungkook! That’s part of a growing artist’s job.”

“But, are you sure I’m a growing artist?!”

Namjoon mutters something under a breath, and you add something unintelligible to the reassuring mix. Jungkook’s worried gaze remains on the rough lines of pencil on paper, teeth repeatedly nibbling his lower lip. Baring his mole.

He closes the sketchbook, staring at the golden, imprinted letters on a dark black background. He’s filled a quarter of it already; the very piece you gifted him for his birthday almost a month ago.

In some way, opening to a blank page serves as inspiration alone. You furnished him with something so simple yet gorgeous; thoughtful engraving to use as a reminder to hold onto his efforts.

But…

Amidst the lasting zeal, he’s been racking his brain. Because. What if he immerses himself in this, spending hours tainting his fingertips in different tints — only to steer towards failure?

What if it doesn’t work out? And he ends up not amounting to much, other than trying his luck online and living on a bare minimum of a salary? Would he start tutoring young, aspiring artists?

And you…

You’re diving into a stable job, well-paid, well-known. If you end up carrying both of you on your shoulders… would you think of him as a washout? Grow frustrated and dissatisfied?

You’ve been repeatedly declaring your unswerving support, but what if you some day do realise that…

Ugh.

He stuck to this passion with the full knowledge he would never fall out of love with it; but now that he’s working for his dreams, the process seems so scary all of a sudden.

“And I’m at the wedding, too…” he says.

He leans back in his chair, moving his pupils away from the paper and instinctively up to you. More concerns threaten to tumble off the tip of his tongue, but when your eyes suddenly flicker with disappointment, his lips shut again.

You blink, unsure, before you ask, “Do you… not want to go? We could totally stay here if you need the time.”

Oh…

Hadn’t you gushed about the event day in, day out now, he would’ve maybe believed your words. And in some sense, you probably do think of the alternative as okay, as long as he profits from it.

But he sees it in your eyes. And not just in yours — he’s been as enthralled by the idea as you. Which is why…

“No,” he responds, “no. We will go.”

Because the prospect of winding down with you has been keeping him sane. Doting on you under the countryside stars, showing you all you haven’t seen before, body to body dancing with you…

He’s not missing out on that, no matter what.

And god knows you need the break, too… especially after the utter hysteria last Friday…

“Kook, think about it. You need to be absolutely sure,” you argue, genuine worry in your gaze; from his side eye, he sees Namjoon nod in confirmation.

“I am. We’ll go, baby, okay?”

You don’t avert your gaze; your mouth closes a little, but you stay unblinking, waiting for his mind to change. He knows because he sees the thoughts floating at the surface of your eyes.

Like you’re still pondering; of course you are. As someone who’s been working hard for their career, even if just for a few months, you’d know. Who’d understand if not you?

The trance lingers between the two of you, and Jungkook lifts his lips, a vow and certainty in his smile. Moment only broken when Namjoon clears his throat and encourages once more, “Give it a shot, Jungkook… Those high-profile people need to see what you’re capable of! I mean, we’re so lucky to have them coming to our exhibits.”

Namjoon gestures randomly, across the small restaurant as he says, “Say what you will about this city, but we lure in quite a few esteemed artists for sure.”

“Who says something about this city?” you ask.

“I do,” Namjoon’s voice is soothing. One thing Jungkook has learned about him is that his flowery mind never rests. Lyrical; not always easy to understand. “I love and hate it. Leaving it, living it.”

He pauses, sipping on his diet coke before smacking the taste away and ordering, “Ask me anytime if you need any help, alright? And be confident.”

“And… what if it does work?”

Your gentle laugh sounds from the opposite side of the table, the straw of your milkshake on your tongue. The rhythmic melody calms something deep in him; perhaps more because he understands your reaction.

You’re just as cute worrying about things that he knows you’d ace.

“Well,” Namjoon starts, aware that Jungkook knows; still annihilating his unease, “the guy is ready to buy your art. If it goes well, he’ll sponsor you. Then, at some point, you’ll be able to afford your own studio and grow as an artist. Ideally.”

“Ah… ah, really…”

”Kookie,” your voice calls; you lean over the round table, shoving the milkshake aside, “don’t worry. And in the most unlikely case that it doesn’t go as planned, know that I’ll cheer you on either way.”

“And me too,” Namjoon raises a hand.

Your finger swings to and fro between Namjoon and you, and your expression changes from empathic and soft to the sweetest, most gut-wrenching smile he’s ever seen. The apples of your cheeks lift, pupils sparkling when you vow, “We’re here for you.”

He…

He could look at you all day, blinking be damned. Could pour out his emotions every second of every minute of every hour, and it’d still not match the endless letter his heart keeps crafting for you.

Disregarding how much of a shipwreck the two of you were last Friday, his chest has still lightened ever since; an epiphany has never been sweeter.

Because…

The words he couldn’t compose into a poem before are now an ardent confession, with rhymes and a melody and infinite beauty. Roaming his mind nonstop, caught in that baby pink bubble.

When had his senses last heightened this much?

Because somehow, he still feels the damp trail of tears he cried that night. And the heart that beat against your cheek. You, frozen against him, processing his words.

If there are ways to make him fall in love harder, you’ve been presenting them all the goddamn time.

And fuck, it’s been hard focusing on anything but you.

Like, on paying. Or on upholding a conversation with Namjoon — assuring him he’d be back in the studio in a bit as he prepares to bid you goodbye for the day.

To his chagrin, the walk to your car isn’t long. It’s parked at a corner, convenient for lunch dates like these; you promised you’d join one with Joon at some point, and you did. Forty-five minutes passed too quickly. Felt like a moment.

“Namjoon is so nice!” you comment, hands in the pockets of your denim jacket.

You keep swaying back and forth, from your heels to your toes and back. Your smile and movements suggest a free spirit, but your risen shoulders and the shallow crease between your eyebrows drench you in something tense.

You’ve been like that since you suggested staying, focusing on his work.

“He’s so wise, too, really,” Jungkook responds, close to you in case your swinging moves leave you tumbling, “like, a cool mix between calm and dorky. I’ve been learning so much from him.”

“Jeon Jungkook and his love for his mentor. You will never stop talking about him.”

Jungkook shrugs, a hand to the nape of his neck, face warming, “He’s cool, what can I say?”

“Yeah.”

And once again… he sees you gulp. Unsure, pupils flickering. You usually don’t struggle maintaining eye contact. So he soon wonders, “Are you okay? I… I hope you didn’t misunderstand what I said earlier. I really do want to go to the wedding.”

“Hm?” you voice, chin lifting a bit before you dispute, “Oh. No, I believe you. If you say it’s okay, then that’s how it is.”

“What then?”

“What do you mean? Do I really seem like something’s up?”

“A little.”

“Uhm…”

You roll up your eyes as you dig into your thoughts. Scouring your brain for whatever might be meandering in the back of your mind. Hm… seems you’re not fully cognisant of the subtle change in your behaviour, either?

So maybe, it means nothing after all.

Then again. It must be something.

Because in hindsight, he didn’t only notice today, but all weekend, too—

Oh…

Maybe you’re just getting used to the new developments; maybe they’re just making you a bit bashful like him. Maybe…

Okay. Deep breath. He just needs to make it sound like a joke, nothing pushy or odd or awkward because—

“Or is it because I told you I love you? Have I scared you off already?”

He watches your breathing stop. As though flexing an x-ray stare, watching your lungs dry up, air stuck in your throat until it escapes through your nose. Honestly… he’s been feeling the same.

“No!” you answer, tone breathy, pulling a hand out of the pocket to sprightly push at his shoulder. He barely budges. “Of course not. All that does is make me want to faint.”

Jungkook chuckles, delighted when your laugh matches his own. He doesn’t always know how to take a compliment either; but you fix your speechlessness with that glow on your face. Fills his own body with fairy dust, too.

His dimples are valleys when your fingers move to his open jacket, grazing the zipper and filling the seconds with quiet tenderness. He doesn’t know what to say to you until you let the silence prolong and then giggle into it once more.

If he could just dive into your brain. But all he has are his own, messy thoughts.

And those tangled thoughts say—

“Angel… Can I kiss you?” Now his lungs are collapsing, too. Worse, so much worse when you look into his eyes, still so surprised at every sliver of affection he signs. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

No… he needs to. Needs to blossom in this breezy weather. But he won’t tell you that.

He’ll just keep looking at you. One second, two seconds — until you’ve raised your hands to the collar of his jacket to move him closer, soon sneaking your touch further up to his neck. A miniscule and wordless hint of approval, and he basks in it avidly.

Twitching palms hesitate for only the subtlest of moments before they’ve dashed up to your cheeks, cupping your face and leaning in and…

Lock.

A picture of a lock. And of its key.

The first thing to flash into his mind.

Because how do his lips fit so perfectly between yours? When you touch him like this, delicate fingers caressing his jaw, how do you feel so much like a feather? And the damn way you sigh into his mouth… how you reciprocate the kiss.

He will never tire of telling you, telling himself, that you match him just like the ocean complements the shore. And it’s baffling. How perfect this feels, and how right it feels.

You do make the ordinary extraordinary.

Like a kiss that is shared a million times a day, between so, so many people. But you’re moving your lips against his. Holding onto him, tilting your head, soaking in his warmth. Going tentatively, then a bit faster, then slow again.

For the merest moments when your mouths part, you gasp, inhaling before pushing your fingers into his hair, at the back of his head. Then back against him, seeking his tongue; such soft sounds meeting his that he swears he could cry.

Cry about the shiver down his spine and the flutter in the pit of his stomach. About the world becoming a backdrop to everything in the middle of the pavement; and about how his thoughts only revolve around your shared breaths and the feeling of your warm cheeks.

Just you.

You, you, you.

Still too far away. Why do you drive him so incredibly mad?

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He loves you. He loves you.

Under a breath and against your soft pillows, he mutters your name; so airy that he barely recognises his voice. His tongue drags over your lower lip, pecking one more time before he establishes an intruding distance between you.

Your foreheads touch for a transient bit, thumb skimming your cheek. When he opens his eyes, yours are still shut, and you’re feeble in his grip. And then, he asks, “What’s wrong?”

You swallow again. Take a breath before admitting, “You’re right. There’s something I want to ask you, and I was so stupidly… nervous about it.”

“Yeah?”

“The whole gang, they… they’ve been planning something. They paid for it and all, but they’re waiting for me to give them an answer, so they know if I need to pay them back or if they should cancel or, or—”

He interrupts your ramble with a soft, “Tell me, babe.”

“Okay,” your eyelids finally open up; your gaze is so hazy when you look at him. “It’s a trip. Four days, three nights, during the wedding week.” He hasn’t said a word when you hurry to add, “But, we can leave earlier. It’s a road trip kinda thing to the mountains and the beach and. They want us there, too.”

”Oh.”

“…Yeah.”

“I… Baby.” He moves back, shaking his head. He was careful not to ruin your hair, well aware you have half a work day ahead of you; but he still brushes a strand back. “Were you and Eun talking about that two weeks ago?”

“Yeah. And Tae also said I should be the one to ask because you’d like that. But then things happened and all the stress and…”

“But… even before that. Why were you so nervous asking me about it for so long?”

“Because,” you answer, one shrug of your shoulders, “I wanted to wait and see how you feel about the exhibition and the workload. And you already have limited time because of the wedding and I didn’t want to take away more of it.”

He can’t help but beam; why does this feel… endearing? Mirrors his own thoughts when he asked you about accompanying him to the wedding.

“We really do have the same brain, don’t we?” he asks.

“You’d think we’d learn.”

You say it lightheartedly, yet gnaw on your lips. He tongues the inside of his cheek, keeping eye contact, and then queries, “There’s something else, right?”

“Ah, just.”

You look unsure, trying to make sense of your thoughts, but your uncertainty makes him uncertain, too. So he exhales before he prods, “What? What what? Is it something bad?”

“No! Just. They’ve been wanting to do this since the summer. They never talked about it to me because you and I were… you know.” You kiss your teeth, and he uses the second to whoosh away the aching memories. “But they never cancelled for us, either.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because they’d say, and I quote, ‘Just wait.’ They knew we couldn’t stay away from each other even before we did.” You laugh. “Eun told me that day in the kitchen.”

Even before you did?

Untrue. He knew he didn’t want to live without you the moment you left his apartment, tear-soaked and heartbroken.

“Okay…” he starts, “and you were worried because?”

“Because you always get so sad when I talk about the summer. Explaining the context of the trip seemed hard to me, and I didn’t want you to feel guilty.”

Oh…

Shit, man.

“You’re… ahhh… my sweet baby.” He wants to hug you to his chest and never let go. But you’re already running out of time, lunch break nearing its end, so he only grips your shoulders. “You know that it gets better after two minutes, no? Because whatever happened, I have you now.”

He flicks your chin as he has been lately; it cheers you up. Makes you smile a bit, conjures the pout away. Adding to the effect when he says, “Don’t worry so much, my love.”

Another inhale. Then, you admit, “I’m sorry. I dragged it out.”

“It’s okay.”

“So… would you come? Do you think you could take some time off work and all? I’d understand if it’s too much.”

“Hmm… Right before the wedding, isn’t it?”

“Mid-october, yes. We could leave earlier!” you reiterate, hellbent on assuring he’s not obligated to do anything. So sweet, how you scratch your head. “They’d drive on. It’s convenient because it’s all in the same week.”

“Mountains and beach, you say.”

“If you don’t like them, we can stay at the hotel and chill together.”

Shit.

His grin widens with each heartbeat; you notice, because despite your suggestions, you sound more lively now.

And yet, it’s funny you’d question all these things like this at all. Don’t you remember damp cheeks and gentle touches?

Just days ago.

How he was still trembling when you left Eun’s complex. How he stopped you before climbing into the car, much like now, mumbling a timid, “Angel…”

And then retracting when his heart combusted. Looking into your eyes, still red, his own mind filled with nervous fear before settling on, “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

Or how you cried in the living room. How you broke down, terrified he might walk away. How his breath quivered, how his head spun, how he felt like he might throw up or faint or scare you off.

The damn sickness in his stomach until he spat the hidden words for the first time. And the pounding of his heart when you responded with a mumbled, “Kook… How.”

And… how his chest constricted at everything that followed after that. Don’t you remember?

In spite of every indication he threw your way — you still worry so much.

Funny you’d be so nervous around someone who wants to see the entire world with your hand in his.

What did you call it again? Wanting to be brave.

So fucking easy with you.

“How about…” he begins, staring into anticipating eyes, hearing a storm of cheers rumble, “going shopping before we leave?”

Your demeanour changes momentarily. The unsure girl, afraid to hurt him, soon finds her way back to her foundation. You light up, a hand over your mouth; your cheeks must be hurting.

You deliver one, short jump and then pull him back in, kissing his lips once before scattering a couple more pecks next to them. He soon finds himself pushing you towards your car, forcing you back to work, but you have a thousand things to babble about.

He’s adoring all the bright stars in your eyes — now he understands how you feel when you see the same universe in his.

It’s crazy. How effort is never required from your side for him to feel that way. How you only need to breathe and talk and smile and stay.

Stay stay stay.

The word sails and wafts through his dazy thoughts like a silent prayer. Begging and begging; pleading to allow him to pour all his love on you, although he doesn’t need to ask. You always let him anyway.

And he guesses he’s using that permission thoroughly. Maybe that’s why keeps craving and burning for more; why he’s been holding you tighter these nights.

His tiger lily pressed against your heart.

*head in hands* they are so crazy for each other, pls 😭 warmth and reassurances and support and bickering literally build the foundation of their relationship and i love them sm :') for some reason the editing process knocked me out, but i still adore this one so so much, and i hope you guys did, too!! 🥺

feedback is always so so appreciated!! you guys are literally such a freaking supportive bunch and have kept this series alive for so long and i love you to death :( here's to the first one this year!! as always, please consider leaving a like, reblog (with or without feedback!), comments and spammm my inbox with everything that's on your mind hehe <3 any kind of msg makes my day!

and nowww!!!!! moving on to cmi: palette and VACAYYYY!!! mwah mwah 🤍

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #jeongguk smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts imagines #jungkook fic #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook

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thoughtidtry · 12 days

Text

Dress Pt.2 - LN

SUMMARY: Lando's best friend can't keep pretending he's not her everything. Not after missing seeing him in person for so long. PAIRING: Lando Norris X LongDistanceBestfriendfem!reader A/N: Inspired by Lando's race win and song Dress by Taylor Swift. 2.6k+ words (Honestly thought it would be shorter lol) LMK in the comments if you would like a pt.3! Part: 1 2 3

"Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try."

From the moment you were in Lando's arms, he never let go more than he had to. While showing you around the McLaren garage he made sure to guide you through with slight touches or nudges in the right direction. You knew there was no way he was letting you out of his sight. With his hand placed firmly on the small of your back, he explained every corner of the garage in painstaking detail while knowing you probably didn't really care. Something about the way you attentively listen though made it seem like you hung on his every word.

Really, you had just missed his voice. Phone calls could only do so much to make up for the distance between you two. It had been something you both had gotten used to over time. Now you didn't know if you could ever go back to not being beside him. The hours before the race started passed faster than you had hoped they would. Something just clicked when you were together like you had never been apart in the first place.

Soon you watched from the side as Lando talked with the engineers and strategists about the race plan. You had seen him in racing attire before, back in secondary school, but the memory did not prepare you for just how good he looked. He couldn't stop smiling, not when he felt your gaze on his every move. After he had finished talking to everyone, he made his way back over to you with a headset in hand.

"Here let me put this on you, it connects to the radio in my car so you can hear me during the race."

You nodded along in understanding as he placed the headset on your head and fixed it to the correct settings. Earlier, Lando had told you they recently made upgrades to the car and that it would be the first race to test them. This made you hopeful for the results of the race, you knew how much Lando wanted a win. The excitement of everyone in the garage could be felt as they made final preparations.

"You're gonna do great Lan, I just know it."

You beamed up at him with the widest smile possible. Lando couldn't help but smirk a bit letting your confidence boost his own. He reached to stroke your cheek as he spoke.

" Of course I will, I've got you here to cheer me on. I always do better when I know you're watching the race. Just imagine how I'll do today with you actually here."

You look away feeling yourself start to blush while trying to figure out how to respond to that. Luckily, Lando's name was called as the race was about to start. Quickly, you stand and swiftly peck his cheek whispering good luck in his ear before pushing him towards the calling engineers. He looked back, shaking his head a bit before jogging to put his helmet and other stuff on.

"My hands are shaking from holding back from you"

Watching a race in person was exhilarating for you. The energy in the garage made every turn, overtake, and pit stop more suspenseful. Getting to hear Lando’s voice through it all made the race even more real. He hadn’t had a good start to the race but was quickly making up for it by getting the fastest lap multiple times.

A crash happened towards the back of the race resulting in a safety car being put onto the track. Lando had already passed the pit when the car was released, giving him an edge. Once the race started again his engineer was avid about keeping a gap between him and Max. As the final laps dwindled, you felt overcome with hope. This could be it, Lando’s first win.

As Lando crossed the finish line you heard his cheers over the radio. The joy and relief was evident as you knew how long he had waited for this.

One of the mechanics was kind enough to escort you over to where the winners would park their cars. The whole McLaren garage ended up walking together to the spots. Once you all arrived, you slipped a bit away. As much as this was Lando’s win it was theirs and they didn’t need some random girl in the middle of their celebration.

You watch from your spot as Lando pulls up and stands on the top of his cars. The crowd was cheering his name and many drivers made a beeline for him after parking their own cars. It was clear how loved he was not only by his own team but by everyone here. His large smile would forever be etched into your mind as he received hugs from everyone and even started a crowd surf with the McLaren employees. Your hand were shaking with all the excitement built up in your system.

Everything was perfect, at least you thought so, but you noticed Lando kept looking around. Was there a specific driver he was looking for or some important person?

Lando was on cloud nine getting out of his car parked in P1. He was a race winner after so long fighting for this moment it felt right to have you here. He wanted to find you and celebrate as soon as possible.

As all the drivers came up to him he wanted to soak in the moment but he just kept looking around for you. Were you still at the garage? Turning to see the McLaren team waiting behind the barrier he knew what they were waiting for.

Starting at a full sprint he launched himself into their awaiting arms. It was then on top of his teammate he caught a glimpse of you off to the side with a smile as bright as the sun. As soon as he was back on his feet he was making his way to you.

When Lando’s eyes found you it was like time stopped for a few moments. Before you knew it he was headed straight for you. He crashed into you, wrapping you up in a bone-crushing hug while lifting you off your feet. You squeal a bit as he begins to spin you both around before tilting your head back to laugh.

“You did it Lan! You won!”

Lando set you back on the ground as you started to speak. He could see the spark of joy in your eyes as you spoke.

“Told you I’d do better with you here”

Lando exclaimed, smirking as he looked down at you in admiration.

“Knowing you were cheering for me made all the difference. I couldn’t disappoint you after you came all this way.”

You rolled your eyes at his comment, he could never disappoint you. It didn’t matter to you whether he came in first or very last place as long as he was happy. Before you could tell him that a staff member came up to grab Lando for his post win interviews. He nodded to let them know he was on his way and let you know he’d be only about half an hour. Calling another McLaren mechanic over, he asked if they would see you back to his driver room after the podium till he was finished with the media.

With that he was off and you followed the mechanic over to where the podium celebration was to be held. The ceremony was amazing as the two other drivers covered Lando head to toe in champagne. He didn’t even have a chance to open his before the other two started their assault which made you laugh. Once they had moved on to their next victim, Lando walked to the front of the podium doing his signature move to start spraying the champagne all over the crowd before spraying the other driver as well.

"I don't want you like a best friend"

The interviews didn’t take long so Lando was back and ready to leave the paddock not long after arriving. Oscar had been sneaky when helping you book a hotel for your stay and you were apparently staying at the same place as the drivers were.

Lando noted to thank Oscar again as he ushered you to his car stopping along the way to sign autographs and take pictures. He filled you on the plans for tonight as you drove and what time to be ready by.

Once at the hotel, you went to your separate hotel rooms to get ready. You pulled a dress out of your suitcase packed specifically for this see Lando again. It was a beautiful purple dress that hugged the top of your torso while still being flowy. After taking a shower and getting ready you texted Lando to let him know. Turns out most of the drivers were already dressed and down in the lobby. Quickly you grabbed your clutch and made your way down.

Lando was smiling as he put his phone away after answering your text. He and a couple other drivers had finished getting dressed early so they were in the lobby while waiting for the rest. He felt a nudge on his shoulder and found all the other drive smirking at him with knowing eyes. Max was the one to speak up always most blunt when it came to feelings.

"So are you gonna tell her how you feel or are you just gonna let her go again?"

He didn't know much about your friendship with Lando but he knew the younger boy was smitten. The other drivers piled on words of encouragement and how they could tell you liked him back. The more the others added, the pinker Lando's cheeks got until he finally defended himself.

" I just don't want to lose her guys. Now shut up she is on her way down."

The other drivers chuckled while shaking their heads but they left Lando alone after that which he was thankful for. Looking around he noticed you starting to make your way over and stopped in his tracks. He hadn't forgotten how beautiful you were but in that dress, it was like you were enchanted. He knew Max was right, he wanted more from you than just a friendship, he always had. Ever since that day in secondary when he had introduced himself he had wanted more, to know you more, hear your laugh more, be near you more.

The sound of laughing gave away their location long before you saw the group. From the looks of it, they had been teasing Lando about something as his face was lightly pink. He was looking towards the ground wearing all black and a backward cap. It made you smile a bit at how flustered he seemed by whatever they had said. Only a few seconds had passed when he caught your presence.

You grew a little nervous under his gaze and began to play with the hem of your dress as you came to a stop in front of him. Looking up into his eyes, a mostly green color now, you softly whispered

"Hey, Lan."

You clear your throat while tearing your eyes away from his to speak to the whole group.

"Hey guys, everyone ready to celebrate?"

The other driver let out a cheer and Carlos showed up a moment later. Apparently, he was the last one the group was waiting on so everyone began to decide how we were getting to the club.

“Only bought this dress so you could take it off”

Once at the club the boy immediately went to grab drinks while you stayed back with the other drivers' girlfriends. Girlfriends. Something you could only wish to be. They were nice and asked many questions about how you were, what you do, and how long you have known Lando. You explained with ease the timeline that led you here. Lily was the first to speak, seeming to be a bit in shock.

"Wait, you're the mysterious best friend? The one Lando has kept hidden away like a treasured prize?"

The other girl nodded in agreement at her statement. Had Lando been too embarrassed to talk about you? You felt a bit ashamed for a moment looking down. Lily was the first to notice, adding on with a kind smile and a bit of laughter.

"Oh, no! It's not a bad thing! Trust me. He lights up anytime you even text him. It's more like he doesn't want to share you honestly. I was just surprised he finally let the princess out of her tower to be seen by the rest of us. That boy is head over heels-"

Before Lily could finish her sentence you felt an arm snake around your waist. You turned assuming it would be Lando but you had been mistaken. The man before you was taller with brown eyes and reddish-brown hair.

"Hey, wanna go dance with me beautiful?"

The man smiled as he looked you up and down. He wasn't a bad-looking guy, not as handsome as Lando though. Someone else probably would have agreed, but someone else wasn't in love with their best friend. You tried to step away as his hand on your waist just felt wrong but he was able to grab onto your arm before you were fully free.

"Oh come on, just one dance couldn't hurt. I doubt your friends would mind."

You tried to pull your arm free but his grip was firm. The panic started to set in as you looked to see where Lando was. He would help, he would always save you.

"Her friends might not mind but her boyfriend definitely will."

A familiar voice called from behind you as your head snapped toward it in relief. There he was, your Lando, he looked pissed, flanked by an annoyed-looking Max and an angry-looking Carlos. The man quickly released your arm and turned to storm off with a scoff. You stumbled back a bit before Lando caught you. With no hesitation, he wrapped his arms around your waist before leaning down to speak in your ear.

"Can't let you out of my sight for a minute without someone trying to steal you huh?"

Your face turned bright red as you turned to him feeling a wave of confidence. Was he jealous? The look on his face was downright murderous at least. Wrapping your own arms around his neck, you leaned up to speak in his ear.

"We both know you're the only person this dress would come off for."

Lando stood in shock for a moment as his grip tightened on your waist. It only took a moment for his lips to crash into yours. You could taste the alcohol he had been drinking and feel how tense his body was before he relaxed into the kiss. Sure, you had kissed other guys before but never had anyone kissed you with so much overwhelming passion. Breaking away from the kiss he sighed.

"How about we get out of here?"

You can only nod still thunderstruck by how passionately he had kissed you. Lando smirked at the effect he has on you while leading you over to the group of driver not far away.

"Hey guys, were gonna head out."

The drivers look in between the two of you with knowing glances and exchange goodbyes with Lando as you two start to leave. You look back and wave goodbye to everyone as Lily gives you a thumbs-up. Blush rushes to your face as you both get into the taxi with Lando giving the hotel's address. You can't help but stare at him in the moonlight. He glances down at you with a smile.

" You know I'm never letting you go, right?"

You smile up at him with love-struck eyes. At this moment you decide, you would do want ever needed to stay by his side from then on. The company you worked for has offices abroad, and you could travel if needed, you would do anything to stay like this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pt.3?

Taglist: @scarletwidow3000

#formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #long distance romance #long distance friendship #formula one #mclaren

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lovingmattysposts · 6 months

Text

My Brother's Best Friend Part 6

P1 P2 P3 P4 P5 P7 P8 P9 P10 P11 P12

pairing: y/n and Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you just moved into the sturniolo’s home after some family issues and you’re starting to become attracted to your best friend’s brother and you hated yourself for it. But how could you resist?

warnings: cursing, mentions of family issues,

sorry this took a minute, love yall

xoxo Autumn

Chris pov

"A-Any of it? You don't remember any of it?" She asked looking up at me in almost fear, like she was questioning her own memory. Fuck. I pursed my lips and shook my head slowly, like my brain was rejecting my own response.

She just looked up at me evident hurt plastered on her face, she turned away to hide her expression as she nodded. I just looked down at her opening my mouth to say something but nothing came out.

I saw tears start to pool in her eyes. It felt like a punch in the gut. I'd never seen her cry before. I don't even think Nick has seen her cry. I stepped forwards before she turned without saying anything, basically sprinting towards the front door.

Like she couldn't stand standing in front of me for another second. I looked down, feeling guilt run down my entire body so much it ached.

She told me about what happened with her parents. I know what I said to her, I remembered all of it. It just felt too soon. I don't know. I'm an awful person. She hides her feelings so well, we have that in common. I didn't know my words effected her as they easily slipped off my lips.

I placed my hand on my forehead, before biting my lip and picking my head up letting out a breath.

I couldn't do this again. It wasn't fair to myself. I couldn't do this again.

I didn't meant to hurt her. I just wanted to protect myself. I didn't know meant that me turning into a complete insensitive asshole. That's not who I am and that's all i've been showing her.

"Three days ago I was good enough to kiss, then three seconds later it was just a moment and you don't have any feelings for me, this morning I was a kid, and now I'm pretty?"

I winced at the memory moving through my head. I''ll admit that it was easier to be open with how I feel about her when I was a little drunk. I'm to scared to in person, sober. It was like 15 year old Chris speaking for me while looking at her on the roof, spilling out my thoughts as she looked up at me the way she was.

Then 19 year old Chris woke up and was scared to get hurt again. It wasn't fair to her I get that, but I just wish she knew. But she didn't and she was never going to.

God, I need to burn that notebook. Even drunk seeing her holding it made my heart drop in fear.

I swallowed looking back towards the door.

I knew this would happen. The second she showed up at my front door with a bag the size of her. I knew it. I just hated myself for letting it happen, but not as much as I hated myself seeing her start to cry over my words.

I felt a buzz in my pocket, before sliding out my phone.

From: Elmer

Bro where tf u at?? were about to start

I bit my lip looking back up to the door. Before typing up a reply.

From: Elmer

something came up, i'll catch you later

I sent it before taking a deep breath and turning and walking down the street. I had to make this right.

Y/n pov

Nick sighed running his hands through my hair, as I let out a deep breath. I closed my eyes not my now damp eyelashes brushing my skin. Nick let out a breath.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked softly from above me. I went running to Nick's room, due to the fear of Chris bursting through the door to chase after me, newsflash y/n he didn't, but I knew he wouldn't come into Nick's room.

I crying uncontrollably not able to make any words form, just helpless cries. I don't know the last time I cried the way I just did. It might have been a year. Or at least 8 months.

I was like the tip of the iceberg that was already falling over. Just that last final push of being punched in the face by someone I cared about screaming "I don't care and I never did" directly in my face after I let my walls come down.

I let out a breath my cries finally stopping. He just peered down over me. I looked up at him.

"I'm a mess Nick" I breathed. He smiled slightly down at me, making me slightly smiling, then dropping it. I looked down at my hands and peering at the door.

He never came after me. He meant it. He had no idea what happened last night and he didn't see me cry. I swallowed, feeling the familar feeling pass through me like a wave of relazation.

I have to move on, again. Someone hurt me and broke me again. I had let someone gain my trust and they smashed in front of my face, again. How could I be so stupid? So navié. I will never learn.

For the rest of my life I will let someone in and they will burn me. I've never know anything differently. What hurt the most in the dissapointment at myself, was that I told Chris what happened before my best friend.

Chris wasn't the one soothing my cries. Nick was. Chris wasn't the one wiping away my tears. Nick was. I had put my romantic feelings for someone over my friendship with Nick, and I hated myself for it. The worst part was that I was feeling the guilt of the situation Nick had no idea about. Worst of all, It was his fucking brother.

I sighed swallowing, looking up at him.

"I just-" I took a deep breath. "I'm tired of trusting people" I said honestly looking up at him. He nodded. "I get that" He said softly. I closed my eyes.

"I'm not trying to get you to tell me something you don't want to, but did something happen at your mom's?" He asked softly, making my heart clench. Chris didn't have to do anything and I openly told him everything when he didn't ask for it. Nick saying this to me only made me feel like a worse friend.

"My mom kicked me out of the house that's why I came to stay here Nick" I admitted looking up at him. His face didn't wavor and he just nodded looking down at me.

"I just-" I sighed feeling guilty for saying I was crying over my mother when I wasn't. I was crying because his brother punched me in the gut and spit in my face.

"Seeing her, it was just-" I shook my head. He nodded, moving his hand back over my hair. I bit my lip. I hated lying to him. I fucking hated it.

I heard the door start to creek open and my eyes shot to the door, before seeing Matt peeking his head in. I sighed of relief. Matt glanced from Nick to me. He studied my face and I looked away from him, guilt present on my face.

"Is everything okay in here?" He asked his eyes not leaving mine as i avoided is gaze. Nick looked up at him. "Yeah, everything's good" Nick answered for me as I stared at the ground.

Matt shifted on his feet before crossing his arms over his chest. "Y/n, why are you crying?" He asked. I blinked up at him as he stared straight at me. I felt his mind, so much it hurt.

"Matt" Nick said shaking his head. Matt looked from me to him. I sat up sighing. "My mom doesn't love me. Would you like me to alaborate Matthew?" I asked tilting my head at him.

His face dropped and he uncrossed his arms. "Oh uh, I'm sorry i'll just leave you guys be" He said shaking his head and then turning to leave. I sighed laying back down. I'm getting way too good at lying.

I looked over at Nick, who was shaking his head. I smiled over at him.

"Do me a favor" I breathed. He just glanced over at me. "Never let Holton treat you badly" I stated looking at him. His eyebrows furrowed at my statement. He leaned back.

"What does that have to do with anything?" He asked blinking at me. If you only knew. I shrugged. "I don't know. I just don't want anyone to ever hurt you" I said softly, looking down at my hands. He chuckled.

"We've only been on two dates, it's not that serious" He said quietly. I looked up at him smiling. I smiled at him before throwing myself onto him, hugging him. He groaned laughing, holding his arms up, hating physical effection.

"Please don't ever leave me" I whispered laying against him. He reached down patting my head slightly. "There isn't anything you could do to make me go away" He repeated from the other night again. I sighed the guilt slowly eating me alive.

The rest of the night, Nick and I stayed in bed laughing over endless movies and I started to feel better. I knew when I had to come in contact with Chris again, that feeling might change, but for now I was okay. I just needed to not show that he effected me as much as he did.

I don't like guys. I always had too much going on in my own life, guys were the absoutle last thing on my mind. So maybe thats why It happened so fast, because I wasn't used to the feelings of butterflies or wanting a text to come through, or the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach when he flirted with me.

I never ever have caught feelings for someone so quickly with them doing nothing. Showing the bare amount of interest and I was head over heels. Now it was gone. Or at least had to go away.

Starting now there would be no more persuing Christopher Sturniolo. No matter what.

"This bitch has zero common sense" I said lifitng my arm up to the TV. The fifth season of Love Island playing before us. When I didn't hear a response, i turned and looked at him. His eyes were closed with his hand propted behind his head, snoring softly.

I sighed realizing Nick was sound asleep. I leaned over picking up the remote before realizing it was past midnight by now. I clicked off the TV and slowly got up before walking out of the room.

I sighed as I closed the door slowly. This is where I was meant to be. Nick's best friend and not the girl who has feelings for his brother. Or at least trying to not having feelings for.

I closed my eyes before rubbing my eyes and walking over to my room.

No more anxiety because no more feelings for Chris. If anything this would make my life better, not having to worry about my feelings along with the rest of my issues.

I opened my door before turning off the lights and climbing into bed. I needed sleep. I craved sleep. As i closed my eyes I heard my door being swung open and the licks being flipped on.

I sat up and turned towards the door, seeing Chris standing there with a huge bag and then throwing it on the floor. I just stared at him.

"Chris what the fuck are you doing?" I asked glaring up at him. He let out a breath.

"Clothes" He pointed to the bag. I looked down at the bag and then up at him. "What?" I asked shaking my head. He looked down at the bag.

"You're clothes, I got them from your house and a couple books too. I also found some shampoo under your sink if you needed that, I didn't know if you were tired of using our 3-in-1" He said looking over at me. I just blinked at him before standing up and picking up the bag and looking through it.

I looked back up at him as he watched me. “What-What about my mom?” I asked stuttering as I looked at him. How did he go into my house and face my mother?

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it” he said putting his hands into the pocket of his sweats. I let out a breath, setting down the bag. I glanced over to him.

“Thank you” I smiled. He pressed his lips together and nodded. I just looked at him. No. No. No. y/n.“I’m sorry” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. I swallowed looking down at my hands.

“For what?” My voice hitched, knowing he had more than one thing to apologize for. He sighed stepping forward, making me look at him. He reached up to touch my face, but his hand froze as he put it back down to his sides. He sighed looking down.

“For more than you know” he said looking down at me. I blinked at him feeling the tension in the air, thick and hard. I swallowed aw he looked down at me.

He sighed before turning and starting to walk out. “You’re still the smartest person I’ve ever met” he said turning and looking at me, with a sad smile. My face dropped as the memories from last night came flooding into my brain.

“You're more than enough. You're like the smartest person I've ever met"

I opened my mouth to say something but nothing out. He bit his lip before turning and leaving me alone, again.

I closed my eyes shaking my head before turning and kicking the stupid bag of clothes. I shook my head and put my hands on his head.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to march my ass into his room and smack him so hard in the face. I wanted to tell him to stop messing with me. To stop doing this to me.

He’s stringing me along at a pace I can’t keep up with. I keep getting tripped underneath my feet and then he turned around and picks me back up.

I leaned down picking up a book out of the pile of clothes.

Magnolia parks university by Jessa Hastings

I sighed. My favorite book. I turned towards the door he just walked through. How would he know that? There’s no way he knew that. It was just a coincidence. Right?

The next few days were hazy I’m being honest. I attempted to avoid Chris by hiding in my room forcing Nick to bring me food every now and then.

He hasn’t questioned my lack of activity or the lack of being able to get out of bed. He just excepted the fact that I was going through what I was going through and let me be me.

I heard a small knock at my door and set down my phone seeing Nick looking at me with a smile. I raised my eyebrows as I watched him walk over to my bed and lay down beside me.

“You look happy” I said looking down at my smiling best friend. He sighed turning over on his back. “I think I’m gonna ask Holton to be my boyfriend” he said looking up at the ceiling. I sat up.

“Are you sure? I mean you guys have only been going out like a month” I said looking down at him with furrowed eyebrows. He glanced up at me and shrugged. “I don’t know I’ve been thinking about it. I like him and he likes me so why not try it out?” He sighed.

“Nick you are trying it out right now. You’re going on dates that how you see if you want to date someone. Making it official is like a huge step” I said shaking my head. He sat up looking at me.

“I know it’s a huge step y/n, why do you think I’m asking you about it?” He asked looking at me. “I just think it’s too soon, I mean Nick this would be your first boyfriend. Don’t you think you should give it a little more thought? I mean I haven’t even met the guy yet” I asked looking at him. Scared the death that he was gonna get hurt.

His face hardened.

“I told you I have given it thought. I came to you thinking you would support me on this” He glared at me. I sighed really not wanted to fight with him over this.

“Nick I want to support you on this I just don’t want to see you get hurt” I sighed. “That’s life y/n. When you like someone, you go for it and yeah I might get hurt, but I might not. I have to try. If I never went after what I was feeling I would be sitting in my room overthinking everything he’s said to me. I like him y/n. I cant just let that go” he breathed.

“Nick” I sighed. He held up his hands. “No” he shook his head. “Just because you’ve never been in a relationship doesn’t mean that you can stop me from being in one” he said harshly. I let out a breath.

“Nick that’s not fair. That’s not what I’m saying-“ I breathed. He stood up shaking his head. “You’re not in the business to be giving relationship advice when you don’t know the first thing about a relationship” he said above me. I swallowed feeling his words in my chest. Wow that fucking hurt.

“Nick” I sighed looking up at him. He just shook me off. “No I have plans with Holton, and you know what? I am going to ask him to be my boyfriend and he’s gonna say yes” he scoffed before turning and leaving the room.

I sighed leaning my head against my knees. Wow I felt like shit. Nick and I rarely fight and fighting with him right now was the last thing I wanted to do. It was the absolute last thing I needed to be dealing with right now.

I turned over feeling tears come back to my eyes. Now a famailr feeling that I hated. I was so helpless and I hated it. I hated feeling helpless, but that's all that I felt through my body.

I felt like I constantly needed comfort. I have never felt that way in my entire life. I swallowed closing my eyes at the thoughts. I hated myself for what I was about to do, but i didn't know another option.

I picked up my phone.

to: chris sturniolo

are you up?

I sighed closing my eyes already feeling the guilt wash over me again. I blinked down at the phone after a few minutes, seeing no response. God, I shouldn't have sent it. That was such a mistake. I wanted to delete it. No, I wanted to delete myself. Find Nick and apologize.

My phone buzzed. I sat up looking down at it.

from: chris sturniolo

yes why what's up?

I swallowed. I could say never mind. I could just not respond. But we both know that I'm not strong enough to do that.

to: chris sturniolo

can you come in here please?

I bit my lip as I saw the three dots pop up.

from: chris sturniolo

y/n. why

I shook my head, feeling the tears pool again threatend to spill over for what felt like the millienth time today. I was desperate.

to: chris sturniolo

chris please i'm begging.

He typed.

from: chris sturniolo

you don't have to beg, i'm coming

I closed my eyes, leaning back against the headboard as I waited for Chris. A few seconds later he peeked his head in and walked in. His face immediatly softened when he saw my face.

"Hey, what's going on?" He asked quietly as he walked into the door, slowly closing the door behind him. I sighed looking at my lap shaking my head. He walked over to me sitting on the bed next to me.

"Hey, look at me" He whispered. I looked up at him as he scanned my face with his eyes, trying to understand why I was upset. I swallowed and closed my eyes.

"Do you think I'm a bad friend?" I asked quietly blinking my eyes open. He furrowed his eyebrows looking at me. "What?" He asked quietly back. I sighed leaning my head back.

"Do you think I'm a bad friend?" I asked again. Chris stayed silent next to me. I turned my head towards him as he looked at me. "I know that we're not-" I stopped shaking my head.

"But to Nick-" I sighed feeling my eyes swell again. "Hey" He whispered pulling me into him. I let out a shaky breath as he wrapped his arms around me. I breathed in his scent, feeling his embrace.

"I don't think you're a bad friend y/n" He sighed from above me. I glanced up at him. "Don't cry" He whispered wiping under my eyes. I wiped my nose and sighed.

"Nick told me he wanted to ask Holton to be his boyfriend" I explained. I closed my eyes. "And I told him I was worried it was too soon and I didn't want to see him get hurt and he got so mad and-and-" I choked. Chris rubbed my arm with his hands that were around me.

"Hey, hey, hey" He said softly. I looked up at him. "You're not a bad friend. A bad friend would agree with everything he ever said, and you don't. That makes you an amazing friend" He breathed looking down at me. I bit my lip, trying to believe him.

"You're in a senestive place right now y/n, you're not a bad friend. You're just in your head. You know Nick, he's probably just scared and deflecting it onto you. It's not your fault. You just have to let him come to you" He said smiling down at me.

I nodded sitting up, him releasing his arms. I let out a heard breath before wiping the tears from my eyes away. I glanced over at him and he was looking at me.

"I'm sorry, I'm just scared. I can't lose Nick, he's the last person I have left" I sighed shaking my head. Chris paused before nodding slowly. I layed back against the pillows beneath us.

"I feel like i've driven away every person In my life" I shook my head, looking up. "I can't do the same to him" I whispered, glancing at Chris for looking down at me.

"You're parents don't count. Y/n you don't deserve to think that it was your fault they left" He breathed. I just blinked up at him, before furrowing my eyebrows.

"Why did you lie?" I said barley above a whisper. He blinked down at me for a second before sighing and leaning down, laying next to me, crossing his arms over his chest. I just looked at him, as he stared up at the ceiling above us.

"I don't know" He whispered. I just watched him. "I can't tell you" He said looking over at me. I shook my head. "Why not?" I asked feeling like I deserved to know why he hurt me when he didn't have to.

"Because then I'd have to kill you" He said scrunching his nose and then cracking a smile. I rolled my eyes smiling, pushing his shoulder making him chuckle softly. "I hate you" I sighed rolling over and laying on my side looking at him.

He rolled over matching my position as he looked back at me.

"I shouldn't have lied, I'm sorry. It was shitty, I didn't mean to make you cry" He whispered looking at me. I cringed closing my eyes now knowing he saw me start to cry. Embarrassment flooded my body. I blinked my eyes open and he was still looking at me.

"It wasn't you" I lied. "Yes it was" He said back. I bit my lip. "Do you think we could ever be friends?" I asked softly. He blinked at me, as if he were thinking my question over.

"No" He stated. I just looked at him. "I don't think I could ever be just your friend" He whispered. I closed my eyes feeling his response through my entire body. Why was I like this? Why did I do this to myself? Why did I constantly put myself in the same position.

"Y/n"

I opened my eyes, while he just looked at me. "Yeah?" I whispered after a few seconds of silence. He glanced over my face, swallowing. I wasn't going to move, I was waiting for him to. He sighed closing his eyes breifly before leaning over and putting his hand on my cheek pulling my lips to his.

I sighed from relief when our lips finally touched like a breath of fresh air into my lungs. His lips moved over mine slowly as he moved his mouth in accordance to mine. Our lips moved together in an unrushed manner.

I moved my leg over to straddle him, but he pushed my leg down and disconnected his lips from mine, sighing.

“Y/n” he said turning and looking back up at the ceiling. I just stared down at him, not believing he just stopped me. I scoffed shaking my head grabbing his attention. He glanced over at me.

I sat up shaking my head. “Y/n, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-“ he started to speak another excuse of why he fucked up and why he kissed me and why he shouldn’t have, but I wasn’t going to heard it anymore.

“Stop” I held my hand up silencing him. He stopped talking. I peered down at him. “Kiss me or get out” I breathed harshly. His face turned confused as he looked up at me.

“You’ve been doing this to me for a month now Chris and I’m fucking tired of it. You’re spinning me around in circles chasing after something and then you hang it in front of me before just yanking it away” I explained shaking my head. He just listened.

“I’m getting seasick over here” I sighed looking over at him. He bit his lip. “So you don’t have to sit here and apologize for this or that or whatever the fuck you think you need to apologize for, because I’m not really sure you even believe you anymore” I said closing my eyes.

“So I’m not going to sit here and ask you if you like me or if you don’t. I’ve have a hard enough week as it is, so-“ I finsihed looking over at him. He stared up at me.

“Either kiss me. Or get out” I said again not breaking eye contact. He blinked at me for a few seconds before hanging his head. I closed my eyes looking down. Great.

I shook my head as I started to throw the blankets off of me to get up, but I felt him grab my arm, pulling me back over to him, before pinning me below him and hovering over top of me. I stared up at him in shock as he peered down at me with dark eyes.

So dark I couldn’t even see the blue anymore.

“Don’t talk to me like that ever again” he said before grabbing my arms and pinning them above my head and attaching his lips to mine roughly. Leaving me completely helpless under him, not that I was even before he kissed me anyway.

.....did you like the long chapterrr???

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pastanest · 9 months

Text

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: inspired by this post by @shy-taylorsversion !! hope you like it sweet! ♡

warnings: references to Maeve but nothing too specific

I Can See You

It was as though fate herself was playing the cruellest joke in human history, the day you joined the team. Spencer’s heart was beyond scarred, it had been locked away under every wall he knew how to craft within himself, for his own safety. And yet, with no more than a glance, you began to disarm him.

The team spotted the sparks almost before Spencer did, in the way they acknowledged that he reached to shake your head in greeting; a gesture he typically avoided at all cost. It was the wide eyes from his chosen family that made Spencer realize his body had acted on its own accord, without any consideration for his mind, or heart.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, uh, pleasure to meet you.” He had cleared his throat in his attempts to hold your gaze, a task he had not anticipated to be anywhere near as challenging as it turned out to be.

And the way you had smiled at him? That was the first splinter, in the very first wall that surrounded Spencer’s heart.

It was not drastic enough for Spencer to notice right away, and by the time that he did, it was too late. Anyone would think your moves to be calculated, but the worst part of it was that Spencer could see that your actions and words were completely without ulterior motive.

It is simply who you are, much to a genius’s absolute dismay.

Naturally, Spencer tried to deduce exactly what this immediate connection was on the very first meeting. He sat at his desk with a concentrated frown, and within 15 seconds, he had formed a hypothesis: it was a basic biological attraction, something found in primal creatures, not civilised beings, and certainly not ones with three PhD’s, but if he had to admit that he had animalistic desires on occasion, that was favored over this meaning anything more. With a satisfied nod, he rose from his desk and tried his very best to continue with his day.

He had ventured down the hall of the BAU office, with the intention of retrieving some files he needed to work on, and he was determined to not even remotely acknowledge that you were walking down the very same hallway, in the opposite direction. He did not notice your hair, or your eyes, or the way you walked, the softness found in your smile, and his eidetic memory had definitely not stored each and every detail.

Aaron Hotchner was giving you a tour of the office, Spencer surmised; he absolutely did not strain his every thought to tuning into the conversation in an effort to learn more about the wonder that was you. The width of the hallway allowed for you and Spencer to pass each other without any contact whatsoever, but when your gaze lifted to catch his, neither of you made any effort to increase the distance between you. Instead, you had smiled at him - again, his heart skipped a beat as it reminded him - and the two of you walked, neither one hearing Hotch’s continuing tour of the office as you neared each other. Then your sleeve brushed his. The contact was gone as quickly as it had arrived, but Spencer knew he had goosebumps beneath his suit jacket, and he couldn’t help wondering when he looked over his shoulder to find you doing the same, your eyes locking once again; did you feel it, too?

Only once safely behind the front door of his own apartment, could Spencer Reid regain the ability to think straight. It was foolish, he told himself. A workplace romance? He shook his head as he shrugged off his suit jacket, his gaze lingering momentarily on the sleeve you had brushed against. There was no substance to it, Spencer’s objective brain enforced, need you be reminded of the statistics surrounding workplace entanglements? It was simply the proximity; he had never worked with someone he found so physically attractive before, that was all this was. His mind just needed to adjust to your presence. His eyes were just latching onto the most attractive sight they could find, after forcibly reliving the loss of the love of his life. This was not love, Spencer concluded, it felt nothing like what he had felt for Maeve. The physical weight of the anxiety and stress he had experienced, the secrecy, the pain; all of that was missing, and that was what Spencer understood love to be.

This was foolish, he reminded himself. As of tomorrow, he would put a stop to this, whatever this was.

Spencer walked into the BAU office with newfound purpose the following morning, prepared to focus on his work and nothing else, which would not be a difficult task. Not in the slightest. He was a professional, after all, and you-

“Good morning, Spencer!”

You were already sitting at your desk, and you were smiling at him - the very same smile that Spencer had noticed you had not given anyone else on your first day.

And, like a fool, Doctor Spencer Reid’s eidetic memory jettisoned his previously formed plan of nipping whatever this was in the bud, and instead, he smiled right back at you.

It would be fair to say that he has been a lost cause ever since. His mind has crafted a permanent residence for you, where thoughts of you swirl at a constant rate, and he has allowed such a heinous development; shocking, really. The worst part? Spencer has managed to maintain professionalism, because everything between you is mostly unsaid. It is longing glances, lingering smiles, subtle touches that nobody else would notice; save for the team of profilers that you both happen to work with everyday. You have found your footing within said team and formed fast friends, almost like you had always been part of said team, but you were still such a new and pleasant sight to Spencer each and everyday. You had not seen him through any emotional turmoil, you saw him as he was from when you knew him, and you liked what you saw, in the same way that he liked what he saw in you. There was a mutual understanding, a reciprocated tension that you were equally, acutely aware of.

By now, Spencer knows that when he says something particularly clever, he need only glance at you from the corner of his eye to find you already looking at him with stars in your eyes. By now, you are accustomed to trying to beat Spencer into the office each and every morning, because whoever arrives first will prepare the other’s choice of beverage for the morning, which will be left on their desk in time for the other’s arrival, without a word, but with a complete understanding. By now, the rest of the team are used to sharing eyerolls and exasperated sighs as they watch you and Spencer dance around each other in such a ridiculous, but still undeniably sweet way.

You are something new to Spencer. He doesn’t have to overthink about your safety outside of dangerous cases, he doesn’t have to worry about where he stands with you, because one look is enough to reassure him. Whatever this is, it is something different. It brings about a relief to the stress of the job; the same peace a hot bath would provide, Spencer finds in every smile you give him.

But, at its core, this is unsaid. The layers to it are secret, even with what the team are able to infer from what they can see.

While his brain is focussed on the case at hand, that same little space in Spencer’s mind is alive with thoughts of you. Today, he has been tasked with working the geographical profile with Blake, who is obviously very aware of what is forming between you and Spencer, but elects to say very little about it, given how sensitive the topic could be to Spencer’s still raw heart. That said, she can’t help noticing or smiling at the way Spencer’s gaze continually drifts to the door of the small office within the local police department that they have been working all day, as though willing you to walk through it.

“I’m sure the interviews are going well.” Blake chooses her words carefully, referring to what you have been tasked with, rather than you directly, in an effort to perhaps allow Spencer to open up, just a little.

He frowns at this, trying to convey confusion as he refocusses his gaze on the maps in front of him, running his fingers over them.

“(Y/N) is very good. Knowing her, she’ll come in here in a few minutes saying ‘don’t worry, guys, case closed, we can all go home because there’s a rerun of Doctor Who that I can’t miss’.” Blake tries again, this time using a joke referencing a shared interest of yours and Spencer’s, which pulls the desired smile from him, though he doesn’t lift his eyes from the maps.

A moment of silence passes, in which Spencer considers his own words with equal care, before he decides to respond to what he feels is the most important section of Blake’s last sentence.

“She is…very good.”

Feeling somewhat reassured by Blake’s words in a strange way, in her validating the obvious chemistry between you and Spencer, he finds it easier to continue to working. Of course, he still glances at the door out of habit, wishing for no more than a glimpse of you walking past it, if that’s all he’s allowed for now, but he is focussed on his work. He is a professional, after all.

That is, until his ears - finely tuned to deciphering your voice even in a sea of others - pick up on a distressed tone from you. While the wall between you prevents him from being able to piece together any words, the discomfort he can hear is enough to bring Spencer up from his seat.

“I need to update Hotch on some details of the geographical profile that could assist with the interviews he’s conducting.” Spencer blurts out hurriedly, picking up a random case file without looking at it before rushing out of the room, once again not mentioning you by name, but making his intentions crystal clear to Blake.

She doesn’t question anything, but there’s a knowing smile on her face.

Spencer is out of the door in an instant, his eyes locking onto you a few feet down the hallway, seemingly caught in an uncomfortable exchange with a local police officer. The way your arms are crossed over your chest is enough for Spencer to understand exactly what is going on, and when your gaze gravitates to him, he sees you visibly relax, a soft smile spreading across your face. The local cop continues his attempts at sweet talking you, until he sees your expression and follows your gaze, seeing Spencer stood down the hall with a case file in hand and a frown that could challenge Aaron Hotchner’s. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the local police officer skulks off, and you breathe a sigh of relief, walking over to Spencer and smiling up at him.

“Find anything?” You ask him, gesturing to the case file in his hands, which is now crumpled in his almost white knuckles.

“What? Oh, no, I just- you sounded uncomfortable.” Spencer babbles, his mind shifting from a possessive fury that he’s never previously held for anyone, before settling into a peace that only the subject of that possessive streak can bring.

“I was. Thank you for saving the day, as always.” You smile up at him, and with a rush of confidence, you make a gesture of standing on your tiptoes to kiss Spencer’s cheek as you pass him, and his brain short-circuits.

It takes a whole three seconds for Spencer to regain his 187 IQ points, at which time he looks over his shoulder to find you at the other end of the hallway, mirroring his action with a beaming grin. He stays still - mainly because his brain has not recovered enough for him to trust his ability to walk - but his mind conjures up a beautiful daydream of him strolling right up to you, pushing you up against the wall and kissing you until both of you collapse from lack of oxygen. His hands holding your face, your hands in his hair, his body pressed against yours, holding you up against the wall as your knees attempt to buckle under the weight of what would be the most passionate kiss in human history, Spencer is more than certain of that.

“Are you coming, pretty boy?” You call out to him, abruptly forcing him back into the present.

An interesting choice of words, considering.

“Where?” Spencer asks you, in turn, a smile playing on his lips.

“Lunch!” You state, like it’s obvious.

Spencer glances at his watch, bemused. “It’s 3pm!”

You shrug, but your smile is widening as the amusement grows. “Yep, and I haven’t had lunch, so, you coming?”

Spencer rolls his eyes and refrains from giving you yet another lecture on remembering to take a scheduled lunch break to ensure you have the amount of energy required for maximum efficiency while on the job - which is, obviously, his way of reminding you to eat regularly because he cares about you, not because he cares about your ‘maximum efficiency on the job’.

He quickly pokes his head through the door to the little office, tossing the crumpled case file back on the table where he had previously been sitting.

“Just going to get lunch.” Spencer tells Blake, and she raises an eyebrow.

“Lunch? At 3pm?” She questions, much like he had, and that only makes him smile again.

It isn’t just a smile, though. It’s a bright, wide grin that takes up Spencer’s whole face, making the corners of his eyes crease, and then he disappears without a word, because his expression is explanation enough.

As silly, and as common as it is, after having lunch with you, Spencer’s smile is unwavering for the rest of the day. Yours is too, resulting in both of you receiving teasing remarks from the members of the team that you have been working with, away from each other in the hours that have passed since.

By the time Spencer shuts himself in his own hotel room for the night, his mind is fried, and as a consequence, he cannot withhold thoughts of you to that one corner of his brain. Instead, he sees you standing in the middle of his hotel room, walking up him with a smirk he’s seen time and time again in his dreams. He feels your palms on his chest through his shirt, loosening his tie as his lips ghost yours. His shoulders rolling as you help him take off his suit jacket, discarding it on the floor before his lips fall on yours. And he can see you waiting for him on his hotel room bed, as though you were really there, and had already been there a thousand other times, on a hundred other nights. Oh, how he wishes.

Shaking his head, Spencer forces himself back into the present, into the newly depressing sight of his otherwise empty hotel room. He removes his suit jacket with a bitter expression, knowing you would do it so much better, but alas.

Realizing there is absolutely no way he can sleep in this state, Spencer rolls up the long sleeves of his button-up shirt, kicks his shoes off, and settles in the armchair in the corner of his hotel room. He retrieves his favorite copy of ‘War And Peace’ and decides to reread it to unwind. Just a bit of light reading.

That is, until approximately 10 minutes - and just under halfway through the book - later, when there is an unexpected knock at the door.

Deciding to place ‘War And Peace’ on the physical bedside table and mental backburner, Spencer rises from the armchair and crosses the threshold of his hotel room. The moment he opens the door, his heart leaps right out of his chest.

There you are, in your pajamas, hugging your laptop close to your chest with a smile that Spencer wholeheartedly believes could persuade any man to do anything and everything for you.

“‘The Impossible Planet’ and ‘The Satan Pit’ were rerunning tonight, and we haven’t finished the case in time to watch them, so…” You lift your laptop in a wordless gesture, stars shining in your eyes, and Spencer Reid has to seriously consider whether this is a dream.

His perfect girl, arriving at his door because she wants to watch Doctor Who with him? Surely, fate jests.

“You are an impossible girl.” Is all Spencer can manage to say, a smirk on his face when he sees the recognition in your eyes at his own Doctor Who reference.

“Ooh, you can’t say things like that to a girl, Doctor!” You giggle, knowing you’ve got him right back with a reference of your own.

With that, Spencer invites you into his hotel room, and just like so many times before, you fall asleep with your head on his chest as the end credits roll on your laptop screen, an ever encouraging score from Murray Gold being the soundtrack to Spencer’s longing glance down at you as he brushes your hair away from your face. With a kiss to your forehead and one arm holding you in place, he turns off your laptop and sets it down beside the bed, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you to him in a gesture of affection that was foreign to him before you, but is now second nature.

Spencer never understood what it was to fall asleep with a smile on his face, until he started falling in love with you.

By the time the team is boarding the jet home, you are all beyond exhausted, but relieved in equal measure. Another case closed, another life saved, and another trip home. As opposed to the typical night flights you tend to catch, Penelope managed to secure the jet in time for everyone to be on their way home by midday. So, instead of a silent jet occupied by sleeping FBI agents, Hotch is living vicariously through Rossi and Derek’s latest tales of seduction, you are gossipping with JJ, and at the other end of the jet, perfectly in your line of sight, Spencer is sitting with Blake, unable to resist glancing over at you every so often.

Blake has that same knowing smile on her face, picking up on more than the rest of the team has, given the almost maternal bond she has formed with Spencer, and she decides that this time, she’s going to speak less carefully.

“Spencer, what is the statistical likelihood of history repeating itself?” She asks pointedly, but quietly.

Spencer frowns. “Well, that depends on a number of variables. Technically, it would be impossible to provide an exact statistic, because there are an infinite number of possibilities at every point in every sequence of events that there can ever be, but for history to repeat itself in a direct pattern, it would be incredibly unlikely. Why do you ask?” He rambles, very much enjoying this question, this challenge to his analytical mind.

“Have you ever asked a girl out before?” Blake answers Spencer’s own question with a question, something she has previously reprimanded him for.

And Blake’s question is enough to freeze a genius in his tracks.

He doesn’t have to think about it, he knows the answer, but his confusion and shock makes that one word difficult.

“No.” Spencer says after a moment’s pause.

“Then, to reduce your own anxieties surrounding history repeating itself, why don’t you change that and create an entirely new chain of events for yourself?” Blake suggests, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

As always, she knows exactly what advice he needs to hear. Blake is right, if Spencer does ask you out, what’s unfolding between you and him will truly be unlike anything he has ever experienced before, meaning it cannot possibly end in the same way, the same tragedy cannot befall him if he takes the path he has been so afraid of treading.

“How?” Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper, because he’s vulnerable now. He needs help from a friend, a friend he trusts with a situation that is as precious to him as this.

Grateful that he’s taking her advice on board instead of dismissing it, Blake nods, leaning forward in her seat on the jet.

“Do whatever feels right to you, because it’s you, exactly as you are, that (Y/N) smiles at like that.” Blake says simply, sitting back in her seat and watching as Spencer’s gaze flickers to you again, knowing from the look in his eyes that he’s just received that very smile from you, and that is the only encouragement he needs.

Nodding to himself, Spencer stands up and rushes to the jet kitchen, walking past you and brushing your sleeve with his as he does.

From where you sit with JJ, you can’t help glancing over your shoulder at Spencer, curious as to what he’s doing in the jet kitchen and why he’s trying so very hard to hide whatever it is that he is doing.

No more than a few seconds later, Spencer walks past you again, returning to his own seat at the other end of the jet, but not without very discreetly dropping a small, folded piece of paper into your lap. With a smirk, JJ turns away to look out of the jet window, granting you some privacy as you unfold the piece of paper, your hands trembling ever so slightly as you scan over the page, and Spencer’s own shaky handwriting.

“Meet me tonight?”

Grinning, you lift your eyes from the note and to its sender, who is already staring at you with a mixture of hope and anticipation in varying shades of hazel. From across the jet, you nod at him, and he nods back at you, biting back a disbelieving chuckle as he looks down at his lap shyly, avoiding your eyes.

You want to ask when, where, and how he wants to meet you tonight, but the excitement within the unknown is even better. For the rest of the flight home, you and Spencer exchange expressions of yearning that exceed even your usual standards, and it’s very clear that whatever this is, it’s about to come to a head.

When the jet lands back in Quantico, the team rise from their seats and stretch their limbs, retrieving their overnight bags and heading for the door. You and Spencer fall back in a silent understanding, and he wraps his large hand around yours to take your bag and swing it over his shoulder, giving you one of his signature charming smiles and ridding you of every coherent thought you’ve ever had in the process. With his hand free once again, his fingertips graze yours as you step out of the jet and head back into the office, sparks flying to such a severity, Spencer considers alerting the pilot of a problem with the jet engine.

Much to your mutual dismay, the team is tasked with case reports the second they set foot into the office again, given it is not officially the end of a working day and there is no better time to complete a report than when the case is still fresh in your mind; not everyone has an eidetic memory. And so, your equally yearning glances continue, this time from across the office, as the hours tick by and the anticipation between you grows.

As the hours tick by, Spencer grows restless. He checks his watch, and debates with himself as to whether 6pm can be considered ‘tonight’, before he decides he no longer cares for such technicalities. With his legs bouncing beneath his desk, he quickly writes out another note, then picks up a case report and practically flies over to your desk, dropping the piece of paper on your keyboard before walking out of the glass doors and round the corner, down a hallway that takes him - begrudgingly - out of your sight.

Confused and excited once again, you open the scrunched up note and scream internally.

“Please follow me in 10 seconds and bring your case report - doesn’t matter if it’s finished.”

You stare up at the clock on the office wall, counting the slowest ten seconds of your life, and then the gravity of Spencer pulls you from your desk to fulfill your secret mission. Clutching your incomplete case report to your chest, you try to walk past your coworkers desks as casually as you can, but you can’t help feeling that the room of profilers that surround you are acutely aware of every little tell. You wouldn’t be surprised if they can hear the irregularity in your heartbeat right now.

With trembling hands, you reach for the handle of the glass door and push through it, rounding the corner and immediately freezing on the spot. Halfway down the hallway, Spencer leans against the wall, his case report hanging from his hand loosely at his side, his other hand in a tense fist in front of him as he frowns down at his watch.

As though sensing you, Spencer’s head turns, and when he sees you, he sighs deeply.

“12.5 seconds. I thought you might not be coming.” He says quietly, his words soft and his relief palpable.

An interesting choice of words, considering.

“Sorry, I tried to walk slowly, didn’t want to give anything away.” You explain, your voice as quiet as Spencer’s had been, the distance between you already closing on its own accord.

He shakes his head, but his eyes never leave yours. “No need to apologize. I’m certain they’ll know something’s going on, even with our efforts.”

You can’t help chuckling at that, nodding up at him as he walks closer and begins to tower over you, all words suddenly losing their meaning. In what can only be described as a silent, instinctual mating dance between two equally besotted creatures, with each step Spencer takes towards you, you take a step backwards until your back gently hits the wall, your gazes locked in an indescribable heat, lost in a tension that cannot be defined in any kind of eloquence.

Case report still hanging loosely between Spencer’s index finger and thumb, he closes the space between you until there are only centimeters separating your face and his. With each inhale, you taste each other, smell each other, feel each other closer than ever before, and the primal attraction that Spencer had been foolish enough to believe he was too rigidly sophisticated to ever experience slaps him in the face with a rather rude awakening, but it is a welcome one. His curls touch the skin of your forehead, and you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself, but when Spencer’s free hand moves between your bodies to uncurl one of your hands from its fierce grip on the incomplete case report you clutch to your chest, to place your palm flat against his shirt, over his heart, you forget your own name.

“You know, researchers from the University of Chicago analyzed people’s eye movements as they viewed black and white photos of both couples and attractive strangers to judge whether the people they saw were eliciting feelings of sexual desire or romantic love, and the results revealed an interesting pattern; when the subjects judged a stranger as depicting feelings or romantic love, their eyes stayed fixed on the stranger’s face. However, when the subjects felt the photo was exuding sexual desire, their eyes strayed over the rest of the stranger’s body. The co-author of the research said that by identifying eye patterns that are specific to love-related stimuli, the study may contribute to the development of a biomarker that differentiates feelings of romantic love versus sexual desire, and an eye-tracking model may offer a new avenue of diagnosis for routine clinical exams in psychiatry and/or couple therapy.” Spencer rambles, bringing an enamored smile from you that makes his heart sing. You are always so interested in every single thing he has to say; where others roll their eyes and cut him off, you listen, and you adore him for exactly who he is.

“The reason that I’m telling you this,” Spencer continues, “-is because scientists found that the subject’s judgment can occur in just half a second, suggesting the way we categorize whether we feel lust or love for new people is innately automated.” He wets his lips with his tongue.

“Is this your sciencey way of telling me that, despite it typically being perceived as illogical, you believe in love at first sight? That’s quite controversial for a man who is so often analytically inclined.” You muse thoughtfully, your smile unwavering as you look up at him.

“I didn’t. Not until three months, four days, 9 hours, 12 minutes and-” Spencer checks his watch before meeting your eyes again, “-27 seconds ago.”

You cannot believe Spencer is daring to ask your brain to perform what is nothing short of a miracle in the form of basic mathematics when his lips are almost touching yours.

“You mean…when I…” You can barely form words.

“At the exact moment when you walked into the office on your first day, yes.” Spencer nods, his forehead brushing yours.

The palm that is still pressed to Spencer’s chest through his shirt moves to feel his tie, as though holding onto something for support while the Earth beneath your feet shifts and he is the only thing keeping you here; which, in fairness, he very well might be.

Quite suddenly, the tension between you is suffocating, having long surpassed boiling point, and your breaths are as shallow as his.

The case report held between Spencer’s index finger and thumb is hanging by a metaphorical thread, his other hand lifting to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips caressing your cheek as he drinks you in.

“Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?” He whispers, the boldest words he has ever spoken.

“Yes.” You breathe, without missing a beat, and Spencer does not waste another second.

In one swift motion, the case report falls to the floor, both of his hands coming to cup your face as his lips take yours, your hands holding his to keep him there. Spencer’s body presses into you, acting on a primal instinct that goes beyond his understanding, kissing you like a man starved of physical affection all his life, and there’s far more truth in that than he cares to admit. When one of your hands reaches for his messy curls, Spencer sighs into the kiss, lowering his hands to grab at your waist, squeezing your hips gently. The kiss is its own infinity lived and shared, the two of you only parting for air, but your bodies remaining intertwined, the sound of your heavy breaths echoing down the hallway until you’re both laughing, your foreheads pressed together and an insurmountable love in your eyes.

What this is, is different. You don’t know every detail of Spencer’s past or pain, in the same way that he is yet to know yours, but you have every intention to learn about each other, with this as your foundation. This, without the physical weight of anxiety and stress, with a different kind of secrecy, and free of pain; this is a mutual understanding, a reciprocated attraction beyond what Spencer thought was possible for someone like him. You are different, different to him, different to every person he has ever known, and he has no doubt that he is much the same when compared to the people in your life, too.

You are different, you are new. You are a breath of fresh air that he will never grow tired of breathing.

And he will always, always see you, in every conceivable way that you’ll allow him to.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #Spotify

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f1version · 5 months

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NEW YEAR'S DAY ‧͙*̩̩͙❅ LH44

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x girlfriend!Reader ( she/her )

summary: New years is always special when you spend it next to those you love the most. That’s why you spend it with Lewis, and Lewis spends it with you.

warnings/info: fluff, midnight kisses, mentions of alcohol, they get a bit drunk. the extra bit has angst!

word count: 951 + an extra scene of 591 (1.5k)

note: so, the end of 2023. that’s so crazy. i’m so thankful for everything really, there’s a paragraph incoming but, yeah, thank you for reading and following along this year. you made a difference <3

btw i recomend listening to the instrumental of new year’s day by taylor swift !!

snowglobe, a holiday special

One minute before midnight. One minute in which people fall anxious, the sound of heels hitting the floor and whispers reciting resolutions over and over is their favorite tune for one minute. In your minute, you see people gather around the terrace of Lewis’ penthouse, stumbling and laughing, the blinding lights of New York lighting up part of their snow-dusted faces. You knew a couple of faces, some interacting with Lewis and you before your minute hit the half-mark.

When you’re upon seconds, you look up at the waiting sky, stars expecting to be overshadowed by something bigger, louder. You can feel the anticipation in the air, spotlights from Times Square moving faster, the echo of people’s excitement drowning the streets.

Fifteen seconds away and you look at the man holding you close. His eyes dart between your eyes and your lips, a smile that could light up the world—and already does—on his lips. I don’t do New Year’s kisses, you remember him saying last year, back when your memories together consisted of clandestine meetings in hotel rooms and longing stares, too afraid to confess.

Perhaps this year is a completely different story, but the same character has his arms wrapped around you. There are changes, so many you can barely count, you wonder if this one will be one too.

“So,” Lewis says, “what a year.”

You smile, leaving a kiss on his cheek before resting your forehead on his. “You finally got the hint,” you whisper and he laughs, bringing you closer just as the insatiable sounds of anxiety start morphing into something discernible.

Ten. Nine.

He lets out a deep breath, “I know what I said last year. About the kisses.”

Eight, they sing as your heart picks up. Seven, and Lewis laughing nervously.

“And I mean it,” he says, “Meant it.”

Six. Five. Four.

You smile as your side of the world lift their glasses of champagne, recording phones, or just bring their loved ones close. It’s a bubble bath of each life trapped in its own delicate bubble.

Lewis smiles back, breathing heavily, “But I want you to be my first New Year's kiss.”

Three, and you laugh, rolling your eyes. Two, “Then kiss me,”

One, and he closes the distance, the so obnoxious world goes silent, and it’s the best kiss he’s ever received. It’s immersive; Your hands play with his braids and his draw shapes on your hips, his heavy breaths fall over your soft ones, and the taste of two different bottles of champagne tempt to be bitter.

The world around you starts echoing in your head, different colors tinting the perfect kiss. People are patting Lewis’ back as he looks at you, ignoring them for a little longer, only wanting to focus on the girl who enchanted him, the one he could hear talk and talk about for hours on end, the one who changed his mind over love and relationships, the one who held his hand through his darkest times. This was all he needed, all he wanted to focus on. On the girl he loves.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you tease, daydream still in his eyes.

He smiles, “Oh, absolutely not”

Then you’re walking around, hand-in-hand wishing a happy New Year to the known and the unknown. He calls his family and you call yours, spending ten minutes together sweet-talking to a very sleepy Roscoe on Lewis’ screen. It’s absurd how fast minutes pass but how slow time moves. You see the crowd fading away, leaving the dance floor empty enough to drag Lewis’ over, dancing away the hectic city under you. It’s a new year, and you can’t warp your head around your luckiness.

By 5:44, everyone is gone. You and Lewis lay down on the couch after drowning 6 shots of Tequila, a strong scent of alcohol and sweat hanging in the air, with glitter all across the floor. You’re holding hands, eyes fixated on the ceiling, drunk and in love. What a wonderful way to start the year, you think.

Lewis moves next to you, standing up a bit disoriented but with determination on his face. “A’right get up,” he says too enthusiastically for almost 6 am, “we have to pick all of this mess.”

You snort, ”Are you crazy?”

“As ever,” he giggles, “Now, get up!”

This man is incredibly drunk, but so are you, so you stand up, your head spinning around each planet you can barely remember. Lewis puts his hands around your hips, holding you in place, “Lew, I feel like I'm going to fall and die. Oh my god!”

“Not true,” the Brit says, “you promised you’d die with me, and I’m not doing that today.”

You roll your eyes at that, laughing.

Cleaning up—if you can call two drunk idiots laughing like crazy while trying to remove a stain of wine from the ceiling that—isn’t as awful. Spotify’s ‘Top Hits of 2023’ is playing in the background as you pick up the plastic cups on the floor, Lewis searching for dirty bottles around the house to then be wrapped around each other while cleaning them. The glittery floor is a lost cause, both try to recollect as much as you can with the broom but give up knowing you’ll be surrounded by it for the rest of the year.

The house looks clean enough in your exhausted eyes by 8 am. Lewis follows you to the bedroom, briefly showering together before dropping under the cloud-like covers, dark curtains forbidding the early sun from disturbing your shortly-approaching sleep.

You are curled up on Lewis’ chest when you hear him say: “Happy New Year, love.”

“Happy New Year, Lew.”

EXTRA BIT!! ( 591 words )

“You know,” Lewis calls, arms wrapped around your body as you lay on his bare chest, “I’ve been thinking, well, overthinking, and I want to, like, get it out.”

He pauses, his anxiety clear in the way he speeds up the tender touches on your back. You look up at him, making a small motion of encouragement. He smiles.

“Half of the people today were strangers, friends of friends, and it reminded me that, once, you were a friend of friends. I don’t really know where I’m going with this, but I don’t want us to be like that ever again,” he says, stumbling on words. “I don’t want to call you a stranger; I’ve done that with enough people I’ve loved—not in the way I love you, but loved nonetheless. I’m just so sorry I was so late to this,” he whispers, and you want to interrupt, reminding him that you also played into it, but he talks first: “I know you were also scared to tell me; you don’t have to say it, but you just didn’t deserve all that waiting.”

You search for his hand, needing to hold it. He understands and wraps one of his around yours, taking a deep breath. He says your name before continuing. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, ever. I was scared because of those stupid things I used to tell myself, and you know the rumors around my last relationship. I was terrified of doing the same thing—being too greedy and distancing myself when things got bad—but I didn’t want to lose you. I do not want to lose you.” Lewis says, and you squish his hand three times, reassuring. You feel another breath being taken. “And I know we are okay; we are so wonderful, sweetheart. You’ve taught me so much, but I can’t stop thinking about the what-ifs. What if we have some inconceivable fight? What if the distance during next season messes with us? What if I screw up and you don’t want to see me ever again?”

“I really don’t want to lose you. I love you too much,” he concludes.

You feel tears crowding your eyes, wondering when did he started thinking about all of this. You sit up, looking down at his beautiful face in the faint darkness. His eyes are so full of emotion, so caring and afraid. You cup his face in your hands, leaning down to peck his lips.

“I love you too, so incredibly much. Thank you for opening up,” you said, knowing it was hard for him to talk about these topics. “But, Lew, trust me when I tell you that, as long as both of us are willing to fight for it, we won’t go back to being strangers. When these types of thoughts are overwhelming you again, talk to me, let me know, and we will discuss them together." He has tears in his eyes, and you are sure yours are already streaming down. “Don’t try to read the last page; whatever is written there can change, and if it doesn’t, who cares? Maybe we are set up to die together, just like I promised you, yeah? I’ll hold your hand through it.”

He brings you down to his arms, giving you the warmest hug in the freezing winter. He cries, and you do too, talking here and there, leaving kisses everywhere, drowning in each other's touches. Lewis believes this is the best start to a year he’s ever had.

taglist — @smartstupyd @ziarah @nouvellevqgue @iloveyou3000morgan @carsgovroomm @goldenalbon @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @panicsinvirgo . . . add yourself here

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oweninadaydream · 6 months

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𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐩𝐭 𝟐 || 𝐅.𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫

𝓼𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂 : Say Don't Go (Taylor's version) (From The Vault) or 4 times you say 'I love you' and Finnick says nothing back.

𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 : Finnick Odair x reader

𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽 : 2k

𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 : angst/fluffy ending i promise, TW: mentions of torture ,anxiety and kidnapping (first story).

𝓪/𝓷 : As promised, here's part 2 of say don't go pt 1 !!! I hope you enjoy the fic!!!

3. 𝓰𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾

You woke up in your bed, yet you could not recall how you got there. Your body felt sore and stiff but nothing could top the way your head was pounding. You were seated against the headboard and you noticed that something wasn’t right ; you couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but you knew deep inside that something was different. To help calm your distress, you tried to remember anything about the day before . You realized right and then that your memory was completely blank, leaving you even more worried than you were prior to that failed attempt.

You had assumed you were all alone, but then you saw Finnick pass through your bedroom door. “Thank God he’s here” you thought, convincing yourself that everything would be alright now that he was there with you (even if you ignored the motivation behind his unexpected visit). He slowly made his way inside and stood in the middle of the room, keeping himself at arm’s length, something extremely unusual that confirmed your gut feeling. Once he had entered your bedroom, you couldn’t help but analyze him and his strange attitude. His movements were robotic as if someone had a remote control that forced him to act like that. His eyes had never been a mystery to you , you could always tell what was going on inside him with a single stare . But this time it was different; he was staring at you with an impassive look that you couldn't quite read, making your whole body tremble in fear and distrust.

You felt intimidated and tried to figure out what was wrong with him “Finn dear, what’s going on?" you asked with a quivering smile. You tried to lift your hand to reach his but ,for some reason, you couldn't. It felt like you were strapped to the mattress and you started panicking, as you couldn't figure out what was happening. Seeking comfort, you pleaded with him in between sobs "I'm very scared Finnick please tell me something, anything. Or just hold me because this is very confusing. I- I feel like- I can't move out of bed, I- I need you"

He simply continued to play his stoic role ; he didn't move one inch before your panic attack or your efforts to set free from the invisible restraints holding you down. "Help me" you whispered with an expression of pure pain on your damped face. Your foggy brain couldn't process the scene before your eyes ; the person who represented love, hope and comfort in your miserable life was being a passive witness to your spectacle of fear and it didn’t seem like he was going to jump into action anytime soon.

You noticed a rapid change in his factions. His eyes burst into flames of hatred and his clenched jaw only accentuated the shift from indifference to hostility. Instead of hurrying to console and aid you like the Finnick you knew would, this empty shell of a man that resembled him broke the distance between you and wrapped his hands around your throat, beginning to strangle you purposefully.

You had been living in survival mode ever since you were chosen as a tribute for District 4 all those years ago, you were no stranger to fighting or death, but never in a million years would you have imagined that the man who swore to shield you from any danger would be the one stealing your breath with his bare hands in an extremely violent manner . You were desperately gasping for air and coughing while he continued to focus on his mission.

For a moment, he seemed to let his hold loose a bit and you took the chance to try and talk him into letting go "Finn, it's me. Why are you doing this?Is anyone making you do this? We take care of each other, remember? I love you more than anything." you told him with a soft but raspy voice as a consequence of his assault. You were tired and wanted to give up, but you continued to fight for him, for your Finn to come back. Apparently, hearing your desperate confession only aggravated the situation, because you felt the strength returning to his hands.

Suddenly, in between your cries and the lack of air , you felt yourself fading away. But before that happened , you heard a very loud scream. In the blink of an eye, you were no longer in your house and Finnick was nowhere to be seen. A white sterile room welcomed you to reality as some doctors accompanied by two peacekeepers entered the room.

Oh, you remember now. You were kidnapped by the Capitol, who had been subjecting you to all kinds of twisted experiments and never-ending abuse for who knows how long. The loud cries and several swear words that made you snap out of that nightmare were Johanna's, whose room was at your right. Peeta was your other neighbor, allowing you to hear them both being tortured at any given time. You looked at your arms and legs and saw the ropes tying you down , justifying the oppressing feeling you had while hallucinating.

The main theme of your punishments for not snitching was him, Finnick Odair. Snow was more than aware of the deep devotion you held for him and how dear you were to him so he figured the perfect torture would be messing with your memories and use several techniques to impose fear and pain in your heart whenever you thought of him or saw his face. That way, you would finally be all alone in this world , scared of the only thing you've ever loved so greatly and he would have to witness you shy away from him in pure terror. To meet his goal, they would drug you and play videos and recordings of him saying the meanest and cruelest words that you knew he would never be able to pronounce, but as the days passed , the truth and the imposed thoughts started to blur in one big and confusing mass.

You were resisting quite well to President Snow's diabolic plan, but you could only hold onto your actual memories for so long. One of the last things you remembered thinking about before you let yourself fall into madness were his eyes, and how much you loved them.

If your suffering assured his survival, you'd tell the Capitol to put you through it a thousand more times , and you would gladly do it again. If only you could have held your sweet Finnick for one more minute before letting him go forever…

4. 𝓪𝓷 𝓸𝓭𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓘 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮

The setting sun turned the white-sanded coast of District 4 a soft but enchanting shade of orange. The waves crashing against the rocks accompanied perfectly the idyllic landscape and brought a sense of calmness to the people assembled there. The summer solstice is a day where usually people celebrate the arrival of a new season, but that was not the case this time.

The beach looked magnificent, Effie had been the chief in charge of making everything (and everyone) look ideal for the occasion that brought them all together on that day. The first rows of white chairs were occupied by Haymitch, Effie, Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and right next to her, there was Mags, the woman who had taken care of you both for so many years and had seen how you two where meant to be from the first time you and your fiancé (soon to be husband) exchanged looks.

Neither you nor Finnick had ever thought about marrying anyone ; under Snow's regime, you were mere pieces of a game with no actual power of decision. But that didn't matter anymore. You were walking towards Finnick, who was nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his suit , waiting for you at the end of the isle. When you finally arrived at your destination, you couldn't help but to turn around and go back to hug Mags, who received you with open arms and a couple of shed tears over her face. After this emotional moment, you went back to Finnick's side "Hi" you whispered so that the conversation could remain secret from all the guests "You come here often?" he teased with a beaming smile on his face. You let out a breathy laugh to relieve some tension and then you both turned so that the ceremony could start.

"I want to keep this vows short because I would need another lifetime just to expose the million reasons why this is the best day of my life. We're free, my love. It's truly over. This is our reward after a whole life of suffering and holding back. I am so in love with you, it's hard to put it into words. You know? Mags once told me that the thing I needed the most had always been right in front of me and I didn't get what she meant by that in that moment. She just laughed at me and told me that I would understand, one of these days" Mags in the front row was a tearful mess "and now I do. I really do" he stated confidently while holding your hands on his.

"My soul craves intertwining itself with yours until there's no way to separate them. So, with this ring" he then proceeded to grab your left hand so cautiously as if you would break at the minimum touch, and slip the golden ring in your finger "I, Finnick Odair, swear to protect, satisfy and devote myself to you ; my friend, my savior and now my spouse. I can't wait to spend the rest of my days with my forever love, which happens to be you" He had always hated to see you cry, even if they were happy tears, so he had to insert a little joke to see you chuckle and be able to hear the most beautiful sound on Earth ; your laugh.

You could sense that your voice would betray you at the minimum attempt to speak, so you needed to rush through your vows before you would explode into tears "God Finnick, you always know how to leave me speechless." the guests all laughed, moved by the evident complicity between the two of you.

"I always knew you were my soulmate, the person I was meant to find. The love I carry for you in my heart used to feel too heavy, but now that I get to set it free, it's more like energy rushing though my whole body, healing all the broken parts. I have the privilege to experience how it feels being loved by you and I want to try and describe it for all our friends who are here today" you breathed in and out and kept talking "Being loved by you feels like being rocked by the sea, like waking up to the smell of freshly baked goods or like being tucked into a warm bed in wintertime. It's exiting, comforting, amusing and an insane amount of other things that I could say right now" you recited while staring at his piercing green eyes that were completely red and filled with tears . You caressed his cheek and tried to wipe them away. "I will always follow you wherever you go, until the end of time. That's what I've always wanted to do and I couldn't be more exited about spending the rest of my life with such a handsome and amazing man. I love you."

Before you could do or say anything else, Finnick held your face between his hand and kissed you like he had been wanting to do since the ceremony started. You said 'I love you' and he said nothing back, but it wasn't so bad this time.

TAGLIST : @bambikitten , @thefourrealms , @shooting-a-star-at-the-moon , @justtrying2getby .

#the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games fanfiction #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

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updownlately · 8 months

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i'm so furious (at you for making me feel this way)

| leah williamson x reader | a little sprinkle of angst, a little hint of fluff | 2.4k | a/n: another req! this one's based off the song 'gorgeous' by taylor swift and as usual, it's not at all proofread. honestly took a completely different direction as i was writing it but eh. to whoever requested it, my bad it took a while- hope you like it! happy reading folks!

~~~

“What? You’re not gonna say ‘hi’?”

Eyes rolling at the cocky voice directed your way, you shook your head slightly, walking faster as you ignored the woman standing in front of you.

You really didn’t have the energy to deal with this now, not after how exhausting your past few days, months, really had been.

Intending on joining the rest of your team at the table without a fuss, you brushed by her without as much as a second glance, letting out a breath as you got away.

Or so you thought.

You didn’t make it more than a couple steps past her before you felt an all too familiar hand wrap around your wrist, your moments stilling at the force.

Huffing, you didn’t bother turning around, instead choosing to speak loudly so you wouldn’t have to look at her.

“Leah, let me go…”

“Stay a minute? Let me buy you a drink.”

You could feel the smirk in her voice as she spoke, it already infuriating you as it had many times before, this time without you even having to see it.

Clenching your jaw, you dropped your voice, still looking straight ahead, nearly empty glass held precariously in your other hand.

“I’m not in the mood to talk.”

Hearing a scoff in response, you made a move to tug your wrist out of her grip, failing to do so as it instead tightened slightly.

“Not in the mood to talk, yet you’re talking to everyone here but me?”

The accusation was followed by a laugh but you knew Leah well enough to know she was anything but joking.

Turning around to meet ocean blue eyes, you pursed your lips as you narrowed your eyebrows, not in the mood for any of the midfielder’s shenanigans.

“Take it as a compliment…”

With that, you twisted your arm sharply, effectively breaking out of her hold as she held your gaze.

“And what would be the compliment exactly? You hate me enough to ignore me?”

You froze slightly as she took a step closer, letting out a shaky breath as her piercing eyes peered into yours.

Swallowing hard, mind racing with memories of when you used to look into these exact pair of eyes fondly, having been teased by your shared teammates thousands of times, you felt your heart tighten slightly, a dull ache making itself known.

Trying to seem nonchalant, you shrugged in response, your slightly intoxicated state causing the following words to slip out of your mouth before you could even think about the consequences.

“That you look so gorgeous it makes me mad you aren’t mine…” You mumbled bitterly.

The ‘anymore’ goes unsaid, but you know she heard it too, her head tilting as a small smile crossed her face.

Despite having broken up nearly a year ago, the blonde hadn’t gotten over you. No matter how many people she had met, dates she had been set up on, times she had been asked out, each and every time the English captain tried to get over you, she had failed miserably, always finding herself comparing her companion for the date to you.

It was getting ridiculous at this point really. Even if she wanted to get over you (spoiler: she didn’t), she couldn’t.

Memories of the way you’d always shoot the blonde a grin, even in the worst of times, and how you’d always beg her for piggyback rides after games unforgettable to Leah.

The countless times you had spent late nights and early mornings together, talking about nothing and everything, bodies curled up against one another as an easy air filled the room.

The innumerable times you had tried (and failed miserably) to teach the blonde how to cook, it always ending up with her banished to sit on the counter as you would try to save the catastrophe she would somehow manage to cause (and later apologise for with infinite cuddles and kisses).

It was all that was on her mind, a piece of her knowing you had been the one, the one she had and then lost.

Months of anxiously waiting for you to even be in the same room had led to tonight, dinner and drinks with your and her national teammates, the two teams having just played a friendly in London. And the blonde would be lying if she denied the fact that she had today’s date saved in her calendar since the game had been scheduled.

“Can’t bear talking to you…” you muttered the words under your breath, mind a frenzy with her perfume infiltrating your senses- the same perfume you always loved smelling on the hoodies you’d steal from her years before.

You watched as Leah’s smile disappeared at your words hushed words, a disappointed look taking over her face at your words, the hurt clearly visible.

Your heart sank as you watched the change. Realising how those words sounded, you quickly began to backpedal. Just because she wasn’t yours anymore didn’t mean you cared any less for her.

Stammering out, you blushed in embarrassment as the words fell from your lips.

And as you did, you wondered if maybe, just maybe, you should’ve stopped after the fourth drink like your friends had suggested.

“Can’t say anything to your face because every time I look at you it makes me furious that I’m not over you yet- that I still feel this way even though you’ve moved on…”

Eyes downcast as you trailed off, you curled slightly in on yourself, self-conscious of the feelings you had make known, the knowledge that they were very much one sided unsettling.

It’s why Leah’s retort caught you off guard, the softly whispered words, quiet enough that you almost missed them, tilting your world on its side.

“Who said I have…”

Whipping your head up, you watched the blonde took a sharp breath in, clearly caught off-guard by her own admission.

Almost believing her for a minute, you shook your head in disagreement.

“Pictures don’t lie Leah…the girl you were with the other day? All cozied up first at a club, then Ibiza?”

“You keep up with me.” The statement was accompanied with a cheeky grin, the other girl avoiding your question completely.

Feeling a smile creep up on you at her cheekiness, you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t believe you were falling for her charm again.

“You know what, you have a point…I’ll stop.” The cold words came out cleanly, nearly emotionless as you did your best to give her nothing to work with.

You didn’t know if you could survive falling for her again, and you didn’t want to find out.

Leah didn’t mind expressing her distaste at your statement however, the protest immediate. “You don’t have to…”

“Oh no but I do- you ruined my life you know?”

You words were emotion laced this time, mind hazy with the alcohol thrumming through your veins, a stark contrast to your sentence before- the anger you had pent up over the past year finally coming to light.

“Me?! How?”

“By loving me and then leaving me…by not being mine!”

“You were the one who left! And she’s just a friend, honest!” The Gunner put her hands up in the air, a genuine expression on her face.

Taking a quick glance behind you and then Leah, you made sure none of your teammates were eavesdropping, well aware of their tendency to blow things out of proportion.

It’s not like your relationship had been a secret, but you had just never bothered to confirm anything with anyone, too content in your own little bubble to let anyone else take a peak.

Still, you didn’t need the relentless jesting of your teammates tonight- not after the emotional rollercoaster you were currently on.

Facing the blonde again, you lowered your voice. “We were just friends too…”

The resounding ‘no’ you received was immediate, Leah’s definitive tone leaving nothing up for debate. “No we weren’t. We never were just friends. You know it.”

“Leah…”

Grabbing your wrist once more, a stern look on her face, Leah hastily pulled you to a dark corner of the bar, you both hidden in the shadows as she turned to face you, eyebrows furrowed in anger, nostrils flaring, a striking change in her demeanour.

“Don’t ‘Leah…’ me. You left. You decided that you were going to move to a whole new country without asking me. You chose a long distance relationship for us without asking me what I thought. You left me. And where did that leave us? Leave me? I can’t even go on a date with someone without thinking of you!”

By now the blonde was breathing heavily as you stared, jaw clenched as you took in her words.

“You were the one who chose to break up!”

She stepped closer to you, invading your personal space, head slightly down as she met your gaze.

“You signed the contract before we could even talk!”

“You didn’t even bother fighting for us!”

“‘Cause you didn’t even give me a chance to!“

“I-“

“You what?”

The sharp response had your eyes widening, heartbeat racing as your mind remember the chaos of last summer’s transfer window. The way you hadn’t felt at home in London wearing blue. How countless nights were spent apart from your girlfriend, the physical distance between you short, but still feeling like you were kilometres apart.

You had figured that maybe some space would’ve done you some good. It’s why you had decided to quietly sign for Wolfsburg, only telling the blonde after since she had barely been home, had barely talked to you.

Looking back now however, maybe it wasn’t your wisest decision.

Whispering quietly as the realisation hit you like a truck, your eyes widened.

“I didn’t know…”

All you got in response was the blonde stepping impossibly closer to you, your faces inches away.

“You wanna know the worst part? I hate that I still miss you everyday. I hate that I still wake up some mornings reaching out to your side of the bed. I hate that the only time I see you is when I see pictures of you online. I hate that the first time I’m seeing you in nearly a year is in a dingy bar with the rest of our drunk teammates milling around when this past year could’ve been so different for us. I hate that I can’t have you. I hate that you aren’t mine”

The frustrated words slowly morphed into those of defeat, leaving you breathless- the declaration, the sentiment of Leah’s words not lost on you. You definitely didn’t expect the night to go like this.

You didn’t know what to say, mind reeling at the fact that you weren’t the only one who hadn’t gotten over your relationship. To be fair, you didn’t know how many people got over a two, nearly three year relationship quickly, but with all the social media posts and the stories you would hear about the blonde from mutual friends, you had figured she moved on pretty quickly.

You’d clearly been wrong though.

“I-”

Pleading ocean blue eyes looking in yours, you let yourself sink and drown in the emotions swimming in the orbs.

“I-…I’m sorry.”

Swallowing hard, you contemplated on telling the blonde the news you’d been holding back for the better part of a month, the summer international season wrapping up today and giving you way to make an official announcement soon.

You saw as Leah observed you closely, her head tilting to the side as she sensed you were holding something back, her knowledge of you from when you dated not lost in the slightest.

You stared blankly as her eyes went wide, her stepping away from you as the gears in her brain turned.

“Oh my god, please don’t tell me you have a girlfriend or someth-“

Shaking your head quickly, eyes widening at the worldly incorrect guess, you placed your hands on her waist, immediately pulling her back, her warmth alluring, her presence a comfort you had missed dearly and didn’t want to lose for even a second.

“No. God, I couldn’t even if I tried. Trust me, you weren’t the only one who couldn’t move on…”

Comforting the blonde with your shared emotions of the past handful of months, you relaxed yourself, the admission lifting the weight off your shoulders, no need for you to pretend you were okay without her.

Taking a deep breath in as Leah neared your proximity once more, your hands travelling up to her shoulders as hers found purchase on your hips, you chose to ignore the somersaults your stomach was doing at finally being in Leah’s arms after so long.

Closing your eyes, terrified of the response you were going to get, you quickly blurted out what you had been holding back.

“There’s a high chance, and by high I mean nearly 99% done, of me transferring to Arsenal for the upcoming season…”

Having spent the last year with Wolfsburg, your one year contract had expired after the end of the league, you choosing not to renew when your childhood club put in an offer.

Peeking an eye open to gauge Leah’s reaction, you couldn’t stop the smile that spread on your face as you saw her eyes shine with joy, a beaming grin on her face at your words.

“Don’t lie…please…”

Shaking your head, you internally melted at how hopeful the skipper looked.

“I promise I’m not.”

At your words, you saw as her smile grew again, Leah scooping you up into her arms to hug you tightly at the news- resentment be damned- the joy of having you near drowning out any and all negative sentiments in the blink of an eye.

Feeling her grin against the crook of your neck, you rested your face against her shoulder, sinking into the familiar feeling of being her arms, a feeling you missed terribly.

And as Leah pulled back, the twinkle in her eyes paralleling the brightest stars in the sky, you smiled shyly as she rested her forehead against yours, you both silently understanding what this meant for you and for her, for you both.

It wasn’t much, nothing resolved between the two of you, at least not yet- but it was something- a starting point.

Soft smiles on both of your faces, you let yourself be led out, following behind Leah, hands gently intertwined and a glimmer of hope in your hearts.

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso community #woso imagine #my writing #fic #fic req #angst #fluff #isf

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kissforyouu · 9 months

Text

𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙳𝙸𝙶𝙰𝙽 . 𝚓𝚓𝚔

pairing : jungkook x reader

genre : college boy!jungkook , fwb , so much fluff , situationship , confusing relationship

warning : angst , strong language , smoking , masturbation , use of weed and drugs , getting high , lots of kisses🤭 , oral sex ( f recieving ) , doggy , unprotected sex , situationships. (trigger warning😓)

Inspired by Cardigan - Taylor Swift

unedited.

> read pt. 1 here

It's been about three weeks since Jungkook had left my door. I try, but I still can't make up my mind with the fact that it's all over. It's even harder, because Jungkook was always apart of my daily routine. We'd go get our groceries together, drop eachother by our respective classes, study together, hangout and so much more. It's not just the fucking, or the kissing, he was also my best friend. Losing my bestfriend was even worse. Sometimes I'd wonder how it would've been if we never had sex. Would we still be friends? Best friends? Would it have been better? It would have been better, I think. Maybe. Or maybe not. I don't fucking know.

Or maybe we'd just be strangers and I would've never gotten to experience this love from him? Or maybe—it wasn't even love. Well, obviously, it wasn't. He made it clear. Very clear.

Although it's been a week, Jungkook has never tried to contact me. It hurts, but whatever. Clearly he's enjoying his time though, judging by his instagram stories. Party after party. I always see him either drinking or going out with his friends on social media. Okay. I might be stalking him on social media. But hey, it's not exactly stalking when the information is public and accessible to anyone, right? So, I'm not stalking. I'm only making use of my rights as someone using social media.

It's whatever. Jungkook's whatever. I'll move on. Of course, I will. It's nothing a bit of journaling and music can't fix, right? Yeah.

I hum to my music, continuing to write on my journal. This was my way of letting all my feelings out. I'd journal, write and doodle about it. It was calm, and it also helped me open up and learn more about myself. I liked it.

I continued to write...

I still want him. I want him so so much. I really hate to admit that, but I do. I don't know what's gotten over me. I have to make up my mind, I really really do. Jungkook proved to me that I was nothing but some fuck, but why can't I think the same? It's slowly driving me insane. In addition to that, I really really really really fucking hate the fact that I'd go back to him in a heartbeat if I could.

I let out a sigh, closing the journal. This is what I've been doing for the past three weeks. It's stupid, really, we weren't even fucking dating! I keep thinking about that, and it's driving me crazy. Whatever. I placed my journal and headphones back on my table, then getting back on my bed. Covering myself with my soft pink sheets, I made myself comfortable enough to fall asleep.

I hated this so much.

Everywhere I looked, it always reminded me of Jungkook. I hated how every corner of my room had some sort of memory attached to him. Whether it was just him holding one of my belongings, standing in a specific area, or him just doing something—it always reminded me of him.

The worst was my bed. Everytime I got on it, I just couldn't help but think of all the things we did on it. I couldn't help but think of the places his hands touched me, the feeling of his lips on my skin, or the feeling of his cock going in and out of me. I hated this because sometimes—sometimes! Just sometimes I'd feel myself getting hot down there.

I hate to admit this but—

"Mm..." a whimper leaves my mouth at the feeling of my fingers pressing onto my clothed clit. All that thinking got me wet. I slowly drag my fingers up and down, caressing my folds. I imagine it's his fingers, Jungkook's, teasing my folds slowly.

What would he do right now? He'd subtly touch me everywhere to get me soaking wet.

My other hand reaches down to my left breast, rubbing my nipple through the material. A few seconds later, the material of my top was now discarded on the bed. I continue to rub my nipple slowly, just the way he would. My other hand was caressing my thighs slowly, letting my fingertips subtly touch the surface of my skin. I gather a good amount of spit in my mouth, then bringing my fingers to my lips, then my nipples. I spread the liquid all around my nipple, flicking it too.

A heavy breath is heard, my fingers creeping inside my panties this time. It was a new sensation. I never masturbated. I didn't need to. I had Jungkook.

A small whimper echoes within my mouth as my fingers come in contact with my folds, spreading the arousal around. Shit, I was so wet. Not as much I was whenever I was around him though. I gather some of the arousal, rubbing my clit with it next. I moan, continuing to rub myself. It felt awfully good. I imagine it's him. His fingers teasing and rubbing my clit while his face was squished in between my tits. That's how it'd usually go.

An embarrassingly whiny moan slips past my mouth at my thoughts, fuck I want him so bad. I continue to rub myself faster, my back now arched a little. I rub my bud in the motion of an 8, hoping for a release. It feels good, but not that good.

I then run my middle and ring fingers up and down my folds. I imagine it's his tongue, sliding up and down on me as he savours the taste. "So good..." I hum. I retreat my fingers back to my clit, rubbing it again. About a minute later of continuous rubbing, heavy breaths and small whines, I slowly feel my high approaching. I squeeze my eyes shut, imagining it's him, as my body shudders.

I don't rub myself further, stopping myself right there. I was now sensitive down there. I didn't cum. Fuck, this is annoying.

Groaning, my body sits back up on the bed. I put back all my clothes on, pee and get right back to bed. This was unsuccessful and very annoying. Embarrassing, too. What have I done? Fuck, really, Y/n? Over Jungkook. Yes, Over Jungkook.

Okay, just sleep it off. I tell myself, trying to convince myself that what I had done just now was totally not embarrassing.

I groan at the sound of my annoying alarm beeping on my nightstand. "Fuck you", I turn the alarm off, groaning once more as I roll off the bed. I grab my phone, my eyes still blurry, and then— FUCK. IT WAS 12PM. MY CLASSES START AT 11AM. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. I rise up from the bed, running to my bathroom. I have to make this very quick. I grab the toothbrush and get in the shower, washing my body while brushing my teeth. 5 minutes later, I run out of the bathroom to open my closet. I throw a pair of jeans and a hoodie before quickly putting them. I don't bother to style my hair or to eat, I just grab my bag and laptop before running out of my dorm. Mina, my roommate, didn't even wake me up. Where even is she? I didn't see her coming back home yesterday? Whatever.

I speed walk to my class that's already started one hour ago. Shit, hopefully the teacher doesn't give me a bad grade or note this down. I had a record of being one of the top 10 students in each class I took. I wouldn't want to drop it because of something so careless and small.

I hesitantly walk inside the door, my foot taking small nervous steps. The teacher looks at me, her eyebrow raising up to a confused look on her face. "Y/n, you're late" She taps her pointer finger on her chin repeatedly.

Bringing my lip in between my teeth, I nod my head in return. "Uh, I'm so sorry, Ms. Kim"

"Any particular reason you got late, Y/n?" She asks.

Oh yeah, I miss my ex - ex best friend - ex talking stage - ex fuck buddy— or whatever, and then I rubbed one out for him and passed out on the bed right after.

"Um, just overslept"

"Ah, pity. As a punishment, stay after class and help out the librarian please. New stack of books incoming!"

I press my lips into a thin line, nodding. It's not like I have another choice.

"Yes, madam."

She giggles in return, then directs me to my seat.

Another hour has passed, the bell has rung. After class. A groan echoes out of me as I rise up from my seat, clutching onto my bag. My friend looks at me, then giggles before patting my shoulder twice in hopes of comforting me a little. She leaves the room.

"Y/n, I hope I see you tomorrow on time. You're a good student, don't lose that reputation." Ms. Kim flashes a bland smile as she exits the classroom. Shrugging, I walk out of the classroom as well, heading to the library.

"Hi, Ms. Kent! I wave at the librarian.

"Y/n, isn't it? Ms. Kim informed me about you." She responds as she adjusts her glasses.

I nod my head back at her, my hands holding on to eachother at the back.

"Great! You can help me by taking out that stack of books and putting them inside this box" She hands me a big cardboard box.

I take it as I walk to the book shelf she pointed at. I turn around to look at the librarian, desperately hoping that she'd come help me out. But no, nevemind. She was on her chair, legs resting on top of her table as she took a nap. Okay, fine, take your rest. She probably deserves it, anyway.

I turn back, my hands now on my hips. "Good luck, y/n" my eyes scan the big shelf.

I start by taking out the books at the lowest layer, then gradually making my way to the top. "Hmm..." I hum, looking around the library for a tool. In order to reach the top, I needed something to get on. As I scan the room, my eyes land on the small tool in a corner. "Ah!"

Getting on the stool, my spread out my arms in order to balance myself. I grab a few books, then slowly lowering myself down to the box to drop the books. It's a bit of a risky task. I could break a limb. "Good", words of relief leave my mouth. I repeat the process, slowly and watching each of my steps.

I bend down to drop another book then lift myself back up, my feet doing a 60° degree again to align myself perfectly in front of the shelf. I grab one of the last few books on the shelf, turning around to drop it into the box. Uh, oh. There we go. I fall to the ground with a yelp. I lost my balance. Groaning, I close my eyes. Maybe I'll just lay here for a few minutes till the pain goes away. It really hurts though, I rub my hip and waist area. I'll apply some balm when I get back to my dorm.

"Y/n?"

I want to drown myself in a river.

I know that voice better than anyone else's. What the fuck is he doing here.

In the other hand, it felt really nice hearing my name coming out of his mouth. I missed his voice.

I gulp at the feeling of two fingers patting my shoulder. I don't want to open my eyes because I know I'll come eye to eye with the person I seriously do not wanting to be talking to right now. But I do it anyway.

"Y-you good?" He stutters.

I nod, slowly raising myself up. I flinch, wincing at the sudden jolt of pain on my lower back. My hand grips onto the closest shelf as I slowly lift myself back up on my feet. Jungkook offers me his hand for support, but I deny it. I just want to walk away.

"Y/n—

I walk past him with the now full cardboard box, ignoring the stabbing pain I'm feeling. Lifting this is so hard, fuck, especially with my now broken back. Broken is probably an exaggeration, but whatever.

I place the box in the small room right next to the library that's filled with stacks of books and other material. I'm done!

I go back inside the library to grab my bag and other items. As I put my pair of glasses inside the bag, I feel the soft honey-like voice from before say my name again.

"Y/n" I'm done.

Ignoring him would be too immature and would cause even more problems. So it's better to say something, right? Totally not because I want to talk with him, maybe, kind of.

"Jungkook." I gulp.

"Let me talk to you." Oh.

"About?"

"Us" Oh.

"There's nothing to talk about us, Jungkook."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there isn't. You made it clear."

"Jesus, Y/n. Can we move on from that, please?"

I scoff. "Fuck, no."

His hand immediately catches my wrist just when I try to walk away.

"Please, let me make it up to you—

"Jungkook. No."

I make it very clear to him that I don't want anything with him anymore. Maybe I do. But maybe I'm scared to get hurt again. Doesn't matter.

I pull my wrist away from his grip. I don't look back but walk straight out of the library.

If you wanted to talk to me and make things right, you should've done it two weeks ago.

Stepping into the safe space of my dorm, I sigh, plopping myself on the bean bag. My fingers go through my hair, softly caressing it and massaging my scalp. Shamelessly, my mind drifts away to the moment where Jungkook's fingers were tangled in betweens my locks, massaging my scalp and stroking my head. Or the times where he would fist my hair, using it to guide my head up and down while I choked on his dick. Unconsciously, my thighs rub against eachother just a little to bring me back to my senses. I look around my room, cheeks flushed and embarrassed. I can't be doing this again, god no.

Deciding to make myself a cup of ramen, I make my way to my little kitchen. I add boiling water to the cup, waiting for the noodles to be ready. Now back on my sofa with my noodles, I was so so ready to dig those chopsticks in and take a bite on my noodles. But my phone suddenly dings, the screen showing a message. It was Jungkook. What, Jungkook? Why's he messaging me? Oh fuck, was it about early? I gulp, reaching down to the coffee table to grab my phone.

jungoogie💌: haiiiii😆😁😁

jungoogie💌: Y/NNNNN!!!! ansehwr mem

My eyebrow slightly raises at the texts, noticing how messy and chaotic they were. Is he was drunk? I began typing my reply.

No, what.

I immediately press the call option then and there after reading the message of him saying he was going to take another gummy. What was wrong with him?

The call answered fast, the first thing I hear being him giggling.

"Y/nnnn?"

My name is heard in a slurred speech, a set of small giggles being heard once again after.

"Jungkook? Where are you?"

He hums into the phone, then small wet kissy noises being heard after. Is he kissing his phone?

"Miss you...so much..."

My heart warms up at his words. I know I shouldn't let it affect me, but I felt the same. It's been weeks since I had last seen Jungkook, and I've wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and hold. I clear my voice a bit before speaking again.

"I miss you too. Can you tell me where you are, please?"

I need to make sure where he is. Back before I met him, he used to go around the street and get high for fun with Yugyeom. I stopped him later on. But he's back at it again, I guess.

"You do?!" His voice suddenly escalates from tired and slurred to hype pitched and excited. He is being so adorable right now.

"Baby, I...miss you too!" Jungkook groans, then a small thud is heard. I hear Jungkook sigh, sounding very relaxed and calm.

"Mm, are you in your dorm?"

Jungkook hums in confirmation. And just at that, I get up from my bed before walking out the door. I cannot let him get even more high. Even more so, who knows what else he'll do in there.

"Jungkook, keep talking"

"Can I sing?"

"Yeah"

"Vintage tee, brand new phone, high heels on..."

He knew I liked that song. He's doing this on purpose. As he continues to serenade me, I slowly make my way upto his dorm. We weren't allowed to be here. One of the rules in our university was that no one of the opposite gender should be seen at another's dorm. That's a rule me and Jungkook had broken way before. He was always there in my dorm. I'm surprised he was never caught.

Too lost in Jungkook's voice, I forget that I was already near his dorm. Snapping back to reality, I hesitantly ask Jungkook to stop singing.

"Kook, open your door. I'm there."

I'm sure of this, right? Yeah, yeah I am.

"Oh?" His singing stops, his voice switching to a more confused tone. Next, I hear small sounds, then thuds on the floor as they got closer and closer.

The door shoots open in a hurried manner, his eyes falling onto mine. But his eyes are not the thing I'm looking at, it's the weed roll in his hand. I look back at him, my eyebrows now furrowed.

"Baby—"

"When did you start smoking again?" I cross my arms against my chest.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, bringing the blunt upto his mouth to inhale some.

"A few days after we stopped talking" He admits. He looks guilty, but I try to ignore it. I was still mad at him. For everything. In addition, about this too.

Jungkook angles his body to the side, making space for me to walk in. I walk past his body towards his room.

Once I enter, I let out a small gasp at the state of his room. It was so fucking messy. Clothes here and there on the floor, his books scattered across his table alongside empty cans of frizzy drinks and empty ramen cups, bed fully messy and sheets on the floor included.

"What the fuck happened here?" I ask, concern flowing through me.

I feel his hand snake around my waist, cold fingertips giving me chills as they traced my belly. My body instinctively leans back into his, my back pressed against his chest. Jungkook's sighs into my neck, the tip of his nose caressing my collarbones.

"Missed you..." He was holding me so tight that I almost couldn't breathe. He was holding me so tight as if it's the last time he'll ever be able to do so.

I don't say anything else while I lead the both of us to the top of his bed. Jungkook doesn't allow me to move much, caging me in between his body and the bed right away. I lay flat as his body settles in between my legs. I run my fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

Jungkook takes one look at me, then another inhale from his weed roll. I forget he even had it.

He blows the smoke away, eyes still on mine, staring into the deep the corners of my eyes. Suddenly, I start coughing, my hand on my chest as I tried to calm down my breathing. The smoke was making me cough.

Jungkook sits on the bed, alerted as he starts to mutter sorrys over and over.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm sorry, baby"

His hand rubs up and down my back in a soothing manner in an attempt to calm me down. It works, of course. My breathing slows down to my normal pace. Jungkook looks at his blunt, getting up from the bed before taking one last inhale then throwing it in the bin.

He groans, now inside his bathroom. I hear the sound of the water running down.

The light is turned off again as Jungkook exits the bathroom. He looks at me sitting on his bed. This time he notices the outline of my breasts, clearly visible from the thin material of the shirt I was wearing. His eyes trail down my body, from the outline of my breasts to my nipples, then my waist.

"No bra?" Jungkook breaks the silence.

I shook my head, pushing my shoulders back so I could lean against the headboard. And also that my tits were even more visible to him, but I don't want to admit to it. I watch Jungkook's eyes shift from my face to my tits. He walks towards the bed and gets on it.

Sitting on the bed right in front of me, Jungkook sighs, gripping onto my thigh before pulling me towards him so that I'm laying flat on the bed.

We lock our eyes together, our breathing suddenly syncing in as Jungkook hooks onto the edge of my shirt. He looks at me, for approval.

Fuck, how could I not? I've been wanting to feel him so bad.

I nod, gulping.

He raises the shirt upwards, exposing my tummy. Jungkook leans down to place a few kisses all over it. He continues to kiss my tummy in circles, causing me to let out a few giggles at the ticklish feeling here and there. And each time I did, he would raise up his head to look at me, his eyes big and sparkling.

Jungkook moves the shirt more upwards, my tits now out and bare as the end of the shirt laid right over them.

His hands immediately fly to cup my breasts, holding them. He sighs.

"So warm..."

Jungkook crawls further, so that his head is laying on my breasts. He nuzzles himself deeper, cheek pressed against my chest and hands groping my breasts. I watch him attentively, finding this moment comforting.

He slowly turns around to look at me, and this time, I notice how his eyes are half lidded, reddish with veins visible. It's from all that weed and gummies. Jungkook says nothing though, he just looks at me in awe, but also guilt.

I glide my thumb over his cheekbone, stroking it. Jungkook leans in to my touch, then colliding his lips and my palm, small smooch noises being heard after.

This is nice. I want to have this everyday.

He proceeds kiss my fingers, trailing them up wrists to my arms, then collarbone, my throat and upto my face. I close my eyes, focusing on the feeling of his soft thin lips on me and the small smooch sounds they create. Right then, he kisses both of my closed eyelids, then nose, cheeks, chin. The only area left were my lips. My eyes open to look at him.

His breath was fanning against my lips. We were inches away from kissing.

Jungkook cracks up a small giggle,

"I think you sobered me up a little."

He pulls away to sit up on the bed again.

No, kiss me. I want you to kiss me.

I clutch onto his shirt, pulling him back to me. Jungkook was surprised, his hand gripping onto my arm for support. I lean in to peck his lips once. I pull away, my lashes batting as I stare at him.

Jungkook looked shocked. He shouldn't be, I just let him kiss me all over. His expressions change, turning into a more soft and relaxed look on his face. His big eyes stare back at me as he leans in, going for another kiss.

The kiss feels passionate, deep and so — real. It feel real.

Jungkook's eyebrows furrow, head tilting to the side to deepen the kiss more. Our lips move against eachother so perfectly. The kiss wasn't rough, neither was is soft. It was perfect, filled with longing and love.

He settles his legs down next to my thighs, caging my body. I grab his hand, holding it with both my hands to my heart. I'm sure he could feel how fast my heart was beating. He whimpers, sending vibrations through my mouth. The kiss was getting sloppy and air was running out. But we continued kissing. I missed his lips so much. His soft lips against mine, moving in a synchronised rhythm. Even our breathing was synchronised.

After one final smooch, I pull away with a gasp in a serious need of air. My head arches onto the pillow, hair messy and arm thrown over my head as I catched breath.

I lower my eyes down to look at Jungkook, who was looking at me as if I was the only thing that mattered to him. If I could, I'd hit replay and live this moment over and over again.

He cups my face, squishing my cheeks while he left small pecks all over my upper and lower lip. My lips turn into an uncontrollable smile, so big and bright. He continued to peck my lips, teeth even, then my cheeks.

I don't know what is making him do this, is it the weed and gummies he took earlier or is it actually him.

"Mmmm..." I whine once he pulls away.

There is so much tension in the room right now. But nothing sexual, I don't want to fuck him right now. Maybe later. But not now.

Everything we did right now obviously meant we had to talk about it later. Especially about Jungkook's behaviour. The drugs, the weed, the messy room, calling me. Everything. Would I go back to him after this? Yeah.

There is an awkward silence again, and Jungkook looks like he wants to say something so bad. I can say that because he keep tugging onto his lower lip with his teeth, nibbling on it constantly. For a moment, he opens his mouth, ready to say something but closes it again. My eyebrow raises. Patting Jungkook's cheek,

"Say it." I tell him.

"I love you."

Jungkook whispers, audible enough for me to hear. Audible enough to send me into euphoria. Audible enough to make me fucking forget everything for a moment.

I don't say anything back for a few seconds. Jungkook looks relaxed and relieved, maybe glad that he finally said it. Before I could say anything back, he covers my mouth with his hand.

"Don't say anything, please. I don't want to hear it yet. Let's just go to sleep and talk in the morning."

Jungkook lays down on the bed right next to me, his arm wrapping around my waist. His big eyes sparkle, looking directly into mine.

I don't say anything back just like he wants, but I wrap my arms around his torso, pulling him closer to me. I don't know whether it was the weather or something else, but Jungkook felt so warm. The atmosphere around us as well. Everything felt warm and comfortable. Nuzzling my face further into his chest, I hum, comfortable as fuck. My heart skips a beat once I feel his fingers on my head. He run them through my hair, massaging my scalp and patting my head. Fuck, I missed this so much.

I soothe into his touch, my body weight now entirely on him. As my eyes get even more drowsy, I let myself fall asleep in his embrace.

Before even realising, the morning had come already. What did make us realise that was Jungkook's alarm going off.

Jungkook groans, rolling over to the other side to turn his alarm off. When he turns around, he finds my back facing him fully. I had shifted while sleeping. Jungkook giggles, his arm pulling me back to him as my back collides with his hard chest. He thinks of going back to sleep again, but too late, the alarm had already woken me up. Just when Jungkook presses his head onto my shoulder, I pull his hair away so that his head is back on the pillow.

"I'm awake"

"Don't care" Jungkook murmers.

"Jungkook"

"Fucking hell..." He groans.

He rubs his eyes open. Jungkook yawns again, then going back to lay his head on my back.

"My head hurts" he sighs.

"Probably because of the things you did last night. Maybe I could give you a massage?"

Jungkook's eyes lit up at the suggestion. Eagerly, he nods his head already sitting up on the bed.

"Take your shirt off and lay on your stomach"

Jungkook can't help but crack up a small laugh at my comment while I tilt my head to the side, clearly confused.

"What?"

"Nothing" He grins.

"No, say it"

—"Say it." - "I love you" —

"It's just that it's usually me who says it you know, cause, when we have sex..." he giggles again.

I look at him, grinning back. Grabbing the pillow, I hit his back with it. Jungkook pokes his tongue, looking at the outline of my nipples through my shirt when I stretch my arms up to hit him. He snorts at the hit, then taking his shirt off before throwing it on the ground.

I get on top of his back once he lays down.

I take my time to admire his naked back, sculptured to perfect. It was so perfect and built. You could tell that he worked out just by the side of his back.

I begin with his shoulders, gently massaging them to ease the tension out. He hums as I continue massage his shoulders now increasing the pressure. I move down to his arms, squeezing them and sort of punching them to relax them. Jungkook's eyebrows raise up,eyes closed as he nods his head in approval. I then press onto his bones, circling them from time to time as I switch in between squeezing his muscles to massaging his bones.

I loved the feel of his muscles. Touching them felt so nice. I loved it when I felt him relax at the pleasure of my hands massaging him. I take a moment to admire his back again, running my hand up and down his back. Unknowingly, my nails begin to scratch his back. He lets out a long moan at the soothing feeling.

I giggle, leaning down to press a small kiss behind his neck. I get no reaction back from him, so I continue to trail kisses down his back. Jungkook shifts a little in his position, groaning a little.

"Jungkook, turn around" I whisper.

I get off of him for a brief moment so that Jungkook could lay on his back before getting back on top of him again. Now that my clothed pussy was pressed onto his growing buldge, I grip onto his shoulders to massage him more. He moans at the feeling, head thrown back.

"Here, baby?"

His eyebrow is raised because of the tone of my voice—flirty— and the nickname I used on him. I never called him baby. Ever.

"What's up with you?" He asks.

I immediately give in not being to control myself more, I dive in for a kiss. Jungkook understands how I'm feeling, smirking into the kiss while his hands sneakily slide up my legs and inside my shorts. He palms my ass cheeks, rubbing his palm over them. My arms lay on around his head, caging it, as both our mouths working on eachother's. My tongue licks his lower lip, a smile forming on my lips slowly. I feel his hands leave the inside of my shorts to slap both my cheeks, a cocky laugh coming from him next. Jungkook then hooks onto the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down upto my ankles. My ass was now bare and out.

I go back in for a kiss, arching my back as well. I whimper into the kiss once Jungkook sneaks his way into my mouth with his tongue, at the same time — his fingers touching my pussy. I could imagine his smirk right now. Fuck. I feel the tip of his fingers teasingly tracing along my folds teasingly. To spite me up even more, he inserts the very tip of his fingers in, but nothing more. I grunt, trying to grind myself back on his fingers. I was begging for some friction. Jungkook's fingers leave my pussy, only to be back with a small slap on it.

I groan into his mouth, letting him take over me with his godly tongue. His middle finger touches my bud, pressing onto it while my pussy clenches on absolutely nothing. It was so fucking embarrassing but I was dripping wet for him.

Jungkook pulls out of the kiss, now beginning to trail kisses all over my neck. He starts with the side of my neck, then down to my collarbone and back up on my neck again. He nibbles on a spot near my throat, biting it here and there to create a hickey. Jungkook licks over the small purple bruise forming, to then kiss it over and over again. He begins to repeat the process all over on several areas on my neck and collarbones. Meanwhile, I melt onto his touches, just letting him continue kissing and biting me all over. But while being too caught on the moment, I feel his fingers begin to slowly rub my bud. A long moan leaves me as my back arches even more. I'm pretty sure I looked like a fucking cat who was stretching.

"Turn around. Want this pretty pussy on my face" He pats my bud.

Shit, I was so turned on.

Immediately, I turn around, my ass now in front of Jungkook's face. I feel his hands on my cheeks, squeezing them and feeling them all over as he slaps it a few times.

"Sit on my face"

I felt myself clench around nothing.

I turn my upper body around to make sure I won't hurt him, I slowly lift my thighs up to sit on his face. I wasn't exactly putting my whole body weight onto him, more like hovering over him.

"Sit" He commands.

"No, you'll be crushed and my thighs are too big. This is good enough"

I hear him sigh. Next thing I know I feel his hands on my thighs, bringing me down so that my ass was entirely on his face and thighs around his neck and shoulder. My entire body weight was on him.

"I'm not dying, see?" He scoffs.

I whine in defeat, nodding to his words.

Jungkook begins by swiping his tongue up for a long stripe on my pussy, then going in again. He repeats the process, but much rougher, with his nose pressing onto my flesh. Meanwhile, his hands rub and squeeze my thighs, delivering a few slaps here and there. I lean forward a little balance myself out, but suddenly jolt at the feeling of his tongue entering my pussy.

"Shit!" I moan.

Gripping onto his shoulders for support, my back arched and pussy on his face. His face was smothered all over my dripping cunt.

"Baby, you're so wet. This pussy must've missed me, huh?" I feel his thumb dipping in to gather arousal. Jungkook sucks on his thumb, pulling it out again to enter two fingers in my hole at once.

"Fuck!" I wasn't even stretched out to begin with.

He kisses my clit, lips softly sucking on it while his fingers went in and out of me slowly. So slow, that it felt like he was just caressing my wet folds. His teeth gently tucks on my clit to pull on it a little, earning a long moan from me return. He sighs into my pussy, groaning right after, sending vibrations through me adding even more pleasure.

Shit, this was heaven.

He was so mindful with what he was doing. He knew where to touch me, where to kiss, how to tease me and make me like it. He knew my body so fucking well, better than I ever could.

Jungkook pulls out both of his fingers to replace them with his tongue. I feel his tongue swiping through my folds, gulping down all of my juices. His room was filled with nothing but my filthy moans and his slurping noises.

His tongue enters my gaping hole, making my eyes roll back in pleasure. Shit. He saves me no mercy, trusting his tongue in and out of my pussy. Fuck, I was so turned on. I could feel my slick dripping down to his face, smothering it all over.

Panting, I close my eyes just to open them a few seconds later, my eyes immediately landing on the fat dent in his pants. His cock was prominent and big, standing tall even in his quite tight pants. I want to have it. I look beneath me at the man who was currently eating me out like a starved man, biting my lip at the erotic sight.

I groan a little, moving my hips at the same pace as his tongue.

"Jungkook, I want you in my mouth!" I cry out.

He doesn't respond, continuing to eat me out. His finger was now pressed onto my bud, circling it. I whine, desperately wanting a response from him.

Still no response. I then grip onto his shoulders with my hands, leaning forward. I crawl my way over his body, my face right in front of his cock now. I hear Jungkook groan at the lack of my pussy on his face. I turn my upper body around to look at him, giggling at him. Sticking my tongue out playfully, I turn back around only to get dragged back to Jungkook by his arm.

My back collides with his chest, a series of giggles and laughs leaving us. I throw my head back, still laughing, as Jungkook holds both my hands tightly to my chest while not letting go.

He presses his cheek onto my neck, whispering things.

"You want me dick? Yeah, you're gonna get it"

He easily turns my body around so that I was laying on my stomach again. Jungkook now gets on the bed, on top of me as both his thighs are caging mine. He pats my ass cheeks with both his hands while I got myself back up so that my ass was displayed to him clearly with easy access (doggy style). Jungkook releases his breaths, fondling with my ass cheeks, slapping it a few times.

"I could do this all day everyday" He comments.

"Jungkook, I missed you" my voice cracks.

He scoffs. "You missed me or you missed this dick?" He slaps my cheeks again.

I whine, sighing afterwards.

"Both" Jungkook laughs, almost mockingly.

"Wonder how you got yourself off without me, hm? Did you use your hands? Were you even able to make yourself cum?"

I could feel that cocky smirk behind me.

"S-shut up, just fuck me" I could feel the heat in my cheeks growing more each second.

"Did you cum?"

"No"

Jungkook hums, fingers inching towards my pussy.

"You want me to touch you here and make you cum?" His fingers circle my wet clit.

"Mmm-hm" my voice sounds more relaxed, but desperate.

"Here? Touch you like this, baby?" He then pinches my clit and twists it, earning a whiny whimper from me. I was so fucking wet and each touch he gives me got me dripping even more. After, I feel his hand palming my pussy, juices smothering all over his hand while he rubbed my clit painfully slowly.

A long whine leaves me, back arching even more. Fuck.

"Jungkook, p—please... please"

I was a big fucking mess and Jungkook loved it so much.

"No more, please... Just fuck me, mm!"

My hair was messy and all over, head buried into the pillow while Jungkook's hand worked slowly on my pussy. He lets out a little laugh, stopping his movement on me. I don't feel his hand on me no longer, but not even a second later, I gasp at the feeling of the tip of his cock pressed onto my folds.

"Shit, Jungkook" I cuss.

"You're on birth control?"

"Mhm"

We were too fucking horny to even care at this point.

He glides the tip along my folds, coating it nicely with my slick. I hear him pumping himself a few times — not that he wasn't hard enough, fuck his cock was standing so fucking tall — but to bet my slick all over. He aligns himself with my hole once again, patting my ass afterwards.

"You ready?"

"Just put it in!"

He thrusts himself in rough, a big wet noise echoing through the room.

"Fucking hell, baby, you're dripping"

Jungkook begins from just grinding his cock into me while being inside, then gradually increasing his pace. He then stops for a moment to pull his cock out for a second to slam it back in a rough pace. He never stops, repeating the same process over. The sound of his thighs clapping into the back of my thighs echoes through his room alongside the wet mushy noises my pussy made.

"S—shit, so good, taking this cock so well, baby"

He repeatedly slaps both my ass cheeks mid process, enjoying this moment to the max. My whole upper body had collapsed to the bed already, and it was the pillow that Jungkook placed under my stomach that was holding me up.

I was this close to passing out. My mouth was open, saliva spilling to the pillow while he continues to drill into my pussy.

Jungkook leans forward to press his chest onto my back, hands enveloping my breasts to flick and pinch my nipples.

He circles his hips in circular motions, just to pull out and slam back again inside.

I was such a moaning mess.

"Mm, mm, mm! Y-you fuck me so well!" I scream out.

"Oh, baby" He groans.

I feel myself clenching around him repeatedly, about to cum.

"J–jungkook, cumming!"

His thrusts slow down a little but he picks it back up, slopping but fast as he fucks me through my high. I feel my pussy clenching around him tightly, making the man behind me cuss and moan as I finally released all over his cock. Panting, I moan into the pillow as Jungkook kept going on.

His lips leave a few kisses on my back, his thrusts getting sloppier as he went on.

He lets out a long moan, finally releasing myself in my pussy.

"Shit, shit, shit—" a series of moans and cusses leave his mouth.

We both lay there, breathing synchronised and fast. Jungkook then slowly lifts himself off of my body, slipping himself out.

"You look fucked out, baby" He laughs.

"Of course, I would be. You just fucked me rough and I'm stuffed with your cum" I respond.

He puckers his lips, leaning down to place small kisses all over my face.

"Ah, my babyyy. Tired?" I could tell he was teasing me from the little baby voice he's using on me.

I turn my head to the other side, a smile forming on my face, completely forgetting about the fact that I was filled with his cum to the brim.

I feel his hand on my head, fingers twirling my curls at the end. He then holds my chin, gently, moving my face so that I'd face him.

His nose scrunched, Jungkook smiles wide before leaning down to place a soft peck on my puckered lips.

"Cute" He mumbles, and I swear my heart just did a flip.

"Let's get you cleaned"

We both were now on his bed again, cuddled up against eachother after a nice shower together. Both our classes start around 2pm, thankfully, and it was about 9am right now so we had a plenty of time left to just be in eachother's presence. I still had so many questions to ask Jungkook regarding yesterday. But not right now, I wanted to enjoy this moment.

I was currently laying in his arms, my head resting on his hard chest and both arms securely wrapped around my body while we watched whatever show that was on the TV. From time to time, he would lean forward to press a kiss onto my body or just talk about the show we were watching.

"I honestly don't like her character. She's so...ugh" I comment on the TV show, my face scrunch up in disgust.

Jungkook just hums, hand massaging my scalp. He seemed to be out of space a little. Deep in thought. Wonder what he was thinking about. Eh, I could think of a few possibilities.

"Jungkook?" I pat his cheek.

He hums in response, glancing at me.

"You good?"

"Mm, just — ah, yesterday, you know. I'm sorry, baby"

Awwwww.

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry about earlier, though"

"Baby, there is nothing for you to be sorry for, okay? In that case, it's me who should say sorry for anything. I really did care about you right from the start it's just that...I didn't want to admit it, you know? I didn't know whether I was ready for a relationship or not. I know in that way, I was leading you on and I'm sorry for that. But I truly did enjoy and care for you from the bottom of my heart. I just kept trying to convince myself that I didn't want anything else from you..."

I listen silently. He continues...

"...And also, I'm sorry about the café. But we weren't anything to begin with. You were the only girl I talked with throughout the whole time I was sort of seeing you. But after the incident, I started to realise how much of a fucking douche I was to you. But the more realising I did, the more I realised how much I actually cared about you. And that's when I started taking all the gummies and weed again because I needed something to get my frustration off on. But I also worked hard to stop using them because of you. That's when I realised I was in love with you. I was so fucking in love with you that I started to dig up old unhealthy coping mechanisms to cope again which I stopped doing solely because you told me to do so. I felt back because I felt as if I was betraying you but I had already betrayed you so what was the point, I thought. I tried to go to parties to find girls to release my stress but non of them were you so I'd end up disgusted and leave. I'm so fucking sorry, I became a mess"

He stops talking, releasing a sigh. We stay in silence for about 10 seconds before I break it.

"Jungkook, it's alright. I'm glad you told me and everything is fine now, hm? Thank you for telling me. I understand your side and I also forgive you. I'll help you clean your room. I'll help you with everything. And I can't give you an answer for your confession right now, okay? But we can definitely go on a date" I smile, tilting my head to the side.

Jungkook squeals out of happiness, pulling me into his embrace.

"Thank you so much, baby. Take all your time and thank you so much." He responds, the shaking of his voice from earlier now nowhere to be heard.

He leans down to place a kiss on the top of my head, pulling me closer into his embrace while we continued to watch TV.

Maybe this is for the best. This feels right. And I want this. Yeah.

"I like this" I say

"I like you"

I know you'd miss me once the thrill expired, and you'd be standing in my front porch light. And I knew you'd come back to me.

a/n : hii sorry this took a while to post 😭🙏🏽 i been busyyyy. thank you soo much for reading and hope you liked it :)

#Spotify #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #smut #fanfiction #bts jk #bts smut #fanfic

811 notes · View notes

reidspharb · 11 months

Text

The Moment I Knew

*Part two

Summary: Spencer misses your 25th birthday and that’s when you realize your relationship can’t be fixed.

Word count: 800 or something idk ICBA shes a short one

Warnings: angst, Reid is a shitty boyfriend in this one

Note: hi this was written at 3 am and I’m new to writing so if this sucks sorry anyways but I got this idea from Taylor Swifts song by the Same name and I thought I would write it so yeah enjoy

Sure, you were so happy all your friends were there and everyone was having a good time… but you couldn’t help but think about Spence.

It was 10 pm, the party started at 8 and he still wasn’t there like he promised. You couldn’t help but think about him coming through the door right now, gifts in hand as he did on your last birthday with that baby I’m right here smile.

You knew he couldn’t be here, and you knew how much he valued his work, but, he wasn’t even on a case far away… he was here, in Virginia, and he couldn’t even call to wish you a happy birthday.

Your eyes were locked on the door most of the time as you socialized. People asked about him, about your relationship, and the most you could give them was a sad smile and a dishonest word about how great everything was going.

“So how have you been,” your friend Sarah said as she laughed and took a sip of her drink “I mean I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

you plastered on the brightest fake smile you could and mustered up an answer just normal enough to get you by.

“I've been okay, you know, with work and everything.”

All you could think about was him, how he said he would be there. He told you- no he promised you weeks in advance that he would be here. But he’s not.

You felt stupid, standing there all dolled up in your tight black dress and red lipstick. You thought maybe if you dressed up nice he would make sure to be there, but then again, there you were with no one to impress.

You knew it was hopeless, there you were on your birthday staring at the door and watching the clock tick as everyone around you danced and laughed. You looked around the room, trying to spot him in the crowd but who were you fooling, you knew he wasn’t there.

As you listened to your loved ones sing happy birthday around you, you could only hear his voice in your memory. When you blew out those candles your only wish was for him to be there with you. You should’ve been so happy, but he was the one thing missing.

Then it was 1 am, and you were barely tipsy. you already had a nervous stomach, you knew drinking would only make it worse. By now you were sick of everyone being around you, you just wanted to be alone. You stumbled to the bathroom over some discarded red cups and locked yourself in there, tears burning at your eyes when you saw yourself in the mirror.

You did your makeup the way he liked it too so that if you sent pictures he really wouldn’t miss it, such a naive thing to think you told yourself. You heard a knock on your door and there were your two best friends, Tegan and Oliver, mixed with the emotions of seeing them staring at you with so much pity in their eyes and Spencer being away made you break down.

Tegan held you as you sobbed, mascara dripping down your cheeks with every tear.

“He said- he said he would be here…”

“I'm so sorry, love bug, I wish I could grab him and rip him into pieces. You deserve so much better.” Said Oliver, holding your cold hands.

You felt so embarrassed, sitting there in front of your friends crying about some stupid boy. But he was the one who meant the most to you and he wasn’t there.

The next morning you woke up on your couch, head pounding. Your apartment was trashed, there were plastic cups scattered all over the room. As you stepped over them to get ready for the day, you felt a sharp pain in your chest as you heard Spencer’s familiar ringtone playing from your phone.

“Hey doll, it’s me” he sighed on the other line of the phone.

“Hi, Spencer.” You mumbled. You knew it would hurt to say his whole name instead of the nickname you’d been calling him since the day you met him.

“I'm so sorry I didn’t make it babe I was caught up in paperwork and I lost tra-“ you interrupted his rambling, you didn’t care anymore.

“It’s fine. I’ll talk to you later Spencer.” You hissed into the phone before hitting the red button on the screen and setting your phone back down on the counter.

That was the moment you knew.

That was the moment you knew that this would never work out.

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nervoussagittarius · 29 days

Text

i know it’s crazy but he’s the one i want

matt sturniolo x reader

summary: part two of strike out. after months of being apart y/n realizes she wants nothing more then to be with matt, and matt realizes how much he fucked up. part one

warnings: angst to smut. oral (fem receiving), p in v, no protection, matchmakers nick and chris

they slammed the door on

my whole world

the one thing i wanted

your world felt like it was turned completely upside down the minute you locked your front door on matt.

you wanted to run after him. you wanted to forgive him for everything, but something in you was telling you to hold back, to stay strong. you weren’t even sure if you knew the matt that stood with you 10 minutes ago. after a month of no contact there’s so much that could’ve changed. you definitely had changed. one one thing that stayed the same though was that you still couldn’t go more the an hour without thinking of matthew sturniolo.

matt blew up your phone that whole night. it took everything in you not to drive over to his house. you were a mess and he didn’t need to see you like that. you were supposed to be strong. you were the one who told him to leave after all.

a few more days past before you got a couple texts and a call from chris. you hesitantly answered. you hated to admit it but you missed him and nick. you missed matt too but you weren’t ready to admit that one out loud yet. “hello?” you answered. there was a beat of silence before you heard a sigh of relief from the other line. “hey y/n it’s chris. listen, i know you haven’t wanted to talk to us, and i understand, but nick and i need your help.” he sounded so stressed that you couldn’t help but worry about the pair. he didn’t give you time to respond before he continued his thought. “i know you don’t want to be with matt anymore, but he hasn’t left his room in almost a week. nick and i completely understand why you did what you did. matt told us what happened.. but he locked himself in and we don’t know what to do.” you teared up at the thought of matt being alone. yeah he enjoyed being by himself sometimes, but never to this extent. you couldn’t help but feel guilt for the way things went down. at the end of the day you were both in the wrong, and you desperately wanted to make things right.

“please just come talk to him. come see him. we tried to wait as long as we could to call you but it’s time. we have your back but he’s still our brother, and we don’t want to see him like this. nick and i really miss you. matt misses you” you didn’t confirm or deny if you would really show up. you wanted to talk to him. as much as he hurt you he didn’t deserve to feel how you have felt for months. you knew how shitty it was. “i miss you guys too.” and with that you ended the call. you didn’t need to specify who you were referring too. chris knew that you meant all three of them, and he hoped that you would come help his brother.

no i’m not coming to my senses

i know it’s crazy but he’s

the one i want

it took you almost two hours to work up the courage to go to the triplets house. you got in and out of your car 3 different times before you convinced yourself to finally turn it on and start driving. the directions were muscle memory at this point. having spent the last two years driving the same streets at least once a day, you weren’t a stranger to the street signs and the traffic. although it was almost 1 in the morning you had no worries about if the boys were awake or not. they always were at this time.

you felt weird pulling into their driveway. a spot that was once reserved for you now felt like a curse. it felt like you’d end up with three slashed tires if you parked there so you opted for parking in the street two houses down. this way if you chickened out before you made it to the door they’d never know.

you didn’t though. you couldn’t because the minute you stepped foot onto their doorstep nick threw open the door. no words were exchanged between the two of you. he instantly pulled you into a hug. you both needed it after the month and a half you just had. “i’m so glad you’re here” all you could do is hold him tighter in response. tears filled your eyes as chris made his way down the front steps to you both. he took his turn pulling you into a hug as well. when you broke apart he ran a soothing hand up and down your arm and let you walk to the living room.

the three of you sat on the couch together and you pulled your legs up into you. single tears streamed down your face every once and a while as you waited for someone to talk. “he doesn’t know you’re here,” nick started. “we didn’t want to tell him and freak him out.” “oh so he’s not allowed to be freaked out so i have to be. got it” you regretted it as soon as you got the sentence out. “sorry. fuck i’m sorry guys. i really just- i don’t know what i’m doing here.” you ran a hand through your hair nervously.

“it’s okay y/n/n we get it. we really just think you guys should talk.” chris said patting your knee. “yeah, we don’t want to pressure you but we think it will help both of you get some closure. so you sit here. we’re going to go out for a little bit, give you some space. if you decide you want to leave then please do so, but we won’t be upset if you’re here when we get back.” they gave you soft smiles as they made their way out of the house leaving you with your thoughts.

once you got the tears to stop, you knew that if you didn’t get off the couch now you would never make it to matt’s room. you were hesitant to knock. you didn’t hear anything in the otherside of the door. you were almost hoping he was asleep so you could go home and forget this ever happened.

as you began to raise your hand the door slowly opened. matt’s head was hung low looking at his phone. your lips parted slightly in shock. he quickly looked up when he noticed someone was standing there. “i- sorr- i um- i have to go.” you barely got out. as you tried turning so you could walk in the other room. “y/n?” matt was in shock and confused. you were the last person he expected to see. he just wanted to run over and hug you, but he kept his restraint. you rushed over to the couch looking for your keys. “i’m sorry i shouldn’t have come. chris and nick called me and i was worried about you but i really shouldn’t be here.” when you got nervous you just talked fast. your mouth couldn’t keep up with all the thoughts running through your head.

matt hadn’t moved from his doorway. he was frozen watching you pace the living room. when he finally came to his senses he spoke up to stop you. “wait please stop. please. i want to talk to you.” matt rushed over to you and grabbed your hand trying to get you to look at him. he fully expected you to pull away, but his confidence slightly boosted when you didn’t.

“please.” he repeated. “please come sit with me.” his words were soft and nervous. you nodded looking up at him. he walked you over to his room hand in hand. matt gestured for you to sit in his bed as he sat across from you. you decided to talk first. you just wanted to know he was okay. “um. your brothers asked me to come talk to you. they said you hadn’t left your room, and i know i shouldn’t be, because of the way we ended things, but i was really worried about you, matt. i don’t want you to be upset. i know i was really mean and i’m so sorry-” “no. please do not apologize.” he reached over to hold your hands. “i deserved everything you said to me. you were right. please look at me, sweetheart. i have been a mess because i feel so shitty about the way i treated you. and i couldn’t look at chris and nick because they lost you too. i feel so fucking bad.”

“i know you do, baby. i want to forgive you i really do, but i can’t go back to the way things were.” both of you had tears running down your faces. you just wanted to hold each other and forget everything. “i promise i can be better. i promise that i can do better. you deserve better then i’ve ever treated you and i will work my ass off everyday to prove that to you.” you moved closer to matt as you held his face and used the pads of your thumbs to wipe his tears. you leaned your forehead against his as you sat there debating what to say. “i know you will, matt. i believe you.” “do you really?” he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. he wanted nothing more then to kiss you but he couldn’t push your boundaries. “i do, baby. i’m so in love with you. i don’t know how i’ve spent this long without you.” you said slightly leaning in to matt.

both of you flicked your eyes between your lips and back to each others eyes. “i love you too.” matt said. “can i please kiss you?” he asked nervously. you guys had kissed millions of times before but something was different this time. you guys felt closer. “please, matt. you can do anything to me.” and with that your lips instantly connected. you two melted into eachother as the kiss deepened. he quickly swiped his tongue against your bottom lip asking for entrance which you accepted. “let me show you how sorry i am?” “please.”

he was chaos, he was revelry

bedroom eyes look like a remedy

matt gently pushed your back down onto his mattress. he took his lips off of yours as he pecked his way down your neck. your hands traveled down his chest as you pulled on the edge of his shirt. he took notice to this and hastily removed the piec rod fabric. he sent you pleading eyes as you nodded at him to take yours off as well. he took your bra off with it and trailed his hand down your arm to intertwine your fingers. your unoccupied hand went to matt’s hair as he placced soft kissed to your boobs. he’s movements become desperate as he attached his lips to my nipple as he gently sucked.

soft pants came out of your mouth as you pushed matt’s head lower towards where you were craving him most. he tilted his head up at you with a smug grin. “yeah baby, is that what you want?” he smirked at you as he shimmied your legs out of your pants and threw them to the corner of his room. he traveled down lower as he started to spread your legs letting him lay between them. he breath met your clit and he turned his head to bite the inside of your thigh.

“tell me what you need, sweetheart” “you, matt. i need you to touch me.” you rushed out. you needed to be close to him. you just wanted to feel him. matt pulled your underwear to the side and ran a finger through your slit. his cold hands tips sent goose bumps through your body. you swallowed thickly as he sent one quick lick to your core. he looked at you for a reaction only to get a nod of encouragement from you.

matt hummed while he wrapped one hand around your thigh spreading you farther apart for him. he slowly leaned into you dipping is tongue deeper into your wet folds. matt could feel the blood rushing to his cock due to your small pants and moans. the tight grip on his hair only encouraged him to keep going. you let out a small scream as he slowly began to enter his fingers into you. “fuck matt just like that.” you said as his middle and ring fingers curled up hitting that spongy spot. matt hummed into your cunt as he violently licked your clit.

neither of you had touched yourselves or anyone else in over a month. the pent up frustration made things go a lot faster then either of you expected. matt began rutting his hips softly into his mattress trying to relieve the tension he was feeling. you clenched around his fingers signally your close orgasm. matt’s head came up as his fingers still thrusted into you. “that feel good, baby. you gonna cum for me. come on, sweetheart. cum for me.” matt didn’t let up as your moans got louder if anything it made him to go in with more force. your orgasm came fast and hard. matt continued sucking as you came down from your high. you panted as matt slowly pulled his fingers out of you.

you started to sit up you you could return the favor only to be pushed back down as matt met you in a kiss. “no baby. tonight’s about you. i just want to make you feel good. i want to show you how sorry i am.” you looked at him with puppy dog eyes. “you do make me feel good matt. just let me return the favor.” you were quickly cut off by the sound of matt’s pants being pulled down. he shock his head at you to deny your request and your hand found the waistband of his boxers as you began to pull his cock out.

he was hard and somehow looked bigger then you remembered. matt’s head fell forward when you started stroking him. his arm that he was using to hold himself up almost giving out at the sensation. you ran his cock through your folds wetting him from you arousal and his precum. he took control as he slid into you, giving you a second to adjust, and then bottoming out at the sign of your approval.

you both let out signs as matt started thrusting into you. he ran his hand up and down your side and placed long kisses on your neck. certain to leave at least one hickey. matt was fully immersed in you. “matt please don’t stop. faster..fuck.” matt had every intention on taking his time with you tonight, to really show you how he feels, but he couldn’t turn down the opportunity. “fuck baby.” matt said speeding up. “faster? you want me to fuck you faster hm? tell me how good i’m making you feel baby.” matt kept up his pace as your hands found his back. your nails scratched down his skin leaving red marks in their trail. you threw your head back in pleasure when matt began rubbing your clit in figure eight motions. your noises only got louder but you were so fucked out that matt laughed when you couldn’t form a sentence. “you got it baby. you’re doing to good for me.” matt’s hips slammed into you surely leaving bruises. “tell me how good i’m making you feel. use your words.”

with one hand on your clit and the other brushing hair off of your forehead, matt soon approached his first orgasm of the night. you gasped and tried to catch your breath to say coherent words. “shit- i- god you’re doing so good, mmh. you feel so good. don’t stop. gonna cum.” you quickly reached your second orgasm. “yeah, you gonna cum,” matt taunted as his motions became sloppy. “good girl, cum with me, y/n.”

both of your orgasms built rapidly and didn’t disappoint. your head flew back in pleasure as matt lowly groaned and let out a small whimper. he rode out both of your orgasms and you reached out to out your head in this chest as you became overstimulated. matt slowly pulled out and fell down beside you as he leaned for his shirt to clean you up. “i love you.” you said as you rolled over to place your head in his chest. “i love you most.” he replied giving a kiss to the top of your head.

thinking it can change the

beat of my heart when he touches me

and counteract the chemistry

and undo the destiny

matt and you layed in a comfortable silence as you held each other. no one could ruin this moment for you two. you saw the comments over the months that you had ruined matt or that you’re a whore and you didn’t deserve him. no one knew the real truth. matt and you were made for each other. you didn’t believe in soulmates until matt came around.

you were still in matt’s bed when nick and chris got home that night. sound asleep you two basked in the presence of eachother. matt’s two brothers saw his bedroom door slightly ajar, they made their way over to see what was going on.

with no comment they smiled at each other noticing your states. they were happy to have their favorite couple back.

you ain’t gotta pray for me

me and my wild boy

and all this wild joy

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo snaps #matt x reader #matt sturniolo

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purple-writer8 · 1 month

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Long Story Short - ACOTAR

“And he’s passing by, rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. And he feels like home, if the shoe fits walk in it everywhere you go.”

warnings: war, war injuries, past relationship tension, new mating bond, self doubt, angst (but like not a lot), allusions to sex

1.9k words

Part 2 to Closure

Masterlist :)

You fought in the Winter Court battle along with Thesan and the Dawn Court’s Peregryn legion. You were a skilled warrior, trained by Rhysand himself— you used to love training, now you despised those memories.

Looking into the mirror in your bathchamber, you flinched as your fingers grazed over the purple bruises forming on the side of your face. It wasn’t pretty, it was horribly gnarly looking. A Hybern warrior had given you a hard blow to the face, beating you to the ground. If it wasn’t for one of the Peregryn warriors, Thesan would have probably needed to plan a funeral for you.

It was all a blur. One day you were mourning Rhysand and your failed romance, the next you were fighting in a war alongside him and all of the other courts. You had told Azriel that you did not care to make amends, and you meant it. But this was for a greater good.

A soft knock came upon the bathchamber, making you snap out of your haze and exit to find your brother standing there. Thesan looked miserable. Your brother was a protector, ever since you knew reason, and this war— the casualties— took a steep toll on his mental health. “Why are you here?”

He was supposed to be back in the war camp with everyone else. You only left because you did not wish to heal and sleep amongst Feyre and Rhysand. The wounds in your heart still needed time to heal.

“Azriel is hurt.” Thesan looked distraught. You could not explain the way that your heart plummeted at those three simple words. For some reason, it made your heart ache— the thought of Azriel hurt. “It’s his wings. I could not heal them… they are not the same as Callan’s. Will you try?” Thesan asked, and instantly you nodded. Your healing abilities were good, almost as good as his. You could try.

Your brother grabbed you and in a blink of an eye, you were winnowed away.

A chill ran down your spine when you winnowed into Azriel’s tent. He was screaming, Rhysand holding him down as he writhed in the bed— his wings shredded in a horrible manner. You felt yourself freeze, eyes wide— it was like you could feel his pain— and you would do anything to stop it. You would rather take on his pain than let him feel it.

Rhysand was there too, but for the first time ever, you didn’t even glance at him. No, instead you rushed to Azriel, kneeling besides him. There was something in your heart, something that made you strain, that broke you— all because you saw him in pain.

He stopped his thrashing when your hand reached for his face, his hazel eyes widening by the bruise that overtook your own face. “What happened?” He asked, as if he weren’t the one with shredded wings.

“Nothing. I am fine,” you assured him, feeling like he was truly gravely worried for your wellbeing. His eyes remained on you, searching all over your body for more injuries. “I am not the problem, please sit so I can heal you. Please,” you begged him, feeling like you couldn’t breathe the longer you stared at his wings.

He sat up, and you got to work.

You spent all night working on his wings, and by dawn they already looked much better than when you had come in. Azriel had fallen asleep, and he had slept peacefully for many hours all while you watched over him. You did not sleep at all, you were sick with worry.

“Thanks for coming, I know that you took a harsh beating in Winter,” that velvety voice you had once worshipped whispered from the doorway. To turn and see Rhysand there, in Azriel’s tent, made you angry.

You almost wanted to tell him to leave, but you were in no place to make commands. This was still his camp. “I came for Azriel. He doesn’t deserve this,” you responded bitterly and you meant it.

Ever since that talk the two of you had in your balcony, you had become obssesed with the shadowsinger. For some reason, you could not get him out of your head, even in the battle, while killing and fighting— you thought of him. “Well, I thank you. Thesan was drained after the battle and struggled to heal him… when he said you would do it… I doubted,” Rhys confessed, his violet eyes drifting to his sleeping brother.

“You think I am so selfish that I wouldn’t heal him just because he is your friend?” You asked, and you truly tried to reel in your emotions, but they were too strong for you to control. It wasn’t even about Rhys, you realized, it was about him thinking you wouldn’t help Azriel.

“You can sometimes be selfish, yes.” Rhysand shrugged, and you wanted to lunge foward and strangle him for suggesting you were selfish. He was the epitome of selfishness, and here he stood— accusing you after you came and healed his brother.

You had tried avoiding him ever since Thesan told you the Dawn Court would fight alongside him against Hybern. You tried picking your battles, and decided Rhysand was not a battle worth fighting, yet here the battle stood, picking you.

You decided to ignore the dig, your gaze drifting to the still asleep shadowsinger and asking, “how did he get so hurt?”

“He went to save Feyre’s sister from the Hybern camp,” he replied, and you could not explain the jealousy that surged within you at the mention of Azriel saving that girl.

Those freaks of nature bring more harm to Prythian than good, you wanted to tell Rhysand about his mate and sisters, but once more figured it wasn’t a battle worth picking.

A groan escaped the shadowsinger, and instantly you ran to his side, helping him sit up in bed. His facial expression was one of pain, and you knew taht he was trying his best to mask it. But you knew... you felt his pain.

“How are you?” Azriel croaked, his voice more hoarse than usual due to all of the pain filled screams he let out the night before. You scoffed in disbelief, “me?! I am not the one whose wings were torn apart.”

He winced at the reminder, but still his hazel eyes did not leave yours. “You healed me…” he said in the gentlest of tones, making your heart skip a beat. You frowned, wondering why in all of Prythian your heart was thundering inside your chest.

“Will he heal fine?” Rhysan’s icy tone snapped you out of the trance Azriel has you in. You turned to him and nodded, scowling at the High Lord. “He will heal completely but he will not be able to fly for a while.”

Azriel protested, saying how he felt fine. Though one cold glare from you made him sink back down unto the bed. Rhysand noticed this, how you were able to tame down Azriel with just a look. “For how long?” The High Lord asked.

“For a few weeks, at least. For the health of his wings, he can not fight anymore battles…” you trailed, looking at Azriel with a solemn expression. You somehow knew he wanted to fight, to protect his family and Prythian.

“How is Elain?” Azriel asked Rhysand, and you snarled. You had always been a jealous female, but always over Rhys, never over anyone else.

“Fine. Shaken up but fine, everyone is fine… we will be meeting up later today to discuss some things. Join us, Az…” Rhys’ violet eyes shifted to you, “you may as well.”

“Thanks for the permission,” you mumbled sarcastically.

Rhysand stared at you. A cold, unforgiving glare, then soon after you felt those talons you had once adored caressing your mind. He wasn’t looking for a way in, no, he was reminding you who he was— what he could do. You didn’t say anything, only glared at him as he left Azriel’s tent.

A beat passed and you turned to the shadowsinger, “I’ll get you some food.” You were quick to your feet, and before Azriel could protest, out the tent you went.

You didn’t understand your new and— quite blinding— feelings regarding the Night Court’s shadowsinger. You’d known Azriel for almost a century, and you had never cared for him further than for friendship. And now, suddenly, you felt as if you had been stabbed when Rhysand said he had been hurt because he went to save another female.

Was this your mind’s sick way to get over Rhysand? You stood over a pot of rice that boiled on top of a bonfire, filling a ceremic pot you had found with rice and chicken for Azriel.

Azriel. While you swooned over Azriel, some Ilyrian warrior snatched the plate from your hands and walked off. You shouted an obscenity, but the male’s glare made you shrink back into yourself.

Fuck your life. You looked back to the pot that had been cooking and realized that plate contained the very last of the rice and chicken. You couldn’t let Azriel starve.

You groaned and got some more rice from a nearby sack, throwing it in the boiling pot and letting it cook. A yawn escaped your lips as you watched the rice cook, then a few minutes later— it was ready for him. You served him a big bowl and went back to his tent.

You went inside, only to find Azriel squirming in bed, his large wings twitching uncontrollably. You gasped, setting the bowl down and rushing to him. “What happened?!” You shrieked as you tended to him.

“It’s nothing, really. I just stood up too fast,” he tried keeping it cool, but you knew well that he was hurting. You looked up at his face, and you gasped when you felt it.

A mating bond snapping inside your soul. So strong it almost sent you flying to the floor.

“What the fuck?!” You asked in shock, your chest rising and falling in a heratic manner as you stared up at the Ilyrian male. He looked devastated, solemn as he looked at you. “Im sorry…” he whispered, and you frowned.

“Why would you apologize?” You asked, still reeling from the knowledge of who your mate was. “It is disappointing, I know. To be mated to me instead of who you always wanted. If you wish to reject me…”

“Why would I reject you?” You asked in shock, your mind running an entire marathon as you thought about everything that this meant. Azriel was your mate… Rhysand’s brother was your mate. You had known him for ninety years and you never felt the bond, no… because you were in love with someone else before ever meeting him.

“Why would you accept me?” You reeled from his words, and your heart— you could feel it— begged you to accept him.

Because you thought back to the years you lived in Velaris, to your interactions with Azriel and the Inner Circle.

One Winter Solstice, before Under the Mountain, you and Rhysand got into it— and it was bad— one of the biggest fights you had ever had. You had left the townhouse in a hurry, not even putting on your shoes and coat. Rhysand demanded you to come back, his voice thundering in your mind over and over again. You didn’t. You were so mad, you sat in a small Velaris coffee shop— freezing to death— until Azriel appeared.

He held your shoes and a coat. You wondered if Rhysand had sent him, though he hadn’t— because Rhysand was still ordering you back in your mind.

As you recalled the many times Azriel only ever showed you kindness and gentleness, you took the bowl of rice you had made, handing it to him.

His hazel eyes widened in shock. He looked at the bowl, as if it was the most grandiose thing in the world. “You are serious?” He asked, his tone soft and gentle.

“Please eat, Azriel.”

Two Years Later

Losing Rhysand felt like falling off a precipice. Loving Azriel was like climbing right back up that hill. It was absolutely everything. Your mate was… perfection reincarnated. He swooped in. Just when your life could not get worse— he came in and turned it all around.

You never thought in a million years that Azriel would be, could be your mate. You had pined for Rhysand for ninety years for cauldron’s sake. But now… now you only ever thought of your doting mate, of the male that taught you that love could be something beautiful, something that you didn’t have to beg for or ask for. It was given freely, willingly.

You were currently sitting on your bed, preparing the final touches for Azriel’s winter solstice gift. It was already noon, and he had spent the day with his family in the Night Court as you had asked him to. He had wanted to skip his family’s celebration, but you didn’t let him.

Your relationship with the IC was still difficult, you and Rhysand were not yet completely healed from your ninety year tryst— but regardless of that, you never wanted Azriel to push his family away. Even though Rhysand and him had definitely grown apart.

Rhysand didn’t care about the bond, that was what he claimed. But then he grew hostile, and always sent Azriel on long missions— away from the Dawn Court where you resided, or he didn’t let Azriel visit you. He wasn’t jealous, obviously. He had a mate and now a son. Rhysand just did not think you were enough for Azriel.

You hummed a solstice tune as you fixed up the little gift box, and just as you finished it, your beautiful mate winnowed into your room. You squealed, lunging at him and wrapping your arms around his neck, eagerly kissinng him.

Azriel chuckled, “my angel seems happy to see me.” He hugged you back, despite the flowers he held in his beautiful hands. You nuzzled your face into his chest, warmth and love engulfing your senses instantly. Azriel was your home.

He kissed the top of your head as you pulled away. “How was it?” You asked him, watching as he moved to his dresser, carefully discarding all of his leathers. “Good, but would have been better if my angel mate was there,” he groaned the last part, still upset he didn’t spend winter solstice morning with you.

“Your angel mate was preparing your gift and spending the day with Thesan in the village,” you answered in a chirpy manner. You did not care that he hadn’t been there in the morning. All you cared was seeing him, period.

You watched as he changed his leathers into more comfortable clothing, salivating as you ogled the way his muscles flexed with any sort of movement. After he was done, he turned to you, a smirk adorning his handsome face, “ready for your gift?”

“Are you my gift?” You asked excitedly, making him laugh as he grabbed a tiny box from his discarded coat pocket and strided across the room towards you. Cauldron forgive you, but this male was your religion. “No… well… later.” He said, his voice gentle and soothing as always.

His loving arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you closer into his figure. You looked up at him, smiling as he leaned down to engulf you in a passionate kiss. “I go first,” he whispers as he pulls away and hands you the velvety sapphire blue box.

You squealed and opened it to reveal two sets of keys. You smiled, eyeing the pieces of metal before looking up at Azriel with inquiring eyes. “I bought us a house in Velaris… near the hills…” He trailed off.

He eyed you for your reaction and then his wings twitched in excitement, “and a home here, in the city.” At that statement you gasped.

“What?!” You shrieked, eyeing the keys in sheer shock. He had bought two houses?! For you?!

“We can never agree on a place to live. You don’t want me away from my family, and I don’t want you away from your brother. So I figured… we split our time as we wish… I’ve spoken to both Rhysand and Thesan and they have agreed, we can go and come as we please. We get to live together without sacrificing our lives in our home courts.” Azriel explained, and the way he spoke made your insides flutter beyond remedy.

“You are serious?” You asked in shock, not expecting such a thoughtful and frankly, expensive gift. Azriel nodded, “all I want is to be near you. I will buy a home wherever you want as long as I have you. I know you don’t want me to leave my family… and I would hate for you to have to compromise for me…”

“I… fuck, my gift is so bad.” You cursed, rubbing your temple as happy tears swelled your eyes at the thoughtfulness of your mate. Thoughtfulness a partner had never given you in the three centuries you had lived.

“Angel, you are the only gift I will ever need. You know that. This bond… is everything I ever wanted, and more.” Azriel kissed your forehead as he soothed you. You rested your head on his chest until he asked, “is my gift the leather cuffs I wanted for my armor?”

“Yes.” You groaned.

“Fuck yeah, angel. Cassian will be so jealous when he sees what Nuan came up with.” You giggled at his words and handed him the box.

You watched as your mate eagerly opened and then put on the brand new mechanical cuffs. They were black and blue, and had some features that apparently would make him a more unbeatable opponent. “I feel like this is so bad compared to the TWO houses you just gave me.”

“Sweetheart,” he frowned, “you think I kid when I say my mate is my most exquisite, excellent gift?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, only for him to tackle you to the bed, his wings flaring wide as he peppered your face with sweet kisses all over. “You are all I have ever wanted.”

You laughed gleefully and gave in to your loving mate.

Long story short, you survived.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @wallacewillow0773638 @lilah-asteria

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castiwls · 1 month

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fearless - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'And I don't know why but with you I'd dance, In a storm in my best dress, fearless'

Requested; @fuiabarcelos

Notes;tysm for the request <3 requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

“What are you doing out here? It’s pouring down.” Sam’s voice surprised you slightly as you looked up from the spot you’d been searching. “Looking for her ring, she’s dropped it.” You picked up the table cover frowning slightly when you saw nothing.

The day had started off bright and sunny, the day most little girls would dream of for their wedding. The morning of the wedding the weather was warm yet that slowly began to change. You’d noticed around the midday point that clouds had started gathering above but you’d happily ignored it, too caught up in the celebrations to care about the weather change.

Not long after the rain started pouring down on the marquee and everyone quickly rushed inside. During the chaos, your sister had someone who dropped her ring which had led to you offering to stay and look.

Pulling up another table cloth you squinted slightly at the ground until a small glimmer caught your eye. “Ah. Found it!” You held the ring up to him before standing. “Thank god, I was starting to think we were gonna have to find a replacement.” You came to stand before Sam holding the ring out to him. “Put it in your pocket.”

He nodded taking it from you and placing it into his coat pocket. Letting out a breath you finally looked him over properly frowning slightly. “Is it raining that bad?” He laughed running a hand through his hair feeling the droplets of water run down his arm.

“Pretty sure it’s a storm.” He smiled pulling off his jacket. He threw it over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the entrance. “It’s peaceful in a way.” He turned his head to look at you. In a weird way it was. “It reminds me of that one scene in Singing in the Rain.” You smiled up at him before looking back to the entrave. “I always wanted to try that but my mum was too worried I’d get sick.” You laughed quietly at the memory of trying to convince your mum to let you go out into the rain and bounce around to your heart's content.

Sam thought for a moment. The rain had slowly begun picking up and was now visibly bouncing off the floor of the patio outside. The faint sound of music could be heard from the party which continued in the small hall nearby.

“Well,” Taking a step forward he turned and held out a hand. “Your mum’s not here now.” Sam smiled watching your eyes light up at his idea. You had to both go through the rain anyway to get back to the venue. Realistically no one would know.

Placing your hand in his you felt him gently pull you out of the tent. A small gasp left your lips as the rain first made contact with your skin. It was colder than you’d originally thought but the coldness quickly disappeared when you felt Sam pull you into his chest.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing up on your toes slightly as he curled an arm around your waist. Tilting your head back, you closed your eyes feeling the rain gently roll down your face.

The last few weeks had been the most stressful of your life with wedding planning yet being here made it all worth it. Sam grinned down at you as he slowly swayed back and forth. It had been a long time since he’d thought of marriage, nevermind been to a wedding but being here with you made him think that maybe one day it could be possible.

“I love you.” He whispered watching as you looked back to him. “I love you too.” He slowly closed the gap between you both, pulling you closer by your waist.

The rain continued to fall as he pulled back before he suddenly spun you round causing a laugh to erupt from you. You both knew there was a high chance you would wake up tomorrow not just hungover but also sick but in that moment none of that mattered.

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fear-less · 2 months

Text

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 the last time

paring: james potter x reader x regulus black

warnings: angst, fluff?? maybe idk, ngl this is mostly james’ pov rarely shows regulus x reader scenes 🗣️❓, lowkey cringy, lowkey left on a cliff hangernot poly it’s james x reader then turns into reg x reader :3, use of y/n, lily is not cool in this sorry 😞😞 but love her, house doesn’t matter but it does mention that reader is not in gryffindor, there’s a couple of taylor references in this fic😜

a/n: here’s this bc i’m writing a request rn🙏🗣️

3.2k words ^_^

You had always thought James was your soulmate. You had shared so many happy memories, only dating for a year and a half but being friends longer. You never imagined a world without him.

But good things never last forever, especially when it’s something good happening to you. You never expected for James to break up with you, at least not for another girl he was slowly falling in love with, not for the girl he told you not to worry about.

“She’s just a friend,” you had recounted the amount of times he had told you those words. As much as he said them, he clearly never listened to them.

You had watched them get close together, everyone had known before you, Lily had his heart, but he had told you multiple times he loved you and only you. So why is he leaving you right now for her?

You could feel the flowers you two grew together dying of thirst.

Clearly, the feelings never died for her, as they were assigned to be partners in Transfiguration class for a project; you could see his change in attitude. He was slowly becoming distant.

But he clearly didn’t care anymore about your feelings as he flat out told you he was leaving you for Lily.

“Why?” you knew why. Everyone did.

“I just love her. I always knew she would be the one. I’m sorry.”

“If you knew she was ‘always the one,’ why did you get into a relationship with me? To play with the feelings?” you screamed, finally had enough of his crap.

That very day, you had walked out of the Gryffindor common room, would be the last.

You had cut all contact with James. Yes, you were friends with the other Marauders, but not close enough. You had ignored them anytime they would talk to you, only talking to them if it was important.

It had only been five days since your awful break up with James, five. Five days and he was already asking Lily out, and she had said yes.

You found out when you heard three girls gossiping in the library, you had run out the second you heard those words.

Were you that easy to get over?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

‘I should be happy’ is what James keeps telling himself. He has the girl of his dreams laying on him right now! Why isn’t he smiling like a man in love? Why is he thinking about you?

He broke up with you because it was never going to be you. So why did he almost call Lily your name?

It had been a month since the breakup. In that month, he had celebrated his anniversary with Lily. They had been over the moon that day, thankful it was a Hogsmeade weekend. But that whole trip made him think of you. Especially when Lily got the same drink you always got.

He never realized how much he loved you. He misses your stupid jokes, your smile, the way you would always laugh at his jokes and pranks.

Lily would never be you, you would never be Lily. Ever. You would never make him feel bad for saying one silly joke. You would never discourage him from pulling a prank, as long as it didn’t hurt him. You would always drop what you were doing to be with him, Lily wouldn’t. He wasn’t used to that, wasn’t used to anything Lily was.

He was quickly lost in thought, not even listening to anything Lily was saying, until she slapped his hand, finally catching his attention back.

“What’s for you so deep in thought?” Lily said, her face holding a confused expression.

“Just about you, of course. Can’t wait to go more on these dates, till we are old and wrinkly.” James quickly said, not wanting to actually tell her what he was thinking.

Lily had smiled at that. Not knowing that those words were the words you would tell him almost every time you two were on dates. Making jokes about being together till you were old and wrinkly but so in love, still going on weekly dates.

James was stuck. Stuck in the past where he had you. He wishes more than anything to go back to that very same night and change things.

As stuck as James was, he told himself that he was just confused. He didn’t miss you, no! Maybe he was sick, so he’s thinking of you, yeah! That’s right, he doesn’t really care about you, he’s just sick.

He wishes to not be sick for long.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It had now been seven months. Seven months and you had never been more happier than now. Around the sixth month, you had realized how much you had gotten over James. Not searching for him in the halls to not run into him, in the Great Hall, anywhere anymore.

You never noticed the little things you did that lead to you finally getting over James. But he did. He longed for the attention you gave him before entering a class you shared, before making a turn, before entering the Great Hall and walking past the Gryffindor table to get to your own houses table.

Seven months later, you were now clean, as you liked to say it. In that very month, you had been paired with Regulus Black for a project for Potions. The project was worth a lot and a very lengthy one at that. Making you and Regulus have to actually talk and not do the work silently and awkwardly.

That very same day, you two had agreed to meet in the library an hour and a half before supper.

That night had been one of the best you had in months. Laughter filling the side of the library you two were at, Madam Pince telling you two to shush over and over again.

What you didn’t know was the boy who you used to laugh that much with was starring at you, intensely. He was so confused, why were you laughing with Regulus Black? But why does he care, he only came to the library to accompany Lily. As the laughter once again filled the noiseless library, he got more mad.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It had now been eight months. You had almost forgotten that James existed, some things would remind you of him here and there but your heart didn’t drop nor did it beat fast anymore over some small reference.

In those same eight months, you had also gotten closer to Regulus. It felt nice to be friends with him, though sometimes you wished it was more.

He understood you in many ways others couldn’t. In more ways James couldn’t. James was the opposite from you and Regulus was completely like you. Which is what made you two get along so quickly.

Now, you are walking with Regulus making your way to the Astronomy Tower. This spot had become your guys’ spot, coming here whenever. If you just wanted somewhere to hang out, if one was feeling sad, angry, or anything else. Although it was really only allowed to be entered during class, you two still found a way to enter without getting caught, it wasn’t that hard.

“How was your day today?” You had asked Regulus as you made your way to the railing.

“It was alright, History of Magic is always so boring, nearly fell asleep.” Regulus said, chuckling as he finished the end of sentence.

You had let out a giggle, smiling at Regulus then turning back to the view that the Astronomy Tower gave you of Hogwarts.

Regulus admired your features. He had always liked your eyes, the first thing he noticed. That same shade became his favorite color, he could get lost in your eyes for hours. His favorite second feature was your lips, a soft pink, he wishes he could kiss you.

Regulus pauses, why was he thinking about kissing you? He had known you before, but really getting to know you in a month, it’s been a month and he’s already head over heels. Great.

He knew about your past relationship with James, mostly everyone at Hogwarts did. He also knew that if he was James, he would’ve never left you. He would’ve married you, started a family with you.

“Are you okay? You’re totally spacing out on me, I was about to tell you about the cute animal I saw while walking in the Forbidden Forest!” Regulus always admired your love for animals, he loved the way you would ramble about them, going on and on about all the cute animals.

“I’m okay, don’t worry, I was just... thinking,” Regulus said, trying to get you to go back to talking about the animal you found.

“Alright…!”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It has now been nine months.

But the past two months have been heaven for you. Hanging out with Regulus has been the highlight of your days.

But something told you tonight was going to be different. It was a Hogsmeade weekend. Regulus invited you to go and hang out.

So now, here you were sitting across from him at Honeydukes. Sipping on your cold drink, trying not to laugh and make a mess of the drink in your mouth. You loved how funny Regulus was. He doesn’t seem like the funny type but he does know how to make a joke or two.

After thirty minutes of talking and giggling inside Honeydukes, you two had walked back to Hogwarts, going to the courtyard to just sit down on the nicely green colored grass.

You had made a joke causing Regulus to chuckle, before he cleared his throat and had said your name.

“Y/n.”

“What?” You had said nervously, confused on why he stopped laughing and randomly said your name in such a serious manner.

“I can’t do this anymore. Every time I’m with you I just… I want to kiss you. I really like you, if you don’t feel the same it’s fine I don’t expect you to, we have only known each for two almost three months but… if-“

You cut him off with a kiss.

Neither of you two could describe how you felt. Two hearts beating so fast.

“I like you too…” you had said, blushing while looking away.

Regulus smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

James had a tough night. He was hanging out with Lily but all he could think about was you. What if he was hanging out with you instead, would you two be talking about the pranks he wanted to pull on Snape?

Come to think of it, he hadn’t pulled a prank in months, Lily never liked them so she told him to stop.

Him and Lily were not that similar, sometimes opposites don’t attract. James had learned the hard way. You were exactly like him, he really missed you.

After an hour of just hanging out with Lily, she got bored of his silence, leaving saying she was tired, but he knew she wasn’t tired at all.

He left once Lily went up to the girls' dormitories. Now he was in bed, not sleeping, wide awake, with Peter snoring loudly to his left.

He missed you so much. His heart ached when he remembered that night. The tears streaming down your face, when you yelled at him, when you walked out of his life.

The very next morning, he awoke with dark circles under his usually cheery eyes.

“You good mate?” Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m fine just didn’t sleep well.”

Sirius just nodded, he knew James was lying, it was obvious. James was never good at lying.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

“What’re you staring at?” Lily asked, her head tilted slightly with no expression on her face.

“Nothing,” James says, only tearing his gaze away from you and Regulus when he realizes Lily was staring at him.

James sucked at lying. Lily knew he was staring at you. She also knew that she basically broke you and James up. So why was he staring at you when she’s right next to him?

Lily sighs, turning her attention away from James and towards her food, then at you.

Once James realized Lily wasn’t paying attention to him, he turned his gaze back to you. It had only been a few months since the breakup so why were you happy? Why were you laughing at a joke Regulus made? Why are you currently leaning on his shoulder because of a joke he made that was definitely not funny?

Are you seriously replacing him with a Slytherin of all people… his best mate's little brother too? Were you trying to get his attention? It’s definitely working, can’t you feel his gaze on you?

“No way she’s laughing with Regulus,” Sirius says, scoffing as he talks.

James’ gaze now broken and on Sirius, “Right, it’s like she’s trying to get my attention,” James says, rolling his eyes.

“Or maybe she’s finally moving on,” Remus suggests, Sirius and James scoffing at that.

“With Regulus? Please, they won’t last. He can barely function without our parents, doubt he can keep a relationship,” James laughs at what Sirius says.

“Can’t wait to see your brother break her heart, it’ll be entertaining,” Remus now sighing, tired of the conversation about James and his exes maybe new boyfriend.

Peter randomly butts in the conversation, “If you ask me, I think they’re an amazing couple, just like you and Lily, Prongs.”

James pauses, if Peter thinks you and Regulus are a good couple, would everyone else think the same? He felt sick, he didn’t want you moving on. He didn’t want to see you happy with another boy, and especially not a Slytherin.

“No, they don’t suit each other. Sirius can back me up, Regulus is too rude for Y/n, she prefers the sweeter guys.”

Sirius laughs, “I hope you aren’t referring to yourself as a sweet guy, plus that’s my brother you’re talking about.”

James lets out a small grin, “Yeah yeah, I’m leaving now. I have to do something.”

Lily now paying attention to James, “Where are you go-“ she couldn’t even finish what she wanted to say before James rushed out of his seat and made his way to wherever he was going.

“Does anyone know where he’s going?” Lily asked the other three Marauders, all three shrugging.

Lily sighed, about to put her head down until she saw both you and Regulus leave the Great Hall with James slowly following you two.

Confused and frustrated on why her boyfriend was now giving all his attention to the girl he left for her, she got up and made her way to James.

Once you made your way to the library to find the book you’ve been waiting to finally be turned in by the other student who had been reading it for forever, Regulus was the one who noticed James had been following you guys.

He subtly let you know, making you have a quick look behind you, seeing James walk behind you guys trying to be subtle but failing.

Regulus noticed the way you tensed up when you saw James following you two. He knew you still cared about him in some way, but he didn’t know how much.

“Are you okay?” Regulus whispered, grabbing your hand under the table to try and comfort you.

“Yeah, I’m fine; just wasn’t expecting him to follow us,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand.

“Hey, you,” Regulus said, getting your attention back.

You turned to face him, a small smile on your lips, “Hey, yourself.”

Regulus took your hand and kissed the back of it, making you blush and look down at your lap.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Regulus asked again, genuinely concerned for you.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I have you; what else could I possibly want?”

Regulus smiled at that, leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, and for the first time in months, you truly felt happy.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

“What do you mean? Of course, I don’t like her?” James said as if what he was saying was obvious.

“What do I mean? C’mon James, you’re always staring at her, you even left the Great Hall because her and another dude did!” Lily’s almost had enough of bickering back and forth.

“So what? I left her for you, stop being so insecure, she means nothing to me, it’s a coincidence that they left the same time I did, don’t over analyze it like you always do!” James replied angrily, having enough of this conversation because if he was being truthful, yes he left the Great Hall because he saw you and Regulus leave hand in hand!

“Insecure? Wow James, this is so stupid, just admit it! You still love her, but why? When we were meeting in secret you always told me she was boring and other things! So what’s changed? The fact that she’s now over you and probably in love with that dude? I am leaving don’t even answer that question.” Lily huffed, angrily leaving the empty common room to who knows where.

James now angry and full of thoughts, he makes his way to the sofa near the fireplace. Does he still love you? He regrets telling Lily that you were boring; you never were. You were always full of light, the best girlfriend ever, in comparison to Lily she was nothing compared to you.

Now James was thinking, could he get you back? You and Regulus might be dating but he wasn’t so sure. You two seem like great friends who might like each other so if he makes his way back into your life the feelings for Regulus would leave and you and James would live happily ever after.

He really liked his idea, now all he needed to do was put it to plan. He would always know your after-school schedule so he quickly made his way to the library.

As he entered he made his way to the spot you always were, he remembers the hours you two would spend there, remembering that made his heart flutter, he couldn’t wait to get you back!

That dream of his was soon crushed.

There you were. The same spot, but with Regulus, not just hanging out but kissing.

Why were you kissing him?

James felt his heart break, he let the only good thing in his life go away. How could he be so stupid, he had you and left you for another girl who is quite the opposite of him.

He stood there for a minute or two, but enough for you and Regulus to notice him.

“Um, James?” You talked, awkwardly looking at him, glancing at Regulus.

James quickly snapped out of the trance, hearing your voice say his name almost made him melt until he remembered what he saw. James swallowed his spit, “I’m leaving don’t worry, continue on with whatever that was.” James scoffs with an angry expression.

James did what he said he’d do. Right after he talked to you after months, he sped back to his dorm, not feeling like dealing with anyone. Anyone that wasn’t you.

Is this how you felt when James broke up with you? He honestly wasn’t sure he could or even wanted to get over you. You were just perfect, and he ruined it.

James had never slept worse ever in his life than that night.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

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hllywdwhre · 4 months

Text

Dress

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x fem!reader

Summary: A year’s worth of random memories between the two of you

Warnings: age gap (Cillian is current age, reader’s age is unspecified but of legal age), mentions of slut shaming, smut, light choking, unsafe sex (wrap it before you tap it)

MDNI

Word Count: 3656

Notes: This is NOT based on real life. This is an AU and we love Yvonne in this household. Also this is my first attempt at writing smut in literal years so I apologize if it’s not the best💀

Based on the song ‘Dress’ by Taylor Swift

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They got no idea about me and you

One hand gently placed on the middle of your back alerted you to his presence.

“You look stunning,” He said, low enough that no one else could overhear.

Luckily, your make-up artist had made sure you wore a full coverage foundation, as the blush tinting your cheeks would’ve been noticeable if not.

“You don’t look too shabby yourself,” you replied, glancing up at him with a small smile on your face.

You had been eyeing him the entire night, his salt-and-pepper hair hung around his face, only making his blue eyes pop due to the sharp contrast of the colors.

To anyone else, it would look like two co-stars speaking at the premiere of their movie. They wouldn’t see the way you two wanted to step closer to each other, to latch to each other’s hand, or share an excited and proud kiss.

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Cillian had made sure to take things slow with you. You were younger and he was the leading actor in the movie and he wanted to make sure there was no question about power imbalances. He made sure you were comfortable and that you knew he would’ve never used that power over you to force you into something you weren’t comfortable with. It was up to you to make the first moves… from the first kiss to the first of others.

The day after the night all of the clothes the two of you wore had been shed for the first time, you’d found extremely small bruises on your hips from his grip the night before.

“I didn’t realize I had… I’m sorry,” Cillian apologized, kissing your cheek softly as his fingers ghosted over the bruises.

“Don’t apologize. I rather like the marks and the memories they bring back,” you said, turning to him and kissing him.

All of this silence and patience, pining in anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you

All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting

My hands are shaking from all this

Your hands shook as you gave him the documents. Your character was supposed to be nervous, but the shaking of your hands went beyond your character.

You were surrounded by some of the greatest actors, and while you were no new actor yourself, it was still nerve wracking to stand in front of all of them, along with Chris, as they watched you. It was even more nerve wracking to have Cillian’s eyes following you — your character — as you entered the room and handed over the documents.

The shaking in your hands lessened once the scene was finished, but you still saw the way your tea wobbled just slightly when Cillian walked to you.

You wanted nothing more than to pull him close to you, but at this point, the two of you had only just begun talking. The flirty undertones were nothing near enough for you to feel confident enough making a move.

Say my name and everything just stops

I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

Your heart stuttered every time he said your real name and not your character's name. When he called your name this time it was no different.

“How are you?” He asked, joining by your side as you walked away from the restaurant.

Emily had seen some of your works and was a fan of them; she had made sure to include you when inviting other members out to dinners like the one that had just finished. This was one of the few times Cillian had agreed to join and hadn’t had a reason he needed to stay behind.

You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or not, but you thought his eyes lingered on the way the dress hugged your waist for a second longer than what would be seen as just looking you over.

Your pleasant conversation continued until you reached the front door of the guest house you were placed in until your part of the filming was completed.

“Green?” He questioned as his eyes trailed down your figure again and you smirked.

“Green has always been my favorite,” you said, feigning innocence.

“I’m sure it has… it’s starting to become my own,” he told you, one hand settling on your waist to bring you closer to him.

“You said that first bit like you don’t believe me, Murphy,” you teased as your arms came to wrap around his neck.

“Perhaps I don’t,” he replied. His forehead rested against yours, tone still light and teasing despite the tension and proximity.

“Well I can’t possibly reveal the truth,” you teased back.

“And what would that be?”

“That your agreeing with Robert’s comment about us seeming to become very close ‘best friends’ a couple days ago caused me a great deal of jealousy and I’ve noticed the way your eyes seem to linger when the costume department puts me in something green. I could never tell you that or the other truth.”

Carve your name into my bedpost

'Cause I don't want you like a best friend

Only bought this dress so you could take it off

Take it off

“What was the other truth?” He asked, slowing his thrusts to a teasing pace as his hands gripped the frame of the bed.

“What?” You asked, confused on what he meant as your mind was only clouded with the pleasure he made you feel.

“The other truth, from earlier,” he said again, his hips still moving at the agonizingly slow pace.

You blushed as you realized what he meant and at the thought of revealing the little secret, despite the fact you were both naked with him buried inside of you.

At your lack of response, he moved one hand to grip your thigh and push it towards your chest, allowing himself to be buried even deeper inside you. The action caused your eyes to roll back,

“The other truth, doll,” he prompted.

“I wore the dress for more than just the color. I knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me once we’re alone and I wanted you to stop holding back,” you told him.

“You could have just told me, didn’t need to spend an entire night teasing me,” he said and began picking up the pace of his hips again, causing your head to drop back and a moan to leave your lips.

Inescapable, I'm not even gonna try

And if I get burned, at least we were electrified

I'm spilling wine in the bathtub

You kiss my face and we're both drunk

Everyone thinks that they know us

But they know nothing about

Giggles filled the air as your glasses met in the bathtub you shared, the light pink liquid spilling over the sides.

“We have filming tomorrow and we’re both going to be incredibly hungover,” you said with a wide smile on your face.

“One of us will have to pretend to be okay. Most of the crew already has suspicions,” Cillian replied, still smiling.

“And what have they said about it?” You asked as you took another sip of wine, your interest peaked by his comment.

Cillian shook his head, a look of distaste taking over his features as some of the comments replayed in his mind.

“That bad?” You asked as your face fell.

“The comments we expected,” he replied as he took a large drink of wine.

“You’re lucky to be sleeping with a younger woman, but you need to watch out because I’m after fame and your money?” You asked him, your tone revealing that you already knew the answer.

Cillian nodded and your face fell further. You looked away from him and down at the wine in your glass.

“Do you think we’re moving too fast?” You asked.

The water sloshed around you as Cillian scooted himself closer to you, his finger coming underneath your chin and lifting your face to look him in the eyes.

“Everyone is going to have something to say. Even if we were sharing equally large roles and the exact same age.” He said in a firm voice.

You nodded in response as you knew he was right.

“They know nothing,” he said as he leaned in, kissing you softly.

Flashback when you met me

Your buzzcut and my hair bleached

You hadn’t stepped foot onto the set of “Oppenheimer” until a couple months after filming had begun, due to the nature of your smaller part. You played a wife to one of the scientists involved in the making of the atomic bomb and only had a couple lines, but you had captured Cillian’s eye on the first day.

After his divorce two years prior, he hadn’t tried looking for anyone else. He had focused on his kids and his career. You coming along and capturing his attention had been unexpected and he had tried to ignore the attraction he felt at first, only to fall victim to your charm during a break in filming on your first day on set.

A week later you two exchanged phone numbers. A month later and you two were sneaking around on set like you were children all over again. One of you would somehow sneak to the other after filming was complete for the day.

The first time he had fallen asleep at your place, the overnight stay being completely unplanned and you had awoken to hear him let out a surprised “fuck!” before he gathered up his things and left in a rush.

You still had another hour before you had to be on set and laid back down in bed, scrolling through your phone. Rolling over, you noticed the spot he had left was still warm and filled with his scent.

‘I hate this haircut so much. Way too short.’ He texted.

‘I hate this hair color. Way too blonde.’ You replied.

Even in my worst times

You could see the best of me

“It’s one simple fucking scene and I can’t get it right!” He shouted in frustration.

Cillian had shown up an hour prior, saying he needed your help running lines. He was supposed to film the scene where Oppenheimer brings the calculations to Einstein tomorrow and had been pressuring himself over it the entire week.

“It’s not simple though, Cill. You’ve been working nonstop and your character is facing a huge moral conflict in this scene that you have to manage to portray in a subtle way. You’re not just doing your best, you’re doing amazing,” you tell him, standing up and walking over to him.

You gently take the script from his hands and set it down then take his hand in yours to bring it to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his palm.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” he said, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re allowed to be frustrated,” you replied as you wrapped your arms around him.

Flashback to my mistakes

My rebounds, my earthquakes

“I didn’t say I was proud of it,” Cillian said with a laugh.

“Two weeks?” You questioned and your own laughter followed, showing you weren’t holding it against him.

“I haven’t been single since I was 27, I went a little crazy,” he explained as if trying to defend himself.

“I’m not passing judgment, Cill… as long as you didn’t catch anything,” you teased, causing both of you to burst into a fit of giggles.

Even in my worst lies

You saw the truth in me

“A home wrecking whore,” you said through tears, slapping the magazine down in front of him, “we didn’t even know each other two years ago and somehow I’m the reason your marriage ended.”

Yours and Cillian’s relationship hadn’t even been confirmed and already the cruel rumors had started. It was one photo of the two of you leaving a cast dinner, cropped around to look like it was just the two of you and conveniently not showing the other actors that were trailing right behind you.

Cillian was standing with his arms around you in seconds while he placed kisses on the top of your head then on both of your cheeks.

“You know better than to listen to that… that… shit,” he said, words failing what he really wanted to call that article, “you’re the woman who came around at the exact moment you were supposed to.”

And I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

Light flickered into the room, Cillian’s arms were wrapped around your waist, and, for once, the sound of an alarm wasn’t what woke you up. You rolled over in his arms, facing his chest. Even at the small size he had to be for his role, you could still bury your head in his chest and curl into him.

He remained asleep as you situated yourself against him. You weren’t able to fall asleep again, but you didn’t mind. The peace that morning brought made all the sneaking around and rumors seem trivial.

My one and only, my lifeline

I woke up just in time

Now I wake up by your side

My hands shake, I can't explain this

Filming had wrapped a month ago and you and Cillian had both gone to your own separate homes. He had spent months with only phone calls to his kids to stay in contact with them and your own family had missed you. The two of you had made sure to stay in contact, phone calls made to each other when he was able to sneak away from his kids for a moment and once night had fallen.

This pattern lasted for only a couple weeks longer before you were planning a trip to Ireland and waking up back in his arms.

It wasn’t the sun that woke you up this time, though. It was the feeling of Cillian’s lips trailing down your neck and across your collarbone.

“Cill,” you hummed with a smile coming across your face.

“Missed that sound,” he said, moving to hover over you as his kisses and nips at your skin trailed down your chest.

“Thought you heard it enough last night,” you joked. Your hands trailed to his hair as his lips attached to your nipple, causing a rush of pleasure to wash over you.

“Never getting enough of that,” he replied and his mouth attached to the other as soon as the words left his mouth.

Another moan left your mouth and your hips pushed against his, causing him to chuckle.

“Seems like you’re not getting enough either.” His lips began trailing down your stomach, one of his hands running up and down your thigh as he moved lower.

“Seems like you should do something about that,” you teased.

He offered no verbal response and instead continued his trail down your stomach and hips. Your legs spread apart as he positioned himself in between them and added new love bites to the ones from the night before.

“Cillian, please,” you moaned out, your hands still in his hair and pushing your hips towards him.

“Say it again, love,” he commanded. Both of his hands wrapped around each of your thighs and he looked up towards you. His usual bright blue eyes were dark with lust and the look of hunger he held was enough to make your body shiver in anticipation.

“Please, Cillian, I need it,” you begged.

Your head dropped back as his tongue ran across your folds and offered you some amount of relief. You were convinced his favorite place in the world was with his head buried between your legs. The way his tongue danced between your lips, taking in all of your taste and moaning at your unique flavor. The grip you had on his hair tightened when his tongue pushed into you and began exploring every centimeter of you before curling up to nudge against the spot inside you that made your legs shake.

Your legs tried to close around his head, but the grip his hands held on your thighs kept you from doing so. One of his arms wrapped around your thigh and his finger traced circles over your clit. Jolts of pleasure rushed through you and your moans grew louder. They were a constant praise of his name that only seemed to egg him on in his actions.

You felt your high rapidly approaching and you let out a needy whine,

“Cill, please, don’t stop,” you mewled, your hips jerking against his face. There had been plenty of times where he would sense your climax approaching and would pull away in order to tease you until you were begging, but luckily for you he skipped the teasing and continued on.

He pushed his face impossibly closer to you, his tongue still working inside of you and pushing upwards to cause your eyes to roll back in your head while his finger continued rubbing circles on your clit.

When your climax washed over you, his head stayed buried between your legs and drank up everything you gave him. It wasn’t until your moans had turned to overstimulated whimpering that he pulled away from you and rose up to capture your lips in a kiss.

You could still taste yourself on him when his tongue slid into your mouth. Both of your bodies were pressed against each other, his chest pushing against yours and his hips grinding against yours. His cock was pressing against you, teasing both you and him as you felt the head of it sliding between your folds.

“You’re teasing yourself as much as you’re teasing me,” you mumbled into the kiss, causing him to chuckle.

“You’re right, but I love hearing your little moans when you beg for it,” he replied, pulling away and making eye contact with you with an expectant look on his face.

“But don’t my moans sound better when you’re actually inside of me?” You questioned.

He seemed to agree with you since he didn’t offer any verbal response and instead moved away from you, grabbed your hips, and quickly flipped you over.

In the couple weeks since Oppenheimer had finished filming, he had started to put back on weight… and apparently muscle as the movement seemed to be easy for him.

You rose to your knees and kept your chest pressed to the bed, arching your back and pushing back towards him,

“Please, Cill, need you,” you moaned out in that pathetic tone you knew he loved.

“I know you do, kitten, just came and you’re already soaked again,” he taunted, lining his cock up with your entrance and pushing inside of you, “feel so fucking good wrapped around me.”

“Feel so full with you inside me,” you moaned out and tangled your hands into the sheets.

Cillian’s hands came to rest on your hips, giving you brief flashbacks of the first time you had slept together and he had left bruises on your hips, though the thought quickly left your mind when he began moving his hips. He gave you only a moment before his grip tightened, his hips picked up pace, and he was bringing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

He had been able to read your body in ways no one else could since the very first time the two of you had been together. After the first couple thrusts he had changed the angle of his hips to hit your g-spot and cause your moans to heighten in volume.

“That’s right, kitten, let it out. No more sneaking around and having to keep your voice down. Let me hear those pretty little moans,” he coaxed, keeping a steady rhythm with his thrusts and making sure to repeatedly push against that spot inside of you.

A mixture of his name and swear words fell from your lips like a prayer. You could feel your second orgasm of the morning already approaching and you clenched around him, trying to give him some kind of warning as the only thing you seemed to be capable of thinking of was his name.

One of Cillian’s hands moved from your hip to around your throat, pulling you up so your back was pressed against his chest. His other hand wrapped around your hips, his fingers circling your clit to edge you on while he continued his thrusts into you,

“Cum for me. Wanna hear you moan my name as you cum wrapped around my cock,” he commanded.

Your head dropped back onto his shoulder as you came, your moans and his mixing together as your orgasm only spurred him on to reach his. After a couple more thrusts his grip on you loosened and he slowed his movements down as the two of you rode out your highs.

There is an indentation in the shape of you

…

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

Both of you laid back down on the bed, breathing heavily as you caught your breath. His arm wrapped around you and pulled you to him, kissing you softly for a moment before pulling away.

“You’ve made quite the mark on me, love” Cillian said, looking at you with a small smile.

A smile of your own crossed your face and a blush spread across your cheeks,

“I thought you left the marks on me,” you replied in a teasing tone, causing a small bit of laughter to leave his lips.

“Had to make sure it was mutual,” he replied in the same tone, leaning in to kiss you again.

“It definitely is,” you said with a smile against his lips.

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