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borathae · 2 days

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↳ Index [Chapter 05 - Bonding]

Focus on Pairing: Jungkook x Taehyung

Warnings: a romantic picnic date in the forest, Tae is a nervous mess, he is actually a mess in general, so many insecurities and anxieties and signs of PTSD, please seriously someone hold this man, despite these warnings this chapter is so romantic and healing, Kook is the sweetest and most patient person ever, he is so fucking important to Tae's healing journey, they're really bonding <3, they're so cute :(, there is a moment where "smut" could be implied but i can't say more without spoiling the plot, there is no smut though, ah yes there is also talks about being queer and how amazing it is to be queer, i love being queer no joke <3, and i love them :(

Wordcount: 10.4k

a/n: i feel like these warnings are a mess bahahah i didn't wanna spoiler too much, this chapter is definitely the "angstiest" though which says a lot about this story because it's still so fluffy and sweet despite the "angst"

Yoongi’s softened eyes meet yours as you open them to a new morning. His face lights up, an adoring smile washes over his features. He must have been gazing at you for a while because his cheeks are slightly flushed.

You retort the smile instantly with your pulse speeding up. His eyes are dark brown again, his hair a deep black, and yet, the memory of how they glowed purple last night is still so fresh to you. He looked so incredibly beautiful.

You reach out and caress his cheek, making him flutter his lashes in contentment.

“Good morning, my beloved”, you speak softly.

“Good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?”

He nods his head and scoots closer to kiss your forehead.

“I love you”, he whispers, making your heart race.

“I love you too.”

“My love”, he sighs, giving you a gentle hug.

You snuggle into him, giggling quietly.

“Last night was so nice”, you say.

“It was incredible”, he agrees.

“I can’t stop repeating the way you looked.”

“Me neither, my love. Your magic is so beautiful.”

“Yours is just as beautiful.”

He gives you a gentle squeeze, “my beloved love.”

You giggle, “Yoongi, oh god. You’re so cute.”

You crane your neck, kissing his lips. He smiles into the kiss, purring in happiness as his hand caresses your cheek.

You break the kiss once you need to breathe, putting some distance between each other so you could gaze.

“I like you so, so much, Boongie.”

“I like you too, my princess.”

You smile. He retorts it, holding your hand.

“Do you feel normal?” he asks.

“Yeah, just really happy and a little hungry. Why?”

“Just so. I still can’t believe you let me cum inside.”

“Yeah”, you agree with a giddy scrunch of your nose, “I don’t regret it.”

“Me neither”, he squeezes your hand, “if something happens and you change your mind, I will support you. I just want you to know.”

You know what he insinuates, feeling so incredibly safe with him.

“Thank you so much”, you kiss his hand, “I love you.”

“I love you too”, he answers you and rubs his tummy, “I’m hungry too.”

“You are? Oh poor Boongie”, you go to rub his tummy even if he giggles as a defence mechanism, “should we get brekky?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Taehyung and Jungkook are up earlier than you because the guestroom is already empty when you pass it. Yoongi thinks that they are downstairs and so you continue your way to the kitchen.

Taehyung is sitting cross-legged on the floor, freeing cherries from their pits together with your grandfather. Next to them, your grandmother is kneading dough for a pie. Jungkook isn’t present in the room, but the door to the garden is open. They have the radio on, playing songs from a long passed time.

“Good morning.”

Their heads turn in sync with your greeting. Their voices overlap as they all greet you and Yoongi. You hug your grandmother and your hug your grandfather, then you kiss Taehyung on his lips and caress his soft cheek. He leans into the touch with sparkly puppy eyes.

“Did you sleep well?” you ask no one in particular.

“I did”, Taehyung answers, “and you?”

“We did.”

“We didn’t get to see you at all yesterday.”

“I know, right? Yoongi and I practiced magic for almost the entire day and when we came back for dinner, you guys were still out, painting? Paps said that you were.”

One Day Prior

“Well then, I don’t wanna keep you from it. See you later, guys. I love you”, you say and send them flying kisses. You are below their window, carrying a picnic basket and a bright smile.

Taehyung and Jungkook catch the kisses you sent them, giggling just as you do.

“We love you too”, they say in unison, waving you goodbye as you continue your journey to the forest.

“She’s glowing today”, Taehyung says as he watches you skip along the path.

“I thought the same”, Jungkook says.

“Do you think that she will find Yoongi?”

“I bet she will. But even if she won’t, she’ll have a good time. She’ll probably just look at plants and cry over small animals.”

Taehyung laughs fondly. Jungkook does the same.

“That is something she would do.”

“Yeah right?”

You disappear out of their sight as the forest swallows you. The two men shift their eyes back to the view of the forest before them. Taehyung steps closer to Jungkook and hugs his waist tighter.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy, by the way”, Jungkook speaks softly as his fingers play with Taehyung’s mindlessly. He has his left hand rested on the window sill and Jungkook took the chance.

“Because I am with you.”

“You’re a softie.”

“I am. For you”, Taehyung kisses Jungkook’s neck gently, “my weakness.”

Jungkook smiles fondly, “softie.”

Taehyung purrs, rubbing his cheek against Jungkook’s shoulder. He slips his hands from their intertwined fingers and runs them along his arms instead. Once he reaches his elbows, he changes his touch to his stomach instead, tracing the lines of his muscles with his fingertips. Goosebumps cover Jungkook’s skin instantly, soft purrs rumble in his chest.

“Do you want to spend time with me today?” Taehyung asks in a whisper.

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Do you want to paint in the forest? Perhaps have a picnic as well?”

“A picnic? It sounds romantic.”

“It is supposed to be romantic. We haven’t truly gone on a date ever since all of this calmed down.”

“Right”, Jungkook agrees, “mhm, a picnic in the forest sounds nice.”

“Really? Do you truly want to spend time with me?”

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“O-on a date?”

“Yes, that sounds nice.”

Taehyung exhales shakily and presses a kiss to Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I am so happy to hear that”, he whispers and breaks away from Jungkook, “I am calling dips on the bathroom.”

Jungkook chuckles, “alright, do your thing.”

Taehyung keeps the bedroom door open, singing to himself on his way to the bathroom.

Jungkook tidies the room a little. He makes the bed, puts away yesterday’s clothing and cleans the clutter on the bedside tables. He takes the empty glasses of water and makes his way downstairs with a melody on his lips. The shower runs and Taehyung sings happily.

The downstairs is empty, but Jungkook doesn’t worry. He knows where you and Yoongi are and your grandparents are definitely in the garden. Jungkook thinks that it is so lovely that you got your passion for gardening from them.

Jungkook turns on the radio and begins making the picnic. He eats a slice of raspberry pie for strength and sips from his cup of coffee every now and then. Food tastes so good when it actually nourishes the body. Jungkook really loves it.

Taehyung comes downstairs when Jungkook has already finished two dishes.

“You tidied the bedroom.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung. He is wearing beige dress pants and a white linen shirt with strings in the front to close the collar. He has his sleeves down and golden rings on his fingers. His dark hair is styled.

“I did”, Jungkook confirms.

“Are you making breakfast?” Taehyung asks and comes behind him to hug his waist.

“No. I’m preparing the picnic. I had raspberry pie for breakfast. I saved you a slice as well.”

“I see, thank you”, Taehyung says, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Jungkook’s neck.

“Tae, behave”, Jungkook warns and wiggles out of the hug gently.

“I am. I just wanted to smell you”, Taehyung defends himself.

Jungkook scoffs in amusement, placing the cooking towel aside.

“I’m washing up now. Take out the bread once the timer’s done and check on the potatoes. Don’t touch anything you have no idea how to cook.”

“You are mean”, Taehyung calls after him.

Jungkook chuckles. The door closes moments later.

Taehyung looks around the kitchen. Jungkook prepared sandwiches with various fillings, as well as rice rolls with vegetables from the garden. He also has potatoes for a salad boiling happily and seems to bake small baguettes in the oven.

Taehyung straightens up after looking into the oven, scratching his head in thinking. He has no idea what he could contribute to the picnic. He can’t cook and the one thing he can make - sandwiches – Jungkook already made.

Perhaps. Taehyung’s eyes light up. Perhaps he could try his luck with pancakes again. He must be better at them these days. He just must.

With this glorious plan in mind, Taehyung begins his contribution to the picnic.

Jungkook hurries downstairs.

“What’s burning?” he asks worriedly.

Taehyung has his sleeves rolled up by now and his hair dishevelled just a little.

“Don’t look.”

“Tae, what did you do?”

“Don’t come here.”

Jungkook reaches his side, looking at the stack of burned pancakes. He looks at them with big eyes.

“How can you burn them so bad?” he gasps.

“I swear I did everything right. I worked so diligently on getting them golden”, Taehyung says and pouts, “I’m sorry. I know you told me not to do anything, but I still did.”

Jungkook laughs, patting his butt gently.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t apologise. At least you tried. And look, you made five nice ones. That’s an improvement.”

Taehyung’s eyes light up, “that’s right. I did manage to make five nice ones.”

“Good job, Tae”, Jungkook praises and pats his butt, “also, you took out the bread and potatoes at the right time.”

“I even cut them. Can you see?”

“I can. Good job. They’re cut very nicely.”

Taehyung scrunches his nose.

“Thank you so much.”

“Now can you get me the salt and pepper? We need to marinate this salad. It’s gonna be so good.”

“Yes, of course. I can get you spices”, Taehyung says and begins working with sparkly eyes.

Jungkook studies him. He looks so happy and content now that he can be helpful. Jungkook smiles. He likes seeing Taehyung like this.

“Should I put them in already?”

“Yes, go careful. We don’t want it to be too salty.”

Taehyung goes careful, sticking out his tongue in concentration. He sprinkles salt over the potatoes, looking at Jungkook once his fingers are empty.

“Was that good?”

“That was perfect.”

Taehyung’s eyes sparkle.

“Go ahead and put the pepper in it as well, I’m getting the stuff for the sauce.”

Taehyung sings to the radio as he works. Jungkook listens to him with warmth in his chest. He is always the one others take care of, others baby and coddle and try to help. And while Jungkook likes being coddled, he also sometimes really needs to feel as if he could guide someone, as if he is the one being needed. He really likes what he has going on with Taehyung right now.

He returns with his hands full, looking into the salad.

“And?” Taehyung asks with expectant eyes.

“Looks good. You’ve done so well”, Jungkook praises.

“Thank you, wow”, Taehyung rests his head against Jungkook’s arm.

“Do you want to do something else?”

“Yes. I want to.”

“Why don’t you make a pretty charcuterie box? I’m sure someone like you can make pretty boxes.”

“Yes, oh I love charcuterie boards. Why a box?”

“So we can take it with us.”

“I see. I understand. I am going to make it very prettily. Just you wait, I will work very hard on it.”

“I’m sure you will.”

The two men share lovely silence like this. Jungkook finishes the potato salad and makes little wraps with a savoury filling, while Taehyung works hard on perfecting the charcuterie box. Jungkook also cuts up some fruits and puts grandma’s pie into a container, while Taehyung still works on his box. And as Jungkook fills the picnic basket with the food, cutlery and plates, Taehyung still works on his box.

Jungkook allows him this time, eventhough he feels stressed about it. He is someone who likes to move fast, work quickly and finish a lot in little time. He would have finished this box ages ago, but he knows not to comment on it. Taehyung needs it. Jungkook knows way better than one might assume, how important such small moments of quiet are to a traumatised mind.

So he lets Taehyung work and busies himself with cleaning instead. Taehyung doesn’t notice until Jungkook wipes the counter a little to his right. He lifts his head, looking around the room with big eyes.

“Am I taking too long?”

“It’s okay. Take your time.”

“I am sorry, I am almost finished. I, I am trying to get all the details right.”

“It’s okay, take your time. We still have all day”, Jungkook assures him with a chaste kiss to his jawline, “I’m gonna pop into the garden real quick and ask grandma if they have painting supplies. Take your time, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, lowering it shyly afterwards.

“Take your time, okay? You’re doing well.”

Taehyung has finished his charcuterie box, as well as finished packing the basket when Jungkook comes back inside with your grandmother. They are talking about painting as she shows him what they could take for their picnic. Once all supplies are packed, they leave the cottage to finally go on their forest adventure. Jungkook carries everything because he finished putting on his shoes sooner than Taehyung. The latter jogs so he could open the garden door.

“Thank you”, Jungkook says and enters the forest path.

Taehyung closes the door, then does another light jog to catch up with Jungkook.

“Should I help you?” he offers, trying to reach for the heavy picnic basket.

“It’s okay, I can manage”, Jungkook says as he carries it with ease. It doesn’t feel heavy to him at all.

“At least let me carry the blanket.”

“It’s fine, seriously.”

“I feel so useless now.”

Jungkook ogles him and gives up with a sigh.

“Actually, maybe you could carry the blanket. It’s kinda heavy.”

“Of course”, Taehyung says and takes it happily. He throws it over his shoulder, giving Jungkook a shy grin. One Jungkook retorts.

Their adventure takes them past the lake you and Yoongi are spending time together at. The sound of someone cutting wood fills the air.

“So this is where she went”, Taehyung says.

“I guess so, yeah”, Jungkook agrees.

The two men slow down and linger in hiding. Yoongi is cutting wood while you are on the blanket reading a book. You and he seem peaceful and truly lost in your own little world.

“Should we join them?”

“No, let’s give them their privacy.”

“Very well. Then I want to walk along this path”, Taehyung says and takes Jungkook’s hand to lead him away.

Jungkook looks at their intertwined hands, then at Taehyung’s face. The latter seemed content and as if the sudden skinship felt normal to him.

“The sunlight looks especially beautiful on this path, wouldn’t you agree?” Taehyung asks, looking at Jungkook. He flusters and pulls his hand away, “forgive me.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong”, Jungkook assures him in a soft voice.

Taehyung lowers his eyes shyly and reaches for Jungkook’s hand again. Carefully. Just a brush of his fingers to test the waters. Pull away. Cheeks flush. Jungkook reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Taehyung, making the decision for him.

Taehyung meets his eyes and giggles.

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out and smiles fondly. He never imagined Taehyung to be so timid, but he likes that he is. Normally, Jungkook is always the one who everyone wants to baby and call shy. So it is a very nice and welcome change to feel as if he could be the one babying someone.

He pulls Taehyung just a little closer, “you said the sunlight looks especially nice here?”

“Yes, I did. At least I think it does”, Taehyung says and flusters again, “ah please forgive me”, he gets out, breaking away to hide his face in his hands and giggles.

“What’s the matter?” Jungkook asks in a chuckle, nudging his arm playfully, “why are you so shy?”

“You make me shy”, Taehyung says and glances at Jungkook, “stop it, please.”

“Why? I’m not even doing anything”, Jungkook complains in laughter, stumbling slightly when Taehyung pushes at his arm softly.

“Yes, you do. You look at me.”

“Oh? I’m sorry then, it won’t happen again”, Jungkook teases and turns his head away.

Taehyung rounds him, but Jungkook turns his head away again.

“No”, Taehyung laughs and rounds Jungkook again only for the latter to turn his head away.

Taehyung whines and grasps for Jungkook, “don’t do that”, he is laughing.

Jungkook laughs as well, feeling happy when he can tease Taehyung one more time by turning his head away as the latter tries to get his eye contact.

“I didn’t mean it”, Taehyung says and cups Jungkook’s face. They fight each other gently. Jungkook could easily win in this realm, but he lets Taehyung win instead, laughing heartily at his adorable attempts to steal a glance.

Taehyung pulls him closer and rubs his nose against Jungkook’s. Jungkook keeps his eyes closed on purpose.

“Look at me, please”, Taehyung begs in a whisper as his fingers grasp Jungkook’s face almost desperately.

Jungkook opens his eyes.

Taehyung melts in giddiness instantly, scrunching his nose. He flutters his lashes prettily, letting out a shy giggle.

Jungkook chuckles softly and steals a kiss.

“You’re adorable right now”, he says, sliding his hand together with Taehyung’s and tugging softly, “come on, the basket’s getting heavy.”

Taehyung follows him with wobbly knees, hugging his arm. He rests his head against Jungkook’s shoulder, twisting the fabric of his shirt mindlessly. He hasn’t felt this way about a man in decades. He feels so entirely silly for it because in the grand scheme of endless time, he has only been with Jungkook for a very short time. Four months ever since Namjoon was defeated to be exact. The two men didn’t have enough time yet to truly get to know each other. Taehyung shouldn’t feel so strongly for him already, but he cannot help himself. Courting Jungkook makes Taehyung feel like a giddy, young queer again. He hasn’t felt this way in forever.

He keeps these thoughts to himself however because he fears to be too much. That is why he shied away from holding his hand or why he didn’t dare to call it a date. Yes, Jungkook is very openly and proudly bisexual, but Taehyung doesn’t want to be the reason why Jungkook could question it in a negative way. Taehyung truly feels that he could make him question it. Oh, he feels so insecure lately. As if he was a desperate, pitiful beggar asking for something he wasn’t worthy of.

Taehyung lifts his head from Jungkook’s shoulder, deepening the hand holding. He gulps. They begin again. The painful thoughts. They have been haunting him for months. They keep him up at night and steal his desire to be creative. The once beautiful sunlight is invisible to him right now. Jungkook’s hand in his’ feels like an act of pity. Taehyung wants to gulp, but can’t because his throat is beginning to constrict.

“Look. What do you think of this spot?” Jungkook asks and slows down on a small clearing. A patch of grass is stretching its green arms to the sunlight. Small forest flowers break up the lush green in specks of white and yellow. The spot is romantic and intimate. Jungkook knows that Taehyung will like it, so he gets worried when the latter doesn’t answer him.

He looks at him. Taehyung is staring into nothingness with glassy eyes. He is at the same time breathing heavily and not breathing at all.

“Tae?” Jungkook tries, giving his hand a gentle shake.

Taehyung doesn’t react, so Jungkook tries again.

“Taehyung?” he says a little louder.

When Taehyung doesn’t react again, he places himself in front of him and cups his cheeks.

“Taehyung, hey.”

Taehyung flinches, blinking his eyes a few times before they finally focus on Jungkook.

“I lost you for a moment. Are you okay?”

Taehyung grows embarrassed instantly, “please forgive me”, he whispers, trying to lower his head, but Jungkook doesn’t let him.

“Don’t apologise, you didn’t do anything wrong”, he assures him and brushes his thumb over his cheeks, “what’s the matter? Where did you go when I lost you?”

Taehyung shakes his head.

“You can’t say yet?”

He nods his head.

“Is it too painful?”

He hesitates, but nods his head in the end.

“I understand. Well, I’m glad that you’re back again and if you want to, you can talk to me.”

Taehyung nods his head and leans into Jungkook’s touch. He closes his eyes and sighs in relief.

“Now. What do you think of this spot? I think it’s very romantic”, Jungkook asks in order to take his mind off of whatever haunted him before.

Taehyung peels his eyes open and looks around for a bit. His face gains a happy glow as more and more seconds pass and soon, he carries an honest smile on his lips.

“I love this spot. It is so romantic”, he says.

“Yeah, right? Let’s set up our picnic here. Come on, teamwork. we’ll put down the blanket together.”

“Yes, alright”, Taehyung says with newly found joy in his voice.

The two men work perfectly together to prepare the picnic. They lay out the blanket, put down a few pillows and spread out the containers of food. Jungkook hands them to him and Taehyung opens the lids. It is truly perfect teamwork and only a few moments later, the picnic is set up.

Jungkook and Taehyung are facing each other because it naturally happened this way. Obviously, both men have their shoes off. Jungkook leans back on his hands and stretches out his legs.

“Ah”, he sighs contently, “that’s life. Picnics in nature are the best.”

He closes his eyes and tilts his face up into the sun. The light feels warm on his skin, filling him with a sense of freedom. He missed the sunlight so much. In the real world, he can’t stay in it for too long because his sensitive eyes would begin aching way too much. Jungkook really treasures the sunny moments here.

Taehyung watches him with a racing heart. Every single inch of his face is perfect. His jawline, his chin, his lips, his nose and forehead. The way his eyes look closed and how his cheeks are so soft. Because he is human in this world, Jungkook’s skin finally looks alive again. It is golden in the sunlight. Taehyung doesn’t exaggerate. He truly thinks that his skin looks as if made out of pure gold.

Taehyung reaches for his paper and gouache paints and begins sketching what he sees. Taehyung imagines everything in shapes of different colours when he paints. Humans, animals, nature and architecture are basically all just made up of different shapes in different colours to him, which he will replicate in his art until it shows what he sees. Taehyung thinks that Jungkook’s shapes are the most beautiful shapes he has seen in a man’s face in a long time.

Jungkook moves out of the position when he doesn’t hear Taehyung after a few moments. Worry is prominent in his eyes, he must have thought Taehyung was lost in painful thoughts again.

“What are you doing?” he asks him, studying him.

Taehyung lifts his head and widens his eyes.

“Please don’t move. I am not done yet.”

“Are you drawing me?”

“Yes, please move back to how you were before.”

Jungkook chuckles and does as he is told.

“Like this?”

“No, not like this. Tilt it further.”

Jungkook fixes his head.

“Like this?”

“No, wait”, Taehyung says and gets on his knees so he could reach for Jungkook’s head. He fixes his position in his stead, oblivious to Jungkook’s eyes on him until he goes to fix the strands of hair on his forehead. Jungkook is smiling at him, letting his pretty eyes run over his face. There is fond playfulness sparkling in them.

Taehyung flusters, pulling his fingers away.

“Forgive me. I didn’t ask for permission to touch”, he whispers, feeling mesmerised by Jungkook’s eyes.

Jungkook stays quiet, which makes Taehyung nervous.

“I am sorry”, he says, “really.”

Jungkook reaches up and brushes the back of his hand over Taehyung’s chin.

“You’re so handsome”, he whispers.

“What?” Taehyung breathes, feeling lightheaded.

“You’re so handsome”, Jungkook says and smiles, tracing his thumb over Taehyung’s lips.

They part. His eyes lower. His cheeks flush.

“Oh god”, Taehyung presses out and falls back with his face hidden in his hands, “please stop it.”

“Why? You’re normally not that shy.”

“Because you aren’t like this normally.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying. I’m just as I always am.”

“No you are not, you are looking at me.”

“Why am I not allowed to look at you?” Jungkook laughs and closes the distance between them to overwhelm Taehyung. He pushes him to his back, grabbing his wrists to pin them above his head.

“Ah”, Taehyung moans softly, having to gasp for air afterwards.

Jungkook is pinning him down, staring so deeply into his eyes, Taehyung feels dizzy.

“Mhm? Why am I not allowed to look at you?” Jungkook whispers in a slight rasp.

“I, I”, Taehyung stutters, but can’t think of anything to say.

Jungkook chuckles and places a kiss on Taehyung’s jawline. The latter arches his back and sighs, parting his legs for something which never comes.

“You’re so cute, Tae”, Jungkook whispers and breaks away to return to the pose.

Taehyung needs a few moments to function again. He lies still on the blanket, staring at the sky with a racing heart. The spot Jungkook kissed is tingling uncontrollably, his stomach is spilling over with butterflies. He is done for, isn’t he?

In the past, Taehyung was the one to fluster Jungkook, to steal his breath and make him malfunction with just a touch. Not anymore, not when true feelings are involved. Nothing but a look is already enough to mess up his thoughts, a touch truly renders him useless. Taehyung is so done for.

“Are you going to paint me?” Jungkook asks.

“Forgive me, I”, Taehyung sits up and tries to fix his hair. His fingers shake a little as he reaches for his brush, “ye-yes I am. Please uhm, please hold still.”

Jungkook chuckles, “you’re so cute”, he says and closes his eyes.

They spent quiet like this, but it is never truly silent. The song of birds, the humming of insects and the rushing of the wind keeps them company. Taehyung’s brush makes a faint sound as he guides it over the paper. It doesn’t take him long to finish his sketch. He has been painting for more than eight hundred years after all.

“You are allowed to move again.”

“Yeah? Did I turn out well?” Jungkook asks and tries to look.

“No peeking”, Taehyung says and moves the paper away, “I want to finish it first.”

“Alright, if you say so”, Jungkook chuckles and sits back. He shifts his eyes to the picnic, “you don’t mind if I start eating, do you?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Mhhm nice. Oh all of that looks so yummy. Mhm what should I take first? Uh gimbap”, Jungkook mumbles to himself as he fills his plate with a variety of foods.

Once his plate is finished, he prepares one for Taehyung as well. He places it next to him, laughing when he moves the paper away panickedly.

“I wasn’t tryna peek, just made you food.”

“Oh. Thank you”, Taehyung says with a blush.

“Enjoy”, Jungkook says and pecks his pink cheek, before sitting back to begin eating.

He does so with his eyes scanning over the scenic view. The sunlight breaks through the leaf canopy perfectly so that the sun rays are visible. There are small bugs and butterflies fluttering in the lights.

“I think I wanna paint the forest”, Jungkook says and busies himself by setting up his painting station. He makes breaks for snacking every now and then.

“The forest is a wonderful motive”, Taehyung murmurs with his mouth stuffed with food. He truly enjoys the taste. Jungkook is a very talented cook.

“Yeah, I agree. Have you been painting for long?”

“Yes, all my life. Even when I was still human, I painted in my spare time.”

“Damn, then you’ve been painting for forever.”

“I truly enjoy it. Painting, or art in general, brings me great peace of mind. I find myself truly zone out whenever I create art.”

“I get that. My brain sorta shuts off too when I paint.”

“So you paint as well?”

“I do, yeah. Just not as passionately as you.”

“I see. Did you paint as a human as well?”

“No, not really. I was more of a drawing kinda guy back then. I always loved the sketches I did, but hated colouring them. I honestly still do. I prefer to draw than to paint.”

“I see. I really love drawing as well, but I prefer painting.”

“It suits you.”

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asks, meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

“Just that painting suits you”, he smiles, “it’s a compliment.”

“Oh”, he flusters, looking away, “thank you.”

Jungkook feels warm fondness in his chest for Taehyung. He is genuinely so cute when he flusters.

“Okay, idea. What are your top five art forms?” he asks because he wants to keep talking to him.

“My top five art forms?”

“Yes, painting, sculpting, stuff like that. What are your top five? They don’t have to be in order, just what do you love the most?”

“No one ever asked me that before.”

“I thought it could be fun. Normal date questions can be so boring.”

Taehyung flusters. A date. He is truly on a date. He almost forgets about his answer because of how giddy he feels.

“Well then, uhm”, he begins, “I would say that painting is my most favourite, I enjoy pottery a great deal and the entire process of painting the pieces. I would also consider embroidery to be one of my favourites.”

“Embroidery?”

“Yes, I like it.”

“That’s so cool. I never tried embroidery before, but I think it’s such an impressive art skill.”

Taehyung studies Jungkook’s features. Jungkook doesn’t hate him, does he? He is actually interested in him. Taehyung doesn’t need to feel like a pitiful beggar because there is nothing he needs to beg for with Jungkook. He gives him attention and interest willingly. Taehyung cannot put his feelings into words yet, but what Jungkook is doing right now feels healing to Taehyung.

“It is so much fun. I really love it”, Taehyung says and takes a deep breath. The air filling his lungs feels so good all of a sudden.

“You have to show me how to do it one day. I would love to learn.”

“Yes. Yes, I can teach you”, Taehyung says, bouncing on the spot excitedly.

Jungkook grins, “awesome. I’ll take you up on your offer then. Now back to the question, give me two more.”

Jungkook is so interested in him. Holy fuck, Taehyung feels like finally diving up for air after an endless battle under water. He talks with his heart racing addictingly in his chest.

“I would also say that I enjoy writing poetry a great deal and my fifth thing would be” he thinks for a moment, “does music count?”

“Of course it does.”

“Then I would say that I truly enjoy music. Making it or writing it. I love it.”

“These are good answers. They fit you all so well.”

Taehyung blushes. They fit him. His favourite art fits him.

“Thank you”, he whispers with a racing pulse. This is what being human is about. Racing heartbeats because of love.

“Now ask me a question. Let’s make a game out of it. We take turns asking questions.”

“Oh, I love this idea. I shall think of a question.”

“Don’t be shy. Every question is allowed. Even dirty ones.”

Taehyung blushes, “don’t say that.”

Jungkook laughs.

Taehyung takes in the sound and puts it into his memory drawer of favourite things. He studies Jungkook for a moment. He wants to get the first question right. Jungkook’s first question was so perfect that Taehyung doesn’t want to disappoint. Jungkook bites off from his sandwich. Food! Taehyung has the first question!

“Have you been cooking for long?”

“Yes, I liked to occasionally cook as a human, then had to give it up for a while because of my curse, but when I moved in with Seokjin and Hoseok joined us, I picked it up again.”

“That is so wonderful. I never learned how to cook.”

“I can teach you.”

“Oh? Oh no”, Taehyung shakes his head and laughs, “it’s rotten work.”

“Not to me.”

Taehyung stops laughing. He meets Jungkook’s eyes. The latter smiles sweetly.

“Not to me it’s not. I can teach you”, he says.

Something inside Taehyung snaps. Or shifts into its rightful place. Whatever the case, Taehyung cannot take the feelings in his chest and so he acts.

He closes the distance between him and Jungkook, grasping his face to pull him into a kiss. A kiss so passionate he feels tears well up in his eyes.

“Mhm”, Jungkook lets out in surprise, closing his eyes after a few moments of baffled blinking.

He laughs into the kiss, combing his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. The kiss is so passionate. So desperate. Filled with such urgent pleas. Jungkook soon feels his composure falter. He was never kissed like this before. He was kissed with passion, with desire, with desperation, with warm love and adoration, but he was never kissed with such suffocating urgency before. He was never kissed as if it was the only remedy to an ache unknown, as if his lips carried the only spark of life a dying flame clings to.

When Taehyung breaks the kiss, Jungkook feels just a little out of it. Not in a sexual way, but in a deeply emotional way. His lips still taste his kiss, his scalp still feels the paths his fingers took.

“Can I be yours?” Taehyung whispers shakily, resting his forehead against Jungkook’s.

“Tae…”

“Please. I, I know I am rushing it. I know that I am too much and that I am not easiest to like, but-”

Jungkook places his finger against Taehyung’s lips. Taehyung exhales shakily.

“Tae, why are you asking this? You’re already mine.”

“I am?”

Jungkook nods his head, breaking away from him just so he can cup his cheek. Taehyung gazes up at him, holding his breath. The adoration in Jungkook’s eyes is honest and goes so very deep.

“You’ve been mine for months. Do you think that I see this as a casual fling?”

“I don’t know”, Taehyung whispers.

“Well, I don’t. I don’t do flings, I do it seriously or I don’t do it at all. You’ve been mine for months now.”

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and overwhelmed by his feelings, he falls around Jungkook’s neck in a tight hug.

Jungkook chuckles fondly, hugging him back.

“I was so worried.”

“I could tell. Don’t be anymore, I want this to be serious just as much as you do.”

Taehyung lets out a relieved laugh and buries his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He sobs softly afterwards, grabbing a bundle of his hair to hold it for support. He needs it. He would be lost without it.

“Hey, what’s the matter? Why are you crying?” Jungkook asks worriedly.

“I haven’t felt like this for a man in decades. I feel so young again. So, so…so…I feel so alive.”

“You’re so sweet, Tae. I feel really happy as well.”

Taehyung sits back on his feet, taking Jungkook’s hands. His glassy eyes never leave his’, racing between them in adoring obsession.

“I love being queer when I can feel this way.”

“You do?”

Taehyung nods his head, “I witnessed many phases of humanity and how it handled us. Most weren’t good. But the way you make me feel makes me so happy to be who I am.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Oh yes, I am so happy. I am queer”, he spills tears, smiling, “I am queer and I am free and I, I”, he falters, furrowing his brows as his lower lip trembles.

“Go on”, Jungkook encourages him in a whisper, thumb caressing his knuckles slowly.

“I am in love with you. I am so deeply in love with you that I could fill galaxies with it. This isn’t desire. I could go without sleeping with you if that is what you asked. I could miss out on sex. I could. I, I truly could be-because what makes me happiest is being with you.”

Taehyung fights for air before he continues.

“You have no idea what this means. I live for sex, I enjoy it, I desire it, I need it. But if we never made love again, I wouldn’t miss it because I could still be with you. I love you so much that I finally know what it is to love.”

Silence. Taehyung is panting for air. Jungkook studies his face.

“God Tae”, he says “you really held back on a lot, didn’t you?”

Taehyung shies away. His chest tightens. He was too much. Came off as overbearing and as if he wanted to bury Jungkook in love.

“I’m sorry”, he chokes out.

“No, god I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a negative way. I’m happy that you are letting it out. I wanna be someone you can share your feelings with safely”, Jungkook says and tilts his head up so their eyes reconnect, “okay?”

Taehyung nods his head, feeling the warmth return to his chest.

“I’m happy to be queer as well, Tae. I grew up in a very conservative, queerphobic time, so to be surrounded by people like us and to have the opportunity to love freely, makes me so happy to be queer.”

Taehyung agrees with a nod of his head.

“And I love spending time with you as well. You are cute and gentle and you have a good heart. I know you’re older than me, but I want to protect you and take care of you. It makes my heart race and I know it’s because I’m falling in love with you, I can feel that I am.”

“You do? You really do?”

“I do”, Jungkook smiles, “I don’t lie about love. If I say something, I mean it.”

“Oh”, Taehyung gets out and hugs him, “I’m so happy.”

The two men hug for quite a while. They settle back in their places after the hug, but sit a lot closer together. Their knees are touching at all times, sometimes Taehyung or Jungkook reaches over to caress the other’s leg. Taehyung can’t stop sneaking glances at Jungkook and neither can the latter. It feels good to know that the other felt the same.

“Were you in a queer relationship before our poly family?” Taehyung asks and picks his paint brush back up. He can barely paint. He is so giddy that his hand is shaking in a positive way.

“No”, Jungkook shakes his head, “the only relationship I had before our poly family was with my human sweetheart. Otherwise, I wasn’t in any kind of relationship before our poly family. I tried not to kill people by staying away from them.”

“I see. I am sorry. Life must be so lonely as a Ripper or Glutton.”

“It really fucking is”, Jungkook says and despite his words, smiles at Taehyung, “but I’m not lonely anymore. I have our family. My past was sad, but my present isn’t anymore.”

Taehyung smiles, “that is so good to hear. You deserve it.”

“Thanks. Yeah”, Jungkook says and looks at his painting. He looks just a little shy. Shy, but also content.

Taehyung studies his face for a little while, enjoying the way his heart races in his chest. He reaches out and caresses his leg.

“So you didn’t even try anything with Hoseok or Seokjin?” he asks.

Jungkook lowers his paint brush, looking at the trees as he thinks.

“Not really? Not actual sex at least. I was too out of control, I would have just ended up ripping their heads off.”

“I see. How terrible.”

Jungkook agrees with a nod of his head.

“We did cuddle a lot, but that’s not queer, that’s just being really good friends.”

“Of course. Good friends can cuddle just as well as partners can.”

“Exactly”, Jungkook smiles fondly, “I love them both so much. They saved me. I think I would have killed myself eventually if I had never met them.”

Taehyung furrows his brows. Jungkook meets his worried eyes. He touches the side of his neck awkwardly.

“I know, heavy stuff. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Please don’t ever apologise for that”, Taehyung insists, shaking his head, “I understand. You had no support system, killed against your will and had to cope with it alone. Of course your situation drove you to consider suicide. I am so happy that you held out for as long as you did, so you could meet them. This world would have been a sad one without you in it. You are such a strong person, you truly are.”

Jungkook lowers his eyes, touching his chest.

“Well fuck, nobody ever called me a strong person for this. It took so much strength to keep going, so uhm, yeah. Thanks. Seriously, thanks.”

Taehyung holds Jungkook’s hand gently.

“I was truthful”, he whispers.

“I know”, Jungkook whispers as well, lifting his eyes.

Taehyung gazes at him, giving him a shy smile the moment their eyes meet. Jungkook leans in to place a soft kiss on Taehyung’s lips. The latter receives it with a fluttering heart. Jungkook pulls back afterwards, giving him a grin. He picks his paintbrush back up and continues painting.

Taehyung looks at him for just a second longer before continuing his painting as well.

“So who was your first ever queer experience?”

“Yoongi.”

“Indeed?”

“Yeah. God, it’s so embarrassing to think about because I was so out of control back then”, Jungkook says as he has to laugh.

“Really? Tell me about it”, Taehyung snickers as well.

“God, it’s so embarrassing. We didn’t even try a lot. He just touched my cock and I already spiralled. I called him a fucker and tried to rip his jugular out.”

“Oh heavens.”

“Yeah, he had to use force to pin me down and then used his compulsion to calm me down. I kept snapping at him and growling like a fucking idiot. I was such a mess back then”, Jungkook says and laughs.

Taehyung joins him, staring at his lips the entire time.

“That does indeed sound like a very wild time.”

“It was. It really was. God”, Jungkook snorts in amusement, “I felt so bad afterwards and kept crying and beating myself up about it, but Yoongi stayed calm and comforted me. That’s why I can laugh about it these days. It could have become another bad memory, but I look back at it fondly.”

“Of course. It shows how far you have come.”

Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes in surprise. He understands.

“Exactly. Yeah, that’s right”, he breathes.

Taehyung smiles shyly, lowering his eyes at his painting. He feels giddy when Jungkook looks at him. He really does.

Jungkook studies his face for a few more moments. He starts to understand what Taehyung means. He hasn’t really felt this way about another man ever and it is a very good feeling. He feels really young and giddy this way.

“Did you always know that you weren’t hetero?” Taehyung asks.

“Mhm, I don’t know. I don’t think so”, Jungkook says, looking at the trees as he thinks, “I honestly felt really happy in my heterosexuality when I was human and I also didn’t really consider other men as attractive. Of course I could see that some were handsome, but I wasn’t attracted to them.”

“I see. So you discovered yourself when you were already turned.”

“I did, yeah. And you? You told me once that you first thought that you were just gay.”

“I told you that?”

“Yeah, in the car. After we hate fucked.”

Taehyung laughs, Jungkook does as well.

“You remember this all this time?”

“Of course I do.”

“Oh”, Taehyung says and lowers his eyes.

Jungkook watches him with growing worry in his chest. He keeps making himself small with each confirmation that Jungkook feels the same. As if he didn’t want to believe that he was worthy of affection.

“Is it my turn to ask you a question?” Jungkook asks him.

Taehyung nods his head, still staring at his hands.

“What troubles you lately?”

Taehyung looks up in shock.

“This is your question?”

Jungkook nods his head.

Taehyung looks away. He stays silent for a long time, losing himself deep in his thoughts. What isn’t troubling him? How does he put something into words which he doesn’t understand either? He can’t find an answer in the end.

“Can you please ask something else?”

“That’s okay, I can do that”, Jungkook assures him, “how many queer relationships were you in before our poly family?”

Taehyung relaxes again.

“Serious or casual?”

“Both.”

“Oh heavens, casual way too many to count. I am quite frankly, such a whore.”

Jungkook laughs, Taehyung does as well.

“As for serious, I would say that I had four serious relationships before our poly family.”

“Four you say? Are they still alive?”

“No, they were all human. I loved them all very much. Their loss ached very deeply.”

“I can imagine. I’m so sorry, Tae.”

“I have healed from it”, he assures him and leans in to kiss him.

Jungkook lets it happen with a fluttering heart. He gazes when the kiss breaks.

“What was that for?” he whispers

“Because I feel so happy to be with you”, Taehyung whispers.

“I see. Then I gotta steal one too, don’t I?” he says and takes Taehyung’s cheeks to use them as leverage to push him onto the blanket. Taehyung falls with a laugh.

They shove and push the picnic and paintings aside, losing themselves in the kiss seconds later. They will be lost in it for a long time. They will use this time in the sweetest, most healing way possible with tangled limbs and dancing lips, mixing in innocent touches and sighs of each other’s names.

And they will make each other feel good. It will feel so incredibly good to them that their hearts will beat in sync through it all. And it will be innocent. It will be the sweet, innocent exchange of touches between two people who are so freely themselves when they are together.

The sun is in the midst of setting already when Taehyung feels the need to share what had burdened him for months. A blanket cocoons them in, keeping their bodies warm in the sinking temperatures. They are on their backs, watching the sky change colours. Jungkook’s body is touching Taehyung’s, sharing warmth this way. Jungkook has his arm stretched to the side, Taehyung is resting his head on it.

“Can you keep secrets?” Taehyung whispers.

“I tend to forget a lot of what other people tell me, so I can definitely keep a secret because I’ll forget it again.”

Taehyung laughs loudly, craning his neck to look at Jungkook.

“I mean it”, Jungkook snickers.

“I know, I just thought that it was funny.”

“Yeah, I know”, Jungkook grins, “now what’s up? What secret do you wanna tell me?”

Taehyung rolls his head back into a more comfortable position. Despite his muscles, Jungkook’s arm is very comfortable to rest on.

“I think it is more of an empty talk about my feelings than an actual secret.”

“That’s okay too. I can listen.”

“I sometimes dream of being controlled. Of being told what to do, how to act, where to sit or stand or lie, what to wear. I dream of it. Dream of having every single aspect of my life dictated.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung with slightly widened eyes, while the latter is too lost in his rant to notice.

“And the thing is? I haven’t figured out whether it is a trauma thing or not. For many, many centuries I didn’t have freedom and lived under constant mind control. I had someone controlling me, but he hurt me as well. A lot.”

“It’s okay”, Jungkook whispers and holds Taehyung’s hand. He heard the tremble in his voice and needed to be there for him.

Taehyung speaks easier with Jungkook’s support.

“I shouldn’t want to be controlled again, but I still dream of it. I truly do. I want to put myself into the hands of another and let them decide what is best for me. Is this wrong of me?”

“You asked me too quickly. I need to think about it for a little.”

“No, please. This was just a rhetorical question, please don’t tell me your stance on it.”

“Why not? It could be good.”

“And if it is not? I cannot bear to be ridiculed, I am not stable enough for it.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung, the latter can’t bear to meet his eyes.

“Are you currently having a hard time?” Jungkook asks quietly.

“I think I might”, Taehyung confesses, “it hasn’t been that long since our situation has truly calmed down and I feel very lost these days.”

“You do?”

Taehyung nods his head, “my life is so different to how it once was. All of our lives are. In the past, Yoongi rarely left his wing, let alone conversed with us, but these days he is spending time with us and talking with us. You, ___, Seokjin, Hoseok and Emma weren’t part of my life either and suddenly you live with us. Peace was never truly lasting for Jimin and me, but now it is our new reality. I am aware that our dynamic changed when we travelled the lands in search for Namjoon, but I feel like we didn’t have time yet to truly bond.”

“We didn’t have time yet to make sense of our situation.”

“Exactly. We didn’t have time yet to truly let it set in. At least this is how I feel. I feel so lost because everything changed so much and now I do not know what to do. How do I live freely? How do I find happiness? How do I…”

Taehyung looks away, touching his chest.

“How do I heal?” he whispers.

“God Tae”, Jungkook whispers and rolls to his side. He gets on his elbow, closing the distance to Taehyung to place a tender kiss on his temple. He hugs his head gently, massaging his scalp slowly and keeping his lips against his temple.

“I do not know how to live my life now that I am free and I think that it gives me a hard time. I am restless and nervous and scared to settle. What if I settle and then something ruins it again? What if I make peace with the fact that I am free only to be captured again? What if I allow myself to heal only to be hurt again? What if”, Taehyung gulps, reaching for Jungkook’s chest, “Jungkook, I think I might struggle more than I initially thought. My heart is beating uncomfortably. I don’t like this sensation, my throat is so tight.”

“You’re safe. You’re in the beginning of a panic attack, but you’re safe”, Jungkook comforts him, rubbing his chest in slow circles, “try to follow my breathing. I know it’s difficult, but you’re not gonna die. Promise.”

Taehyung listens to Jungkook’s comforting words and finds healing in breathing with him. He felt smothered by his thoughts. Small, fragile and incapable of carrying their weight, but breathing helps. His pulse, which once tortured him, becomes bearable again. The rope once tightening around his throat dissolves again.

“There we go”, Jungkook caresses his cheek, “you did it. I’m so proud of you.”

Taehyung closes his eyes and leans into Jungkook’s palm.

“How did you know what was happening to me?”

“Experience. I didn’t have the easiest life as a human once I was drafted. I had a lot of panic attacks in the barracks and the trenches and I helped many of my comrades as well.”

“I see.”

“That’s why I’m so sorry that you feel this way. I understand how you feel so well.”

“You do?”

“Of course. When something changes you as a person as drastically as trauma does, it is difficult to relearn yourself. And it’s only natural to feel restless and lost in calm moments when your life consisted of pain and trauma for so long.”

Jungkook brushes Taehyung’s tears away.

“I know that our traumas aren’t the same, but I also felt like you feel right now when I first had a holiday from the frontlines. Life back home was relatively normal, nobody changed drastically and I should have found peace in resting, but I couldn’t. I had changed. I woke up screaming, crying and throwing up from my nightmares, every loud sound felt like torture to me, my sweetheart’s affection made me uncomfortable and I kept shaking even in calm moments. My family had no idea how to help me and I had no idea how to live a peaceful life anymore because peace felt like mockery to me after everything I went through at the frontlines.”

“I’m so sorry. Oh Kook, war is terrible. I hate that men never learn. It shouldn’t happen. It never should have. What an awful way to solve disagreements. What an awful, inhuman way.”

“I agree”, Jungkook says and rests his forehead against Taehyung’s, “but what I want to say by sharing this part of me, is that you’re not alone. Our traumas may have different origins, but I understand how lost you feel in the peace and how anxious this makes you.”

Taehyung whimpers softly, spilling tears against his will. Jungkook wipes them, keeping close to Taehyung.

“It gets easier, I promise. I never officially returned from the war because I became a Ripper before that, but I still experienced trauma afterwards and when I began to settle with Seokjin, I felt just as lost again because peace wasn’t an option for so long. It gets easier with time, I promise.”

“How long did it take you?”

“A few years.”

“Oh”, Taehyung gets out and sobs softly, “years.”

“It could be different for you. I wasn’t in control back, so obviously I didn’t have absolute peace. But your situation is different and maybe it won’t take you years to be comfortable in the peace. Oh Tae, it’s okay. Let it all out”, Jungkook says and works diligently to wipe every tear Taehyung spills.

“I don’t know why I am crying.”

“It’s okay. That’s all part of the healing. Let it happen.”

And so Taehyung cries. He cries in grief for the person he could have been if he had never gone through hell. He cries in relief from being freed of this hell. And he cries in sweet realisation that he wasn’t alone in this, that he had Jungkook offering him comfort. He cries for many reasons and it felt good to do so.

His thoughts are clearer after the cry, his chest not that heavy.

Jungkook changed positions by now, resting on his side propped up on his elbow and with his hand drying his tears.

Taehyung rolls to his side, looking up at him. He stopped crying many breaths ago. Jungkook still cradles his cheek and brushes his thumb under his eyes slowly.

“I feel better”, Taehyung whispers.

“That’s good to hear. You did really well. I know crying sucks, but it’s so healthy for you. Don’t ever hold it back.”

“It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

“That’s understandable. Come to me whenever you feel like crying. I’ll pay you company as you do.”

“What if it happens often?”

“Then I’ll pay you company until often turns into occasionally and sometimes until it finally turns into rarely.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook brushes his thumb over Taehyung’s temple.

“You’re not a burden, Tae. You aren’t too much or overbearing. You never were and never will be. Not for me and not for our family.”

Taehyung places his shaky hands on Jungkook’s chest.

“Can you control me?” he gets out.

“I’m sorry?”

“Please can you control me? I don’t know what to do, but you do. Can you be the one to control me?”

Jungkook’s eyes soften.

“Oh Tae”, he whispers, “no, I won’t. You will always be free with me.”

“Please. I’m begging you. I don’t know what to do.”

“Then I’ll be with you as you walk the unknown path.”

“Oh.”

“I won’t promise you anything like control, because I don’t ever want to take advantage of you, but one thing you can always count on is me. I’ll carry burdens which are too heavy for you, I’ll show you the way and you can always lean on me, okay?”

Taehyung nods his head.

“Okay”, Jungkook says and kisses Taehyung’s forehead.

Taehyung exhales shakily, chasing the affection with closed eyes.

“Sweetheart”, Jungkook whispers and kisses his lips gently. He had no ulterior motive behind the kiss, no ill intent. But Taehyung is fragile and confused, lost in a situation he knows not to handle healthily.

Taehyung whimpers into the kiss, he chases it, deepens it with trembling lips. His hands slide to Jungkook’s small waist, his breath is instantly quickened, his heart races unbearably. He kneads Jungkook’s waist, touches it, grasps it. He needs to make sure he stays. He needs to stay please. Taehyung whimpers again, lips shaking against Jungkook’s, and then he slides his hands under his shirt to feel his naked skin.

Jungkook breaks the kiss with a gentle “hey”, followed by a chuckled, “what are you doing?”

“I’m yours, please I’m yours so, so claim me.”

“Claim you?”

Taehyung pushes at Jungkook’s chest to gain space. The younger man lets him, gawking at him in confusion. Taehyung hooks his fingers in his own shirt and pulls it over his head.

“Tae, no wait-”

He is shirtless, panting heavily but his eyes carried discomfort Taehyung wasn’t even aware that he felt it.

“God Tae, what are you doing?” Jungkook gasps.

“Take me, I-I can serve you well”, Taehyung stutters, presenting himself in an arch of his back. There are tears in his eyes and fragility in his voice.

Jungkook studies his naked torso for a second, exhaling deeply. He takes Taehyung’s discarded shirt and unbuttons it.

Taehyung puts his hands together and presents them to Jungkook, thinking that he wants to tie him up with the shirt.

But Jungkook doesn’t. Jungkook cradles his hands and holds them one by one as he slides the sleeves back on. He smoothes out the shirt on his back and closes it again in the front.

“I don’t understand. Do you not want me?”

“I do, just not like this.”

“Is it because I’m human? I, I can make myself pretty, I-”

“No Tae”, Jungkook cups his cheek, silencing his anxious words, “no Tae” he whispers, “you’re beautiful. So incredibly beautiful.”

Taehyung lowers his eyes. Jungkook continues with the buttons.

“But you seem unstable to me.”

Taehyung meets Jungkook’s eyes again.

“Consent is more than just believing someone’s words. It’s about reading the situation and I can tell that you don’t really know what you actually want right now.”

Taehyung sniffles in order not to cry. It has been a long time since someone saw him.

“Let’s drink something for now, okay?” Jungkook suggests, rubbing his upper arms soothingly.

Taehyung nods his head.

“Okay. Do you want lemonade?”

“Yes”, he whispers.

“Okay. Me too. I think lemonade is really yummy. You?” Jungkook asks, preparing the fruity drink.

“Me too”, Taehyung whispers, accepting the cup from Jungkook.

Jungkook clings cups with him, making him giggle and lift his shoulders to his ears in shyness.

Jungkook smiles at him, draping his arm around his waist.

“I like hearing you giggle, Tae. You’re really cute.”

“I am?”

Jungkook kisses his cheek, “you are.”

Taehyung whimpers and snuggles his face into his neck, squeezing his waist tightly.

“Thank you.”

“It’s the truth. You’re cute.”

“No. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For stopping it.”

Jungkook furrows his brows, tightening his jaw. How many people ignored the signs and took advantage of Taehyung’s unstable attempts to “serve”? He shouldn’t thank him. Not for something that should be the bare minimum. Jungkook is a very protective person. Once he loves a person (in whatever form that love comes) he will literally burn the world for them. He feels numbing anger right now, wanting to hurt whoever took advantage of Taehyung. But he doesn’t let it show for Taehyung’s sake, speaking softly with the mentally fragile man.

“You’ll always be safe with me, Tae.”

“I know”, his voice is shaky as he speaks.

“It’ll never change. You’re safe and I’m gonna keep you safe.”

Taehyung exhales shakily and while it was shaking, it carried the first indicator of stableness in it. Just a little, just enough that Jungkook knows that all Taehyung really needs right now is a shoulder to lean on and someone being gentle with his words.

“I don’t think I enjoy being dominant as much as I thought I did”, Taehyung confesses quietly.

Jungkook tries to glance at him as best as possible.

“Not in a sexual context, but in general. I crave to be taken care of. I ache for it.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. You are in a vulnerable mental state. It’s okay to want to be taken care of.”

Taehyung lifts his head, looking up at Jungkook with glassy eyes.

“Will you take care of me? Please? At least this?” he asks – begs – him.

“Of course Tae, I’ll take care of you.”

“Oh god”, Taehyung chokes out and buries his face in Jungkook’s chest, “this felt so good to hear.”

Jungkook closes his arms around him, massaging his scalp slowly.

“Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Yeah, let’s stay like this for a while.”

#taehyung romance #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #jungkook romance #jungkook fluff #jungkook x taehyung #taehyung x jungkook #bts romance #bts fluff #bangtan romance #bangtan fluff #bangtan x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #yoongi x reader #fanfic: caerula luna

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dreaming-medium · 2 months

Text

No Contact

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Word Count: 7.6k

Tags: ANGST with a happy ending, amnesia, memory loss, grief, pining, yearning, hurt/comfort

Summary: It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen. You weren't supposed to be in that car, but you were. When you lose your memories from the incident, Chan is ordered to stay away for your recovery's sake; but it takes a larger toll on him than anyone could have imagined. Until one day, he just can't take it anymore.

A/N: inspired by this post. Angst ahoy <3 I had too much fun writing this. Maybe I like writing emotions. Enjoy <3

—————————————————————

No contact. That’s what Chan was told was best for you. That’s what was going to help your healing process.

No contact whatsoever. No texts, no calls, no little surprise visits. No fucking contact. None.

He was told it would just hurt you if he talked to you— that he would just make it worse. That you would only become more confused and upset. It would be absolutely detrimental for him to see you.

Hell, it might even make you worse.

It’s killing Chan slowly. Every single day feels like torture for him. The days get exponentially worse. He feels like a hollow shell of his former self, like the wind goes through him when he steps foot outside. It feels like his shoulders are permanently sagged forward.

But the worst part is that you don’t even know it. You don’t know how he’s collapsing inwards like a dying star.

It was one of the worst car accidents the city has seen in years. A friend was driving you home that night; Chan had begged to be the one to pick you up, but no, you said it was fine, the friend was heading that way anyway. Why make the unnecessary trip?

You told him he needed sleep. Always putting his needs before your own. You always did.

He should’ve put up more of a fuss. He should’ve put his foot down. He should’ve already been outside the house in his car with the passenger seat warmer on by the time you left that stupid party.

He should’ve gotten out of the car and opened the door for you and had a cold bottle of water waiting in the cup holder. He should’ve kissed you on the cheek and asked you all about your time. He should have been there.

But he wasn’t.

A drunk driver slammed into the passenger side of your friend’s car at a speed that you shouldn’t have even survived.

Miracles do happen, though. But what a price to pay for a miracle.

For as long as he lives, Chan will never forget the sheer panic and terror he felt when the call came in from your mother. You were already at the hospital undergoing emergency surgery.

He was the last to know.

After all, he wasn’t your emergency contact. He’s only your boyfriend.

Was. Was your boyfriend. Was? Is that the right word? He isn’t. But he is. There was no breakup.

Is that what he’s going through right now? A breakup?

You’re not on a break. But what is this? What is this loss? This severance is so horrible.

It’s fucked up. It’s a fucked up, amnesia induced breakup.

Memory loss is a funny thing. Doctors scratch their heads and shrug their shoulders without any answers. The brain is a tricky thing.

Chan did what he was allowed to in that hospital. He sat in that stark white room under those harsh LED lights and he waited until you were awake. He even waited much longer after that because only two visitors were permitted inside your room at a time— and he wasn’t about to force his way in and kick one of your parents out.

He let your sister go in first. He even let your cousin go in before him. But when it was finally his turn…

He never got to see you.

“The last five years?” Chan asked with a tight throat. Did he even have any more tears left to cry? How is there any liquid left in his body?

“She says doesn’t remember anything, Chan.” Your mother’s voice was just as hollow as his. “She was asking about her freshman roommate.”

A doctor stood in between him and your mom. “It’s best if we don’t throw everything at her at once. Amnesia victims rarely never get their memories back, but we’ve found that it needs to happen organically. Seeing her will overwhelm her and that could stunt the healing process.”

Chan’s mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out at all. His heart may have stopped.

Does that mean…?

No…

“He can’t see her at all?” Your mother asked quietly. “Not even to visit? He doesn’t have to mention he’s her boyfriend, he can just say that he’s a friend, or a coworker, or—“

The doctor cut her off. “No contact. Not until we’re a bit through recovery and she’s starting to get her memories back.”

Chan was suddenly in a chair.

When did he sit down? The Doctor’s hands were on his shoulders and he was looking down at him with a sympathetic stare.

“It’s not forever, son.”

Chan was only able to nod. His mouth was so dry, the back of his neck felt clammy. His head was spinning.

Books often speak of moments as ‘Earth-shattering’. Of moments so catastrophic that the planet stops spinning on its axis and time stands still.

He gets it now.

The doctor spoke a few more words to your mother before walking away. She looked down at Chan sadly.

Your mother sat on the chair next to him and wrapped him up in a hug. His world was falling apart around him. You were slipping through his fingers. He couldn’t even see you.

Hot tears poured down his face while he sat there with his head in his hands. Why does it feel like he’s losing you? Why is this the only way? Why are these the cards that are being dealt?

Why didn’t he pick you up from that fucking party?

“She loves you, Chan… she’ll come to her senses, I promise, I promise.”

It’s been two months, one week, two days and eight hours since he’s talked to you. That long since he’s known peace. Since he’s known any sort of comfort.

You’re the last thing he thinks about before he closes his eyes at night and the first thing he thinks about in the morning. No matter how many times he wakes up and feels the cold bed next to him, it never dulls the ache in his chest.

It’s not a healthy mindset, he knows. And it’s not that you were codependent on one another, that’s not it at all. You were just… ripped away from him.

Food has no taste. The sky isn’t as blue as it used to be. Clouds don’t make fun shapes like they did with you by his side. The stars are still in the sky, he thinks, he hasn’t had the guts to look at them.

God, you love the stars so much. You always talked about how pretty they are— how absolutely breath-taking you think the universe is. Chan would simply listen, he would always listen. All he ever wanted to do was listen.

How is he supposed to look at anything the same way? How is any day supposed to be normal when half of his life is suddenly missing. What’s the point of making music if you’re not there to listen to it?

5:00 PM is the hardest hour to get through. You don’t open the door to his apartment when you get off work. You don’t tell him about the things that happened during your shift.

He can’t leave little snacks out on the counter for you to eat when you get home like he used to.

Mice would get to it before you did.

His lonely apartment is slowly losing your smell. He could spray your perfume, sure, you keep a bottle at his place, but it’s not the same. You somehow made the scent sweeter by letting it linger on your skin.

All of your old toiletries are still there where you left them. Your spare toothbrush has been bone dry and untouched since 9:28 AM that morning. Your shampoo bottles are still half full and waiting for you on your shower shelf.

It had rained a few days before your accident. You had started a puzzle on his dining room table that day– you told him it was the perfect rainy day activity. It was a picture of different comic book covers. It’s now collecting dust. Unmoved and unsolved.

Just like him.

It was a battle and a half to throw away your leftovers from two nights before your car accident. He felt like he was throwing away your normal life, your tiny domestic traces.

He didn’t want to cleanse you from his life, but you were washing away. Your ghost was eroding with time.

Your spare car keys are still hanging on the key ring. Your rain coat is on the third hook draped right over your work bag. Even your phone charger is still plugged into the wall on your side of the bed.

Did you know you forgot to put your favorite gold earrings on that night? You left them on the nightstand. They’re still there, don’t worry. Right next to the glass of water you drank half of.

Do you even remember them…? He got them for you for your first Christmas together.

There are so many signs of a life interrupted integrated so deeply into his.

You’re a clock whose hands stopped suddenly at 1:24 AM.

This sort of haunting is unbearable. You’re not a phantom in his life, though. You’re something so unattainable that he had once but it was taken away with empty promises of return.

It’s like you’re a shiny diamond hidden away beneath lasers and traps like in those stupid, cheesy spy movies you love so much.

Do you know what he would give to watch one of those with you in his arms right now?

Chan feels like he’s banging on the glass of a one sided window, screaming for you to remember him. Meanwhile you’re on the other side only staring into a mirror, trying to pick up the pieces from before.

Your mom sends him updates on your condition all the time. He knows that you started working at the local library about three weeks ago.

You had worked there in college before graduating and getting your last job. It was one of your favorite jobs you ever had. That library was so special to you.

To him too.

It’s the library where he first met you.

The same library Chan finds himself in front of now.

He shouldn’t go in. He can’t go in. He absolutely should not go inside.

Bang Chan you should not and cannot go inside this library. Under no circumstances should you step foot inside this building where your other half is working.

Absolutely not.

The door emits a soft ding when he opens it. Electronic. Quiet. Peaceful.

There’s a certain type of silence that sits in a library. It’s closer, thicker— warmer. It’s an expected silence. They’re supposed to be quiet.

Chan can hear his sneakers take every step on the carpeted floor. There’s no one sitting behind the front desk; that’s where you usually were.

His eyes look all around, but there’s no sign of you anywhere. A few people toddle around the shelves.

There’s more soft beeping coming from the self checkout. That’s new. They didn’t have that when you worked here years ago. You probably hate it.

On the day he met you, you were wearing a pair of dark green pants and a black long sleeve shirt. Your hair was clipped behind your head and pieces were falling over your face.

Chan was only in the library to look for the bathroom. He was on his way to lunch with a friend, but he just had to stop somewhere. The library was the closest option.

When he had heard the sound of books falling, he investigated and found you in the center of the carnage, the glasses on your nose sat crookedly and you rubbed your head.

Your eyes met. He was a goner.

How disgustingly poetic that he finds himself here now. Where he really shouldn’t be. He was quite literally prescribed a restraining order against you.

Chan meanders around with his hands in his pockets, the silence getting louder and louder the further he gets inside.

Maybe you’re not working today?

No one is anywhere to be seen. He’s checking down all the aisles but he doesn’t see you anywhere.

Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not here. He’s not supposed to see you anyway. He’s breaking the doctor’s rules by doing this anyway.

He needs to leave. He needs to get out of here.

His feet stop in front of the very aisle where he saw you for the first time.

Empty.

You-less.

If he thinks hard enough, Chan can picture you in front of him, laughing quietly with the most adorable, embarrassed blush on your cheeks.

What a moment.

Is it possible to spend eternity in that moment? Obviously internal clocks can be rewound, paused, flipped every which way; can he go back to that day? Can he go back to the day where every single poem suddenly made sense?

He would take any day, really, any day that had you in it. Birthdays, holidays, late night dates, Hell, he’d even take a day where he only saw you when you dropped off a drink for him in his studio.

Anything, he would take anything just to see your smile bloom on your face while he watches.

“Can I help you find something?”

His breath catches in his throat, it feels like he’s physically punched in the chest. That voice. That beautiful, melodic voice. He hasn’t heard it in person in months, only in videos he had on his phone.

Slowly, Chan turns to face the source of his favorite pitch.

His throat immediately tightens.

There you are. You. Beautiful you.

Standing right there. Looking at him like a complete fucking stranger.

“I…” his voice is hoarse. Chan can feel the tears in his eyes begin to form. He didn’t think this through, did he?

You’re staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to say anything. You’re waiting, come on, Chan. Speak up. Say something.

Looking up at the shelf, you look back down at him with a smile. “A history guy, hm?”

No.

“Yeah.”

You giggle. “I always had a thing for History.”

He knows.

“Really?”

“Mhmm.” You respond with a grin.

Specifically Ancient Rome. He knows.

You continue. “Specifically Ancient Rome.”

Chan nods and clears his throat. His palms feel so sweaty. His chest is almost panting. Every single cell in his body just wants to lunge forward and wrap you in a hug.

He wants to bury his face in your neck and sob while you hold him. He wants to tell you that he missed you so much. He wants to tell you how your pillow is losing the scent of your shampoo. He wants to tell you that he’s been DVR-ing your favorite show so that you can watch it later. He wants to tell you about his day. He wants to kiss you until you’re breathless. He wants you to hear the new song he’s been working on.

But—

“If you need anything, let me know.”

You start to walk away.

Chan feels his heart physically break. It’s happening again. He’s on the other side of that one way mirror. It’s happening again! No, no please.

His eyes widen, the words get caught in his throat. Fuck, Y/N, please!

“W-Wait!” he says quickly.

You turn around with a curious look.

“The Odyssey,” he blurts. “Where uh… where can I find it?”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, I love The Odyssey.”

He knows. You collect different translations of it.

“I collect different translations of that book, here I’ll show you where it is.”

With a little hop in your step you lead him towards all the classics.

He watches you like you’re an oasis in the desert— maybe it’s because you are. You’re what he’s been crawling towards for two months.

You lead him all the way to the shelf where the Odyssey lives. Your nimble fingers reach forward and grab one of the copies.

Green nail polish. You still paint your nails green. You picked that habit up a year after he met you.

The memories have to be there, Y/N, they have to be. Chan bought you that first bottle of green nail polish as a joke on Saint Patrick’s Day.

Y/N, please.

“This translation is my favorite,” you whisper and hand him the book.

Chan smiles sadly and takes the book from you, unable to meet your eyes. He knows if he gazes into those gorgeous eyes that he’ll lose it. He’ll fall to his knees and cry.

“Thank you,” he whispers back.

You stand there for a moment, he can feel your eyes on his face. He always has been able to tell when you were looking at him, it’s a little, secret superpower.

From foot to foot, your weight shifts.

You only do that when you’re confused. Why are you confused? Y/N, are you confused?

“I’m sorry…” you start, sounding so unsure. “You remind me of someone…”

It feels like a defibrillator was hooked up to his chest. Chan’s eyes widen and he finally looks up at you.

You’re looking at him so carefully. He can see the gears turning in your head. Your tongue pokes out of your lips and wets them.

Y/N, please.

“I just… I can’t figure out who. Do I… do I know you? I was—” You stop yourself.

Fuck. Fuck! What was he supposed to say? Fuck!

Chan wants to scream. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and cry that he’s your soulmate, that he’s the person that knows you better than anyone else in this world.

Yes, you do, you do know him. And he knows you. He knows how you take your coffee, what movies make you cry, what color jell-o is your favorite.

He knows that you never wear matching socks and you always lift your feet when driving over railroad tracks.

He knows that when you were 6 you ran into the corner of a cabinet and that’s how you got that scar next to your eyebrow.

Chan knows that your entire life you wanted to be an author but you’re so scared of failure that you decided not to chase after it.

He knows everything.

“I just have one of those faces, I guess.” It comes out of his mouth so strained.

You stare back at him so carefully. Do you see right through him?

“Maybe,” you say slowly. You don’t believe him. He knows that tone. You absolutely do not believe a word he’s saying. “Are you sure?”

Chan swallows, he grips the book in his hand tighter. The lump in his throat almost doesn’t go down, more tears prick at his eyes.

“I would never forget a face like yours,” he chokes out.

Your eyes widen and you blush, looking to the side with a smile. You always were a sucker for cheesy compliments.

After thinking for a second, you reach into your pocket and take out a little slip of paper.

“Here,” you say after scribbling something down. Holding it out, Chan sees it’s your phone number. He has it memorized. “If you ever need more books to read… or find… call me.”

Chan takes the paper with a racing heart. He gives you a smile, his dimples showing. “I think I will,” he whispers to you.

Another few moments pass of you just staring at him before you nod and giggle nervously. “Well, I gotta get back to work, so..”

Chan nods and moves to the side. You walk past him.

Your perfume curls around him like a blanket and he craves that sweet serenity he finds when he holds you close and breathes you in.

Three steps after you pass him, you turn around. “Oh, I didn’t catch your name.”.

“Chan,” he answers softly.

“Chan,” you repeat. It goes right through him.

Your voice. Your sweet, beautiful, melodic voice. Finally, he heard you say his name again.

“I’m Y/N,” you whisper to him with a friendly smile.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” Chan has to physically force the word ‘meet’ out of his mouth.

“You too, Chan.”

And with that, you were gone, retreating back into your fortress of papyrus.

—————————————————————

A bad idea was going into the library that day.

An even worse idea was texting you the day after to ask how your day is going.

And then an absolutely fucking idiotic move was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him.

And the worst part? You said yes.

So, now here Chan was, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom getting ready for what you thought was a first date, but to him was just a dinner date.

How is he supposed to do this? He’s not, that’s how.

Chan fiddles with his bracelet right before his phone rings.

His heart drops when he sees the caller ID, your mother.

“Ah, fuck…” he whispers before grabbing his phone. Of course you were going to tell your mom, you tell your mom everything.

“Hello?” he asks warily into the phone.

“Hi, Chan,” she says slowly, she sounds nervous, why does she sound nervous.

“How are you? Is everything okay?”

“It’s Y/N…” Her voice lowers. Chan’s heart drops. “Before you panic, she’s okay! It’s um.. she’s getting ready right now… for a date…”

Chan isn’t moving. Yes, he knows you are. He knows it. But words won’t form in his mouth.

“Channie.. I’m starting to wonder if that doctor isn’t right.. I can’t stand the thought of her finding someone else when you’re waiting for her… I tried to talk her out of it but she just seems so floaty and happy. God, I feel sick to my stomach.”

His jaw clenches. Now or never.

“It’s with me,” he blurts.

Your mom goes silent. Then a huge sigh comes out of her mouth.

“I wish I could say I’m angry,” a little laugh follows it. “I think I’m only angry that you didn’t say something.”

He tells her everything, down to the way he pretended not to know you.

“Well, you’re going to have to tell her eventually.” Your mom sounds unsure, herself.

“Or maybe she’ll remember me.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

Chan sits down on the edge of his bed. His eyes are staring at the wall, unfocused.

She’s right. What if you don’t?

“Then, I’ll just … do it all again.”

Silence greets him on the other side of the line. Another tiny laugh comes from your mom. “I always knew you two were perfect together. Just like two magnets, you always come towards one another.”

—————————————————————

“I’ve never eaten here before,” you say with a chipper smile on your face from across the table.

Yes, you have.

“Really?” Chan asks, taking a sip of his water.

“I pass it all the time and always wondered how the food was.”

He looks back down at the old menu.

This restaurant was more than special to him. It’s where he took you on your first date. It’s an old fashioned burger joint with the greasiest, most delicious French fries in town.

The first time you guys came here, you talked and talked until the place closed. And even after that, you drove around and talked until it was late.

“I’ve been here a few times, it’s really good. The milkshakes are some of the best I’ve ever had.” Chan’s sweaty hands fiddle with the menu.

He’s more nervous now than on the first date.

“What’s the best one?” you ask with a smile.

A small laugh comes out of his nose. “The peanut butter one.”

It was your favorite.

“Yeah but then you can’t have any,” you say so nonchalantly, looking down at the menu.

His eyebrows knit together. “What?”

“‘Cause of your allergy.”

He stops.

You stop.

He has a peanut allergy. Chan has a peanut allergy.

His lips purse like he’s going to say something but you beat him to the punch.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out. “I… I don’t know why I thought that.” Your hands grip the menu a little tighter. “Maybe I’m thinking of someone else?”

Chan shakes his head. “No, no, it’s okay. I… I do have a peanut allergy. Maybe I said something before?”

You stare at him for a long second before looking back down at the menu once more. “Yeah… um. Maybe.”

He definitely did not say something.

Dinner continues on. Chan listens to you talk and pretends he’s never heard your stories before and he tells you ones he knows he’s said before.

The entire time, you were beaming at him, just like you used to before the accident. Your face never loses its constant happy glow. He’s not sure that the muscles in your face know how to frown.

You’re the last two people in the restaurant. The staff doesn’t seem to mind. Maybe they recognize you both. Maybe.

A lull dips into your conversation. Both of you know you should leave. Neither wants to. Especially the broken man sitting across from you.

Chan takes the last sip of his drink. The bill has been paid for about an hour at this point. You’re looking down at your lap with a pink flush on your cheeks.

You bite your lip and look up at Chan carefully.

“Are you… are you sure I don’t know you, Chan?”

He stares at you. Did you know that you always bite your lip like that when you’re confused?

“I just… I really feel like I know you. There’s just…” you pause, trying to find your words. He knows you want to tell him about the accident. He knows you want to say it but you don’t want to weird him out.

What the fuck is he supposed to do? What is he supposed to tell you?

“Something happened to me a little while ago, my brain’s been… fuzzy since then,” you explain shyly. “I know you said you don’t know me but I just… I can’t help feel like that’s not true.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, his knee bounces anxiously underneath the table. His head turns to the side in his typical nervous tick.

Your mother’s words echo in his mind, his tongue suddenly feels like it’s swelling to the size of his mouth— making him unable to speak. Should he tell you? Is it now or never?

“I don’t mean to make it weird, Chan.”

He licks his lips and opens his mouth.

Your phone rings.

A sigh of relief comes from deep within Chan’s chest.

Reluctantly, you pick up the phone and hold it to your ear. “Hello? …. No, I didn’t know…. Yeah, of course…. Sure… Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Just as quickly as you answered the phone, you hang up.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “Someone called out of work for tomorrow, they need me to come in.”

“Do you need to get going?” Chan asks, looking down at the time. It’s well past 10 o’clock.

A sad smile crosses your face. “I mean… probably.” The time on your watch flashes back at you. He can tell you don’t want to go home yet.

“Come on, Y/N, I’ll walk you home.”

Chan’s already standing up from the table, picking his jacket up off the back of his chair. You watch his movements and slowly get up, your movements screaming reluctance.

—————————————————————

It’s three dates later when the two of you are walking down the street towards your house. It’s only a few blocks from here, but you both decide to take a tiny detour through the local park.

“I have to say I’m a little excited to meet your friends,” you giggle. “I hope that’s not weird.”

You already have.

“It’s not weird at all. I’m sure they’d like you.” Chan nudges your arm with his elbow, his hands staying in his pocket.

“Changbin sounds like a blast.”

He was your favorite before.

“The two of you…” Chan thinks over his words carefully. “The two of you would definitely cause some mischief.”

And you have.

A tiny lull of comfortable silence falls over the conversation.

Both of you meander towards the swings. A cold wind blows through the air but neither of you react to it.

With a tiny giggle, you sit down on one of the swings and hold onto the chains on the side.

You are just so… you. You’re just your authentic self. Amnesia or not, you haven’t changed a bit. It’s so charming.

“I can’t remember the last time I went on the swings.” You start to move your body back and forth, not too much but enough to get the tiny thrill the toy brings.

Chan walks up and stands next to you, his hand coming out and grabbing at the chain of the swing next to yours.

The brightest smile stretches over your face.

God, it really doesn’t take a lot to make you smile, does it? He guesses that means it doesn’t take a lot for him either since he smiles when you do.

He can’t help it.

He watches you move back and forth, the cold breeze kicking up a bit more and blowing dead leaves across the sidewalk.

“What’s wrong, Chan? Allergic to swings?” you tease.

He rolls his eyes with a smirk. “No, I just far more enjoy watching you have fun.”

Your cheeks flush. If he didn’t know you, maybe he would’ve chocked it up to the cold. But he knows the difference between your blush and the elements now.

“You’re a smooth talker, Bang Chan.”

“It comes easy with you, Y/N L/N.”

Another laugh from you.

“Shameless flirt.”

He puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch! I just speak the truth, that’s all. Not my fault I like seeing you blush.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth feels so natural. If he really thinks about it, he’s in a weirdly unique situation. Not many couples get to start over, to feel those butterflies again. But here he is, his palms starting to get sweaty as he imagines kissing you.

Would you call it a first kiss? Maybe.

It has been four dates. It wouldn’t be.. inappropriate to kiss you, would it? The two of you kissed on your third date a few years ago.

He wants to kiss you so bad.

Should he? Shouldn’t he? God, why is this so hard?

Chan reaches out and grabs the chain of your swing, pulling it to a very gentle stop.

“Uh oh, fun police,” you tease and look up at him with a grin.

Looking down at you, Chan allows his eyes to look over every detail of your face that he already had memorized. You haven’t changed at all except the new scar on the side of your forehead from the accident.

It’s the same eyes, same nose, same chin that he fell in love with so long ago.

The same asymmetrical eyes that you’re so self conscious of but he loves. Your hair is wind blown and splayed every which way. It adds a childish charm to your features.

Very carefully, Chan moves his free hand down to cup your cheek. His warm palm soothes your ice cold face. He hears your breath catch in your throat at his touch.

His thumb swipes over your cheek, fingertips run down the soft lines of your jawline. Eventually his thumb ends up under your chin which he tilts up.

Your eyes sparkle. They somehow capture the light of the lamps around the playground. But they’ve always done that.

You’re always so enchanting.

Is this a good idea?

Is kissing you the best option?

But does he even have the strength to stop himself now?

Almost three months without feeling your lips on his has been torture, and here he is, with you in his hands and there’s still this nagging feeling that he should stop.

One look into your eyes quells that anxiety.

Your eyes keep flickering down to his own lips, the shaky breath you let out is hot against his fingers. Everything feels warmer compared to the air outside.

He can’t take it anymore.

Chan leans down and presses his lips to yours. They’re warm and slightly chapped.

But, my god, he’s never felt anything this heavenly before. It’s like his entire body unwinds. Like a fire was lit inside his stomach.

He moves his hand to the back of your head and keeps your lips pressed against his. Your head tilts to the side slightly. It’s just like he remembers.

It’s just the first kiss, he can’t let himself get carried away. He can’t.

He can’t let his fingers wind through your hair. He can’t melt into your touch on his cheek. He can’t let himself drown in your lips.

But he is.

He’s letting you consume his very soul in one kiss.

How can something feel so healing yet hurt so badly at the same time? It’s like you’re ripping open a wound and bandaging it at the same time.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t bring his lips away from yours. Your hand slides down to caress his jawline with those soft, manicured fingers.

Your lips open and close over his like mirror images. The feeling shoots straight down into Chan’s gut. It’s like the first time for him all over again.

Those butterflies are going insane in his stomach. Your scent kicks up in the wind and he can’t help but take a large breath through his nose.

God, he can’t stop himself. It feels too good.

His hand moves from the back of your hair to cup your cheek and bring you closer.

He immediately stops.

Why is your face wet?

Chan pulls away from the kiss and looks down at you with concern written all over his expression.

You’re crying. Why … why are you crying?

Your eyes open and you look at him confused.

“Chan?” you whisper. You’re confused too. What?

“Why are you crying, Y/N?” he asks with a thick voice.

Your eyes widen and your own hand comes up to swipe at your cheeks. Sure enough, you’re met with tears.

“I… I don’t know,” you say so quietly. “I-I’m not sure.”

Chan starts backing away, your eyes snap to focus on his. Your hand shoots up to grab at his to keep him there. You’re still so confused.

Emotions are flying through your eyes. It almost looks like someone is clicking a light switch on and off in the back of your mind. A lightbulb is flickering in your soul like a dying neon sign in an old shop window.

Every muscle in your face is twitching.

What’s happening?

“Channie—“ your own voice cuts off by a sob.

Chan’s heart jumpstarts. You haven’t called him that… not in two months… that’s what you and your mother called him before the accident.

Are you…? Are you remembering? What’s happening?

Please.

Slowly, your hand falls from his.

Chan stays there, unmoving like a statue. What’s happening inside your mind right now? It looks like you’re reaching and reaching for something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

He's watching you struggle. It’s like when you can’t remember a word. It’s right there. It’s on the tip of your tongue.

You gulp, your eyes leave his and you look down at your lap. The dirt crunches under your feet as you shuffle your shoes around.

Chan swipes his thumb over your cheek, brushing away the tears. He’s biting back his own.

“It’s okay—“ “I’m sorry—“ are both said at the exact same time.

He knew it was coming. He knows you. But you don’t know him. Not anymore.

But you do.

“It wasn’t the kiss. I—“

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You know him.

“Chan, I really loved the kiss.”

Chan. Not Channie.

He brushes his thumb over your lips. “It’s okay,” he repeats gently. “You don’t have to explain.”

His other hand comes up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your eyes slide shut at the sensation.

Your bottom lip quivers and you pull it into your mouth and bite it. With a tight swallow, your throat bobs.

“It happens sometimes,” you whisper. “It’s from the accident I had.”

Chan continues to soothingly rub your skin with his thumb. Slowly, he kneels down to be in front of you rather than leaning over.

The dirt is cold on his knee. It seeps through the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” he whispers back to you.

You shake your head gently, your hands folding in your lap. “No, no. I… I want to tell you. I need to tell you. It’s been happening more and more whenever I’m around you. It’s like every touch, every word you say bounces around my brain and makes me feel the worst case of deja vu.

“Every time I’m with you I feel like I’m trying to recall a dream I had last night but I just can’t remember what it was.”

You’re rambling. You only ramble when you’re overwhelmed and scared.

“Chan, every time I’m with you it feels like some part of me is screaming to be let out.”

Your eyes open and you stare right through him. Chan feels his heart squeeze and almost stop completely. Despite your best efforts, the tears keep coming.

“I was in a car accident a few months ago. I had such a severe concussion that I lost the last five years of my memory.”

How is your voice so even?

Chan’s jaw clenches. Fuck fuck fuck.

He knows. Yes, Y/N. He knows. Fuck, does he know! If anyone fucking knows, it’s him.

“I—“ he starts but you cut him off.

“Please,” you choke out and take a deep breath. “And since then I’ve been getting bits and pieces of my memory back. Sometimes they’re in large chunks, other times they just … come back.

“When I try to think about my life before the accident. There’s this… person there. Someone important. Someone so, so important that it physically hurts me to think about how I don’t know who it is. They’re a constant. And I love that they’re a constant.”

Your hand comes up to clutch at your jacket right over your chest.

More tears come out of your eyes. The whites get more pink the more they flow.

“But I know them. I do! I know them like I know the back of my hand. I-I know they love music. I know they take milk and sugar in their morning coffee. I know they don’t get enough sleep at night.”

Louder and louder your voice gets as you grow sadder and sadder. The sobs between thoughts wrack your chest.

Him. You’re talking about him.

Chan’s hands hold your face gently. His thumbs can’t keep up with how much you’re crying.

Nothing has ever hurt this bad.

You know him. You just don’t know it’s him.

Nevertheless, you continue. “I remember that they have the most obnoxious phone alarm in the morning. I remember the passcode to their phone is 032518. I know that they have this one black sweatshirt that I love to steal even though it’s their favorite.”

Chan’s own eyes begin watering, he can’t stop it. You know him. You know him. You’ve remembered him this whole time and you didn’t even know it.

You reach up and grab one of his hands and place it on your heart. Underneath your jacket, he can feel your heartbeat thudding violently against your chest.

That same heartbeat he’s been dying to listen to while you play with his hair and tell him about your day. The heartbeat he would give anything to hear as he falls asleep. His throat gets tighter and tighter.

“I’ve been surrounded by bits and pieces of a ghost and no one wants to help me. No one will tell me anything, and I’m so confused, Chan. I can tell that there’s something that everyone is avoiding telling me.”

A gust of wind picks up through the playground. It nips at his cheeks. It’s now he realizes how many tears are falling.

A sob tears from his throat.

You grip his hand tighter.

“Tell me It’s you, Chan.” You’re begging. You’re actually begging while keeping his hand pressed against your heartbeat.

“Tell me that you’re the person that I see in my dreams. Tell me you’re the one that loves when I draw hearts on the bathroom mirror after I shower. Please tell me that you’re the one that loves the smell of lemon cookies but can’t stand the taste.”

Oh, god, Y/N.

“Tell me that you’re the one that wanted to pick me up from the party that night but I said no.”

He breaks.

He breaks right down in front of you. Every single ounce of self control leaves his body and he grabs you out of the swing, yanking you towards his body and holding you against his chest. The emotions that were being kept at bay come out like a raging storm.

He falls backwards into the dirt, you come crashing into him. Your arms wrap around him at the same time he wraps around you.

Chan buries his face in your neck, one hand on the back of your head and the other firmly around your waist.

Wails leave his mouth as he holds you to him. They’re deep and come from the very depths of his soul. The wound that’s been open for months is bleeding.

Every lonely night. Every dinner where he cooked for two instead of one by accident. Every long day he came back to an empty apartment. It’s all coming out.

You’re crying just as hard as he is, both of your hands gripping the back of his hoodie like a lifeline.

Your body in his arms is like a piece of a puzzle. Like he’s the dusty one sitting on his dining room table and you finally came in and finished it.

Weeks and weeks of grief come crashing down on him. He can’t lie anymore. Not to you. Never to you.

“It is me,” he cries into your neck, his hand running over the back of your head, feeling your hair slip through his fingers. It’s just like he remembers. “It’s all me, Y/N, It’s me.”

Your cries get louder, your body starts shaking in his arms.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he cries harder. “Fuck, I’ve missed you so much. I missed my girl. Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”

Chan can’t pull you close enough, he can’t get you close enough to his body. You shift around and press yourself into him.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry I didn’t pick you up that night. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

Every ounce of grief is surfacing and clawing its way out of his throat.

“I’m sorry I had to lie to you these last two weeks. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was so broken without you. I broke the doctor’s orders. I needed to see you, Y/N.”

Despite how hard he has you gripped against him, you manage to pull away slightly. You sit up in his lap and look down at his red, tear soaked face. His eyes are puffy and his chest is sputtering with sobs.

Both of your hands cup his cheeks and swipe away the tears the same way he did for you only a small bit ago. There’s a sad smile on your face.

“Please don’t apologize, Channie, it’s okay. I forgive you.”

Channie. You called him Channie.

He cries harder and buries his face into your chest. Your arms immediately come around him and keep him there, fingers threading into his hair.

You’re still crying. Both of you are.

“I know you were just doing what you were told to,” you whisper into his hair. He can hear your voice reverberate in your chest.

All he can do is cry.

Months of build up led to this moment. Endless days of going through the motions just for the next to be as dull and tedious led to him falling into you in the middle of a playground at night.

The only thing you do after that is hold him. You press kisses to the top of his head and whisper that you forgive him over and over.

Each one adds a stitch to the wound, shutting it.

You’re finally in his arms. You’re finally back where you belong.

“I missed you,” he says again, his cries dying down. He doesn't know what else to say. There's so much he wants to tell you, but everything dies on the tip of his tongue.

“I missed you too, Channie. My heart missed you so much.”

He sniffles and looks up at you. You pull your sweatshirt sleeve up and wipe away his stray tears gently.

“Every day it just felt like something was missing. It was you. You were missing.”

Chan can’t find any words to say. He just stares at you.

"I don't care how long it takes to remember, or even if I never do. I need you by my side for it, Chan."

His eyes sparkle at you for a moment but he leans up and captures your lips with his once more. It feels even better than the previous one.

The two of you relish in the contact, holding each other close and clinging to the closeness of it all.

It's taking everything within Chan not to start crying again. He's worried than any moment now, he'll wake up and this will all be some cruel dream.

But when you pull away from his lips, and he opens his eyes-- you're still there. You're still in his arms and smiling at him like you always did.

The burn is soothed.

“If you think about it,” you start with a tiny smile. “We’re lucky— in a way.”

His entire face screws up, even more confused. “Lucky?”

“How many people get to say they fell in love with the same person twice?”

Chan blinks twice before it feels like his entire body thaws.

You and your glass half full attitude. He’ll never fucking get enough of it.

His arms wrap around you again, bringing you down into his chest. You let out a breathy giggle

“You’re never leaving my sight,” he breathes out. “Never again, baby, never.”

“I don’t ever want to, Channie. I never will.”

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #bang chan #bang chan fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #bangchan fanfic #bangchan x reader

2K notes · View notes

forlix · 5 months

Text

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.

— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

words・6.4k

pairing・han jisung x female reader

genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn

warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut

playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han

a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡

smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare

Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.

It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.

So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.

Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?

Why can’t I follow?

Then he wakes up.

No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.

Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.

Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.

You see him.

Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways.

Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.

He hopes you like horror movies.

Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.

Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.

“Lix, hey!”

“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”

“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”

“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.”

This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.

“Eventful night, huh?”

He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.

“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”

“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”

Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.

A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.

“I’d like that.”

He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.

Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.

Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.

You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.

It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.

You turn towards it.

In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”

A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.

“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”

Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.

“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.

The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.

He wants to remember everything about you.

It’s not often he wants to remember anything.

Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you’ve yet to breach.

He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.

Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”

Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.

You do the stupid thing for him.

You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him.

The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”

“Gimme your lemonade.”

The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige.

You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.

The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.

“Open,” you murmur.

His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.

You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.

He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.

He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.

The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.

“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.

“You’re a monster,” he croaks.

You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”

One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.

“...and you still remember my address…”

A suckle to the lobe of his ear.

“...you can kiss me, for real.”

A trembling breath.

“And then some.”

Jisung moans, loudly.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things.

He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.

Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.

The back in his dreams keeps walking.

Jisung has never liked winter.

He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.

He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter.

And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.

This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.

When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.

His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.

Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.

“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”

“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”

“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”

Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”

“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.

“My bad,” he sighs.

“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.

“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”

The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.

“We’re waiting on one more person.”

He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.

“Who?”

Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.

“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”

Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.

In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.

This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.

But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.

“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”

You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”

“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”

Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.

“Hi,” he offers.

“Hey,” you reply.

Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”

Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.

It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.

He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.

Jisung: do you have plans after this?

Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.

He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.

Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.

Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…

He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.

Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛

With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.

He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.

Or both.

He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.

Jisung: me too <3

When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.

As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.

He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.

“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.

“What did you realize?”

“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”

Jisung has broken hearts before.

There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.

He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds.

There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.

Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.

“Sure,” he answers.

He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.

Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.

“I like when we don’t talk, though.”

It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.

Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.

The glass fogs up anyways.

“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”

You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.

Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”

The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”

Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.

It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.

“W-why’d—where’d you go?”

He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.

“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—”

He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.

“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”

You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.

You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.

“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”

“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”

“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”

“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”

He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.

“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”

“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.

And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.

He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.

Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.

He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.

Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.

“You squirted,” he says.

“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.

He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.

Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.

He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.”

There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.

His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.

Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.

After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.

Snow comes a few weeks into the new year.

This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen.

The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”

He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.

Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia.

When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.

You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.

He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.

“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.

The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.

Only then do you notice the blizzard.

You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.

Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.

“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.

“When did that happen?”

“I have no idea.”

You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.

“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.

He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.

Your ribcage fucking throbs.

“You don’t seem excited,” you say.

He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.

“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.

“You don’t like snow?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.

“It’s a long story.”

Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt.

You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.

“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”

“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.

A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.

“You’re not driving right now.”

He breaks eye contact.

“Right?”

That was the plan, you read in his expression.

You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.

You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.

And you won’t.

“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”

“Stay.”

You’re not asking.

Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.

Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.

“You can stay, Jisung.”

He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.

It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.

In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

The inevitable question follows.

“Can I save the story for another time?”

“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”

“We should.”

Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.

You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.

In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.

You wake to a black hole.

For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.

Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.

Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.

The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.

The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.

Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.

You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds.

But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds.

At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.

You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.

Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.

And you recognize him for the first time ever.

You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.

“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.

Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.

He’s been having this nightmare.

It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.

Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.

Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds.

Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.

This time, though, the snow tastes like something.

After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.

His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.

He wakes up.

“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”

You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.

“That’s—”

My shampoo.

A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.

“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I don’t want you to cry for me.”

“You died.”

“And I would do it again.”

This response comes without an shred of hesitation.

You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.

Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through?

Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.

He saves you the trouble.

“Honestly?”

Your confession stills.

“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.

“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”

You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.

“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”

You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.

“Don’t go,” he exhales.

You kiss him.

It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.

The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.

Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

The night comes and goes.

The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.

Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.

You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means: “Thank you for refracting me.”

Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten

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starlightervarda · 5 months

Text

I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???

🪴 plantdad Follow

You've got to be kidding me

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!

5,324 notes

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.

955 notes

🖖 iamspock Follow

Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.

For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.

Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?

I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.

💅 janicethemenace Follow

I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT

💉 xtinechapel Follow

DELETE THIS

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭

🔧 scott-free Follow

But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

DMing you rn 😳

🖖 iamspock Follow

You're welcome.

24,103 notes

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.

My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.

🪴 plantdad Follow

I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

Do I really have to say it?

6,322 notes

💊 mmmbenga Follow

The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist

⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow

Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.

💊 mmmbenga Follow

Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole

#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them

35,007 notes

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

Erica no! That's not how navigation works!

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

FLOOR IT???

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

ERICA NO

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID

🚀 mitchiemitch

ERICA P L E A S E

112,517 notes

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.

How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO

💫 numerouna Follow

Wait what did I miss while I was gone

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///

2,904 notes

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velvetmud · 7 months

Text

Little Rabbit

warning(s): explicit 18+, daddy kink, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, cum play, dirty talk, nicknames, riding, squirting, creampie, filth

a/n: random nasty nasty vulgar porn with no plot. nothing besides thirst inspired this

“Yeah, fucking right. Keep on bouncing like that. M’gonna tear this pussy right up,” Joel grins, triumphant smirk as he watches your pussy cream and convulse all because of him. His thick, condomless smooth member just making you lose it, ravaging your micro sensitive spots with every pump. “Gonna mold you to take this cock. Mm, feels delicious on me, baby.”

Your ass doesn’t seem to ever lose momentum, rising all the way up off his lap until just his tip is inside—teasing, wiggling all over it before slamming your pussy right back down. Loud squelching comes from both your pelvis’ joining together, the stringy wet spurts making a mess all over. Joel’s fingers are covered in it, your thighs combined are fucking smeared in it. He could close his eyes for the rest of this fuck and just listen to every thrust inside, could cum so hard so easily from the noises alone. The sound of your breath, the way you pant on top. Don’t even get him started on the movement of those hips on him, your pussy, that heavenly grip swallowing his girth.

“Daddy’s having so much fun, honey girl. Ffffuck, oh keep clenchin’ down on this thick cock. Yeah, take it—take what you need. My greedy, slutty little rabbit.”

You whine and speed up, aggressive hips sliding and zig-zagging to claim every inch. He gasps when your legs start to shake and pussy drooling out another beautiful gush, splashing his dick and staining his curly hairs.

“Mmmm, I feel that pussy losing control. C’mere, daddy’s gonna take over n’ finish us off.”

His grippy long legs worm around your thighs, trapping you down to the bed and onto his cock. Thrusts everything he can inside you, taking over to control the tempo. Those hands find your hair and gently give it a good yank, watching your slick build up on his base.

“My pretty little flesh light, always on this dick making a mess.”

You can’t turn around, but you feel him drag a finger from your labia to your ass, gathering up a trail of the cream. Hear his gruff hums while he pops the finger in his mouth. Drives his cock to sheath all the way inside, feeling both snug against your ass and smooshed into your guts.

“Close, close, daddy’s gonna—gonna make me—“

“Mmhm. Cum on your fucktoy, c’mon. Squeeze all over daddy.”

His pumps become sloppy, wet thrusts getting deeper and lazier as he feels your helpless tight walls soaking him with every push in. You answer his prayers, jolting back while your pussy lips drooled around him like a geyser, explosive shockwaves interrupting.

Joel chuckles and shushes your outlandish cries, grippy pussy unleashing the tension around him.

“Yeahhhh, I know little rabbit. Just ride it out on me. Love how happy I make this beautiful pussy.”

He feels lost when he spares another good look down. Taking the sight in. Connecting himself to you over and over.

The warning he spews is half assed, barely on time before ripping himself out. His cock slaps against his belly button, throbbing with every ripple of cum painting your ass and your lower back. He deliriously watches on as you wiggle back and forth some more on him, catching every glob. He knows how much you love his loads, how somehow it didn’t matter if he hadn’t cum in an hour or a day or a week—he could cum buckets.

By the time he’s finally emptied and all done, catching his breath and groaning his voice hoarse—his spend is slathered all over your backside, a lewd shot of the claim he’s stuck on you. As if your body was an uncharted discovery, something to nail his flag into.

“Milked me dry, baby.”

You sinfully peak back to eye him behind you before grabbing the base and sinking down onto him one last time, marinating in the sticky fullness.

“Oh fuck,” he utters, choking as he stops you with a forceful hand on a cheek.

“Can’t do that little rabbit. That’s how babies are made.” he rasps. Like it pains him to say.

Gently sliding back out, he pulls your body up on his stomach, uncaring of the sticky remanents getting everywhere as he slips in two of his fingers as a substitute. Pacifying you. Lets you glide yourself smoothly down his digits, still craving the closeness and stimulation from him. As he’s spreading more of your combined mess around, he scissors them deeper down as you slide further down nudging his knuckles.

“Shh, I know. Feels good having it inside, don’t it?” he murmurs. Licks his lips and continues studying you, your little facial expressions melting. “Someday baby, we’ll make love bare again, and I’ll pump you so full then plug it all up. We won’t leave the bed ‘til we know every last load that goes in gets you nice and full with my baby, or two.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #joel miller/reader #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller imagine

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barcaatthemoon · 2 months

Text

good girl || mary earps x reader ||

you get worked up after mary praises you on the field.

"good girl." the words had slipped out whenever you were on the pitch with mary. it was nice being so close to each other on game days, but occasionally, it got distracting. mary yelling out directions at the backline was hot. the praise you had received for blocking out a shot was even hotter.

you were grateful to be subbed out when you were because all you could think about was mary saying that in a different context. the two of you hadn't explored much in the bedroom, content with your sex life already. mary wasn't necessarily boring, but she did like to stick to what she knew. just like you wouldn't consider yourself kinky, just someone who went along with whatever their partners were into.

inside the locker room, you were definitely guilty of rushing mary out of there. it was a home game, so the two of you could just go back to her place. she had driven you to the game anyway. the two of you always spent the night together before and after games. it was rare that either of you even wanted to spend any time at your own apartments all alone.

"what was gotten into you?" mary laughed as she got into the car with you. usually, you would have been more careful about who could have been watching, but you really wanted mary. instead of answering her verbally, you grabbed onto the collar of her shirt and pulled her in for a kiss.

mary moaned into the kiss as your tongue swiped past her lips. she was always so eager to taste you inside of her mouth. you dropped your head just a little, but not enough to break the kiss. mary's hand moved to the back of your head, cradling it as she deepened the kiss. you were certain that the two of you could have gone a lot further if it wasn't for one of your teammates honking their horn at you.

"fuck, mary, we need to get home," you told her. the light chuckle died in mary's throat as she realized how badly you wanted her. she swallowed as she shifted the car into drive.

you had your hands on her the entire drive. mary was definitely speeding a bit, but she used the roads that she knew were clear to get home. she pulled into the first spot that she saw close to the doors. the two of you got out of the car, and mary didn't let you get more than a couple of steps onto the sidewalk before she was scooping you up into her arms and hauling you over her shoulder. it wasn't done in a sexy way at all, but you still felt a bit of heat pool in between your legs at her showing of strength.

"what the hell has gotten into you?" mary questioned again. you were laying on the bed in front of her. your eyes were wide as you looked up at her, pupils blown wide with lust. mary took a step closer to you to reach out and brush her thumb across your bottom lip. "talk to me. are you upset?"

"not at all," you told her. mary looked a little skeptical, but she trusted you not to lie to her. "i just want you to fuck me, mary. i want you to fuck me hard and fast while you tell me how good of a girl i am for you, please."

mary was rendered speechless at how forward you were. she lost all of her cool as she looked away from you. you got up onto your knees on the bed in front of her. mary still wasn't looking at you, so you turned her head towards you. she needed to see the look of need and desperation in your eyes, and you knew it.

"please," you pleaded with her. mary swallowed back everything that had bubbled up in her as she nodded. "you have to want it too. i'll do whatever you want mary, i swear that i will."

"you don't have to do anything for me baby," mary told you. she pressed a very sweet kiss to your lips before she let her hands drop from your cheeks down to your waist. "i know how ready and willing you are for me. that's why you're my best girl."

the praise had all of the heat in your body torn as to where it needed to go. your cheeks were flushed, giving away how turned on you were. mary was quick to twist your body around so that your back was pressed against her front. you expected her to leave and grab the strap on or something, but instead she just bent you over so that you were on your hands and knees.

"i bet that you're soaked under this kit. when you tripped over yourself earlier, was it because you were thinking about me doing this to you?" mary asked. you nodded, suddenly embarrassed about how badly you wanted mary to fuck you. all she had said was two words to you on the pitch, and you were a horny, bumbling mess. you felt a sharp sting on your ass as mary's hand came down to spank you. "answer me, i want to hear you say it. come on, i thought you wanted to be my good girl."

"fuck," you groaned. mary's hand moved from your ass up to grab your ponytail to crane your neck back. "yes, i was thinking about this. please, mary, just fuck me."

"hmm, i don't like being rushed, but you are being very polite about it. alright, take your clothes off and i'll be right back." mary let go of you and pressed a kiss to where your shirt had ridden up on your back. you scrambled off of the bed to undress yourself while mary went into the closet. you knew what she kept in there, so you knew what to expect when she came out, and yet, you were still a bit floored.

"mary," you breathed out. she smirked as she noticed the look on your face. you were practically drooling as you took in the marvel of a sight that was her standing naked in front of you with the familiar dildo that she had bought specifically for you jutting out proudly between her legs.

"it's okay, i'm coming honey," mary reassured you. she climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. for a moment, you thought that she'd just fuck you like that, but mary surprised you by slinging your legs over her shoulders. she leaned down just enough that you could feel the head of the dildo pressing against you as she put her focus on your tits.

mary's mouth and hands felt heavenly on your body, but it wasn't what you wanted. a part of you wanted to urge her forward, but mary was moving at a fairly comfortable speed. it was how she always was with you, but today, you were on edge a bit more than normal. you had been festering with your horniness for mary for too long, and she had done a wonderful job playing along with you whenever the two of you got back.

"you're being so patient for me-," mary pressed a kiss to the underside of both of your breasts, "-what a good girl."

"mary," you whined. she glanced up at you with an uneven smile and a look in her eyes that told you she knew exactly what she was doing. mary was teasing you a bit, but it wasn't out of a place of malice. mary just wanted to make sure that you were ready for her, knowing that you'd whine and whimper and throw a fit if she tried to just give you her fingers. that was what you always did whenever she wasn't as rough with you as you could have liked.

"shh." mary pressed a quick kiss to your lips as she lined up the tip of the dildo with your entrance. mary eased the toy inside of you and waited until you started to move your hips to move hers. she grabbed onto your hips as she snapped her hips forward a couple of times. "you're taking me so good right now."

you moaned, both from the praise and the way that her hips were roughly thrusting into you. mary pressed a couple of kisses to your lips, a little bit of a warning as her thrusts grew more forceful. you knew that mary was worried about hurting you like this, so you started kissing the side of her neck as reassurance. you were a bit too far gone to tell her that she was fine, but your actions worked just as well as your words.

"i want you to cum for me, (y/n). come on, be a good girl for me and let me watch you cum all over my cock. i know that you can do it," mary cooed in your ear. the softness of her voice contradicted the roughness of her thrusts, making your head spin. it was almost like there were two different people in bed with you, but both of them were inexplicably mary. "come on now, that's it."

you whined as your entire body contracted around mary. your arms and legs were squeezing her in an attempt to keep her still inside of you. the feeling of her sitting still inside of you was comforting until it began to feel like too much. mary seemed to know when you wanted her to pull out and did so without any prompting. she tossed the strap aside and moved to cradle you in her arms. this was always one of mary's favorite parts of sex, and occasionally, you wondered if she liked this more than the actual act itself.

"you did so good," mary told you. you smiled and hummed as you rested your head against her shoulder. mary pressed a few kisses to the side of your head before she groaned.

"you okay?" you asked. mary nodded, rubbing out a bit of soreness in the back of her thigh. "did you pull something?"

"maybe. a hot shower should make it go away." you knew what mary was trying to do, and unfortunately, it worked perfectly. you were out of bed within seconds to draw up a bath for the two of you. you knew that mary preferred showers, but it had been at least a month since you had talked her into a romantic bath for just the two of you. "it's ready mare!"

"coming!" mary shouted back, twice as loud as you had been. you chuckled as you shook your head, climbing into the bath and moving against the back of it. mary paused when she walked in to see the bubbles, but still got in and let you wrap yourself around her from behind. "i said a shower."

"and i wanted a bath. besides, i'll massage out the knots when we get out, i promise," you told her. mary hummed, seemingly satisfied for the time being.

#minors do not interact #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #mary earps x reader #mary earps imagine #mary earps smut

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dawndelion-winery · 3 months

Text

I Met You Once, I Loved You Twice

Celebrity au! Their persona, and then their true self, it seems like you were meant to love them regardless

Ft. Childe, Furina, Kaveh, Scaramouche (Wanderer), Wriothesley

[Idol! Childe, Actress! Furina, Racer! Kaveh, Artist! Scaramouche, Athlete! Wriothesley]

Childe:

You knew him before the fame, before the glitz and glamour; when he was just Ajax

And as horribly sappy as it sounds, you've loved him since day 1

Falling in love with Ajax was like slipping on ice while you're hiking up a snowy mountain

You get a little too caught up in the scenery, a tad bit too comfortable being around him

And suddenly, you fail to notice the patch of ice and slip, tumbling down the cliffside, your affection for him snowballing into something greater

And so you support him through his dreams of becoming an idol, writing to him while he's a trainee, making care packages for him

Anything for your Ajax

And when he finally debuts...

Oh boy, all the fans calling themselves his partner? They could dream on

You called dibs on him before any of them even set eyes on him

Besides, how could they even fall for someone just from watching them perform?

That was answered for you the first time Ajax excitedly insisted you watch him in the MV

You're not exactly proud of your reactions to seeing him come up on screen, but he seemed happy enough about it

Falling in love with the idol Childe was like drowning

Holding your breath, choking and flailing

It's dizzying until you finally succumb, which doesn't take long at all

And once he's converted you into a fan?

He's such a little shit, whipping out the idol persona for a smidge of free fanservice just to get you flustered at the most random times

And he's back to your sweet old Ajax in seconds too, acting like nothing's amiss

Furina:

The world's greatest actress finds that the world is her stage

Ever perfect, ever entertaining, her splendour is unparalleled

It was impossible not to adore such craft, and you easily fell in love with her acting just as one would fall asleep, gently and blissfully without even realising

Immersing yourself in her works, you develop a sort of fanaticism, delving deeper to find her interviews

She's beautiful whether or not she's filming, you find

So much so that you can't help but wonder how much of it is true

And so when you do, by some trick of fate, meet her, you feel compelled to ask

It's a dark, foggy evening, and you're taking a brisk walk along the forest

Who would've thought you'd bump into her then?

And so you strike up conversation, eager to interact with your favourite actress

And when you broach the topic of her facade, you notice she gets a tad bit defensive

So you apologise and back off, meaning well, hoping to see her again

And you do: these late walks become a regular thing, and slowly, you start to know her for who she really was

It's almost like meeting her for the first time all over again, and it very well may have been if you don't count the act as meeting her

Falling for Furina, your friend, was like taking an ice bath

Frigidity seized you almost instantly, and yet, as you stayed longer, the more pleasant it felt, almost soothing in a sharp sort of way

Kaveh:

Not just anyone could race in what was known to be the pinnacle of motorsports

And Kaveh? He was brilliant, the light of Ksharewar, the face of the team

And frankly, a very charming face

Often regarded as one of the prettiest on the grid (if not the prettiest)

He's really raking in the viewers

Imagine people seeing *1* edit of him getting out his his car post race and suddenly they're invested in races

Ofc being a new fan, the gatekeeping you have to put up with is ridiculous

"I bet your favourite driver is Kaveh because he's handsome."

As if he's not one of the most talented to ever grace us with his presence?

He gets so involved with the car's engineering honestly he should just build the car himself too atp

He is speed on the track

And falling for the light of Ksharewar through the television screen is an adrenaline rush in and of itself

So bumping into him in real life was just breathtaking

You sincerely hoped you didn't come off as some crazed fanatic with the way you rambled on about how much you loved seeing the way he pushed the car to its limits and everything

Overall it was a great once in a lifetime experience and you planned to treasure it

Until it was just a once in a lifetime thing and you seemed to bump into him a fair bit ("Hey aren't you that fan that completely went off about the car that time?")

Once you'd started talking to him more frequently, the rush of meeting him started to fade into less of a frenzy, and more of a bubbling excitement

Falling in love with Kaveh was like taking a breath of fresh air and letting the chilly breeze fill your lungs, a crisp clarity creeping through your senses

But from the faint flush of pink on his cheeks, perhaps the opposite was the case on his end

Scaramouche(Wanderer):

You've heard of artists with depression, now what about artists with borderline personality disorder?

The first time you'd met him, you didn't even know it was him

You'd been at an art gallery admiring the works signed off by Kunikuzushi when a stranger stood beside you

"You've been staring at this sculpture for a pretty long time."

"I like it. I don't think I've ever felt such yearning embedded in stone."

The stranger didn't respond, but nodded in acknowledgement and continued to stand beside you

Falling for Kunikuzushi was like falling in love with shadows

It was no more than a feeling, a yearning, a desperation much like what he portrays in his works

Everything you knew about him seemed to drown in sorrow, loneliness, and self destruction, yet having never met him, you were sure this was only one small aspect of his being

Which left you ever curious

Curiouser still was that same stranger with the odd navy blue hair who always seemed to happen to bump into you at these exhibitions

Without fail, he'd prompt you to speak, as though digging for your thoughts on each piece

Not that it bothered you, the stranger felt familiar, and had become a welcome face

Warm was his presence and gentle was his gaze, yet a detached coldness kept you from him

He was beautiful, you noted, like moonlight, with all it melancholic splendour and grace, like the paintings and sculptures you loved so dearly

And so you found yourself falling for a beguiling stranger whose name you knew not

You loved him like the sea loves the shore, always reaching for him, but pulling back in uncertainty

"You're oddly silent today," he notes.

"I was thinking of how much this piece reminds me of us. It's weird, isn't it? How I'm seeing things, drawing links to some stranger."

"Not really. I made it like that for you. We don't have to be strangers."

Wriothesley:

Baseball player Wriothesley who has his fans swooning at his charming grin and chuckle

A real heart stopper (he could beat me with his bat)

Fans adore him regardless of whether they're simps (they are) because he's good at his job

The only people who hate him are fans of the opposing team

The way his arms flex with every swing, in this essay I will-

He's built like a tank and plays like one too

So obviously you'd expect him to be a pretty confident kind of guy

And he is

He's a charmer, a smooth talker, and painfully level headed

So why was this beefy cannon suddenly bashful over your incessant praise?

Just look at him, which of his fans haven't fallen completely smitten?

Falling for the star player was like stepping into a big city for the first time, and being wowed and blinded by the lights and massive skyscrapers

But Wriothesley was a soft person at heart

And oh so very vulnerable to affection

For every compliment you uttered, he'd readily deflect it, but when they just didn't end?

Boy was he at a loss

He did end up treating you to coffee, so that was nice

But he was very obviously avoiding your gaze which he deemed to raw for him to meet

Yet it is that exact raw adoration that he can't quite dismiss

He knows how superficial fawning can be, yet there's an undeniable gratification when it comes from you

So he keeps you at arm's length, letting you in ever so slightly, but never too close despite not pushing you away

Falling in love with Wriothesley was like planting a seed and nurturing it as it grows

The germination takes place out of sight, the results unnoticeable until it finally sprouts as a fragile sapling

Discouraging as it may be, with continued work, it does get easier

And when he's secure enough to trust you entirely...he promised to return all your efforts tenfold

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating

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stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: grinding on Eddie until he cums in his pants, there’s no real plot here tbh

Warnings: smut, dry humping, sub Eddie, minors DNI

A/N: based on this ask from my darling 💀🦄 anon! they sent me this ask and I just had to write to something, I literally churned this out in like half an hour once I got going with it so thank you sm for the inspo!! I hope you all like it <3

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

“Fuck” Eddie groans into your mouth. “I’ve been wanting you… all… fucking… day” he whispers between kissing you.

You smirk into the kiss as the two of haphazardly make your way towards Eddie’s bedroom, desperately trying to keep your lips together as you stumble through the trailer.

The two of you giggle lightly as you crash through his door, Eddie quickly slamming it shut behind you. He all but throws you onto the mattress and jumps straight on top of you, wasting no time in pressing his lips back against yours. His hips slot between yours and he starts to grind into you. You could feel how hard he was even through his jeans as he rubs his crotch between your legs. He groans and grunts into the kiss, his lips moving just as fervently as his hips. He really had been desperate for you all day, that was plain to see.

Eddie slides his hands down your sides, reaching under your skirt. But before he has the opportunity to do anything else you flip the two of you over, pushing Eddie down on his back. He looks up at you with a mixture of awe and confusion as you sit up, your hips settling over his. He moves to sit up himself, to bring his face back to yours, but you simply push him back down with a light tut.

He smirks up at you, thinking he knew where this was going.

“Oh you wanna ride me do ya?” He asks cockily. “Well, be my guest babygirl” he hums.

Eddie leans back against he mattress, relaxing as he thought you were about to take care of him. He starts to undo his belt buckle, but hesitates for a moment when he sees your face. You tilt your head at him, a sinister smirk of your own painting your face.

“Hmm not quite” you taunt as you grab his hands, stilling his movements.

He looks at you with confusion as you pull his hands away, placing them on your thighs that rested on either side of his hips.

You keep your eyes on his and slowly start to buck your hips back and forth, pushing down as you did so, grinding hard against the tent in Eddie’s pants.

“Oh fuck” he hisses, his hands squeezing your thighs. “W- what are you doing?” He asks, his voice strained.

You don’t answer him save for a small giggle, you just keep humping him, your body rocking against his. You rest one hand on his stomach, using it for balance and momentum as you increase your speed.

“Shit, shit” Eddie groans, one of his hands moving to run through his hair.

You revel in the tremble you can see in his fingers, you can feel him shaking slightly underneath you. It just turns you on even more, spurring on your movements. You knew he’d been horny for you all day, he’d told you as much. And you knew because of that he wasn’t going to last long. But you were having too much fun to care. Watching him like this, a complete puddle under your touch, was almost just as good, if not better, than letting him help get you off as well.

“Fuck baby stop” he begs, his hands running up your thighs to grab at your hips desperately.

“Uh uh” you tut, grabbing his hands again and pulling them off you. “No touching, Munson. You keep your hands where I left them” you command huskily, returning his grip to just above your knees.

“Baby please” he groans, his eyes screwing shut, his face contorting.

If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was in pain.

“Stop, stop. Please stop” he pants. “If you don’t stop I- I’m… fuck… uh… I’m gonna cum in my fucking pants” he whines between his sinful moans.

You hum in satisfaction; “maybe that’s exactly what I want, babyboy.”

“Oh fuck” he practically cries, throwing his head back once again.

You giggle again and increase your speed even more, humping him with everything you had. You even let yourself moan, relishing the feeling of his hard clothed cock grinding against your pussy. Your fingers dig into his stomach where your hand was splayed there, supporting yourself as you continue to buck against him. One of his hands move to hold that hand of yours, his fingers still trembling as he held onto you.

“Seriously, I’m not… not gonna last” he rambles breathlessly.

At that you lean forwards, keeping up your grinding motion as you bring your face dangerously close to his.

“Good” you whisper against his lips before quickly sitting back up and grinding harder into him.

“Shit shit shit” he mumbles incoherently. “Oh fuck, fuck… fuck…oh…” his voice pitches in tone and his fingers dig into you even harder.

With a final loud grunt and pathetic whimper you feel his body go rigid beneath you as he reaches his climax. A string of incoherent and barely audible profanities fly from his mouth as the pleasure courses through his body. You moan in satisfaction when you feel the warmth beneath your pussy, the wetness of his cum as it seeps through his jeans. His chest rises and falls heavily, his fingers squeezing yours so tight it hurt. He practically shudders as you keep humping him, milking out his orgasm, slowing down just enough to keep him the place of pleasure without overstimulating him too much.

“Fuck!” Eddie swears loudly once he starts to come down.

He sits up on his elbows and looks at you with wide eyes, his face flushed and sweaty. You just chuckle to yourself, so unbelievably pleased with yourself that you’d just managed to get this boy to cum in his pants just by grinding on him. Not to mention how wet it had made you, your pussy was aching and desperate for your own release. He just looked so fucking good like this, putty in your hands, breathing raggedly, his hair a mess, his face clammy, his fingers still trembling. All of this, looking so incredibly fucked out, and you hadn’t even actually fucked him.

Your reverie is broken and you squeak in surprise when Eddie suddenly flips you over, pinning your body down into the mattress. You barely have time to acknowledge the change of positions when you feel his hand dive straight between your legs. His pushes his fingers through your panties, the thin fabric brushing against your clit as he quickly starts to rub small circles. Your hips involuntarily buck up into his touch, craving the same release you’d just provided for him.

“Eddie wh-“ you moan but he cuts you off with sinister smirk of his own.

“Shhh, I’m simply returning the favour. Now it’s your turn to cum in your pants.”

Masterlist

A/N: yikes I’ve genuinely never been so horny over my own work before asdfghjkl I am fucking wet lmaoooo! um yeah I hope you guys liked this!! <3

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

#stranger nightmare #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn stranger things

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sluttyminghao · 2 months

Text

Seventeen x Phone Sex

95 line - 96 line - 97 line - 98+99 line

♡ word count: 1.1k ♡ genre: smut - 18+ only ♡ a/n: here is the 96 line version! i hope you guys enjoy! shoutout to @bf-wonu and my friends at @svthub again for helping with this!

Junhui: This man would be insanely giggly every single time you suggest phone sex or have any conversation that leads up to it. He’s going to not be anywhere close to dominant, and may, in fact, become a little more submissive just because he doesn't know what way the conversation will end up going. Jun is going to be very whiny and tell you what to do, but he’s going to be edging himself for god knows how long because he’s addicted to your voice. Every single time you moan or whine out when your fingers touch your sensitive body, it sends a lightning bolt of want and need through his body and only makes him speed up his own hand movements. “You sound so pretty like this, wish it was me that was getting those noises out of you instead though.” I think he’s also the type to have like…a pillow he uses to fuck himself into or a fleshlight of some kind because he just needs to have his cock enveloped in something and hear your voice whilst simultaneously fucking into a fleshlight or a pillow? It would immediately send him over the edge. When he’s feeling dominant, however, i think he would definitely take action in telling you what to do, but would never tease you because he’s holding on for dear life with his own orgasm. He knows what you want and when you need it, so would get you to the edge super quickly.

Soonyoung: He’s definitely very impulsive when it comes to phone sex. You could be at home doing some work and all of a sudden he’s texting you like crazy and calling you a hundred times, and when you finally answer he’s heavily breathing and fucking himself up into his hand. Even though you can’t see him, you know exactly what’s happening and ask him what he’s been thinking about, only for him to retort back with some of the filthiest images either of you could think of. “Was thinking about how I tied you up the other day and your body looked so perfect and ready for me…and then also was thinking about that one time i made you cum so much you passed out” He would definitely also be the type to do video calls as well, and as soon as you pick up you know you’re in trouble when you see how he’s angled his phone just perfectly so that you can see every inch of him, and it gets you going immediately. Soonyoung is very “no thoughts just need to cum” and would be spouting orders for you left and right while he jacks himself off like he’s insane. He’d be telling you to strip for him, get your tits out and play with yourself until you’re both cumming, but he makes you wait until he’s about to cum so you can cum together. Immediately afterwards, he would send you photo proof of how much he came just so you know what you’re in for when he gets home.

Wonwoo: If there’s one thing everyone can agree on with Wonwoo, it’s that his deep voice would instantly have you cumming. He is definitely on the more dominant side when it comes to phone sex, he loves being able to guide you through with a stern voice, letting your whimpers and moans hit his ear in just the right way that his cock twitches. When he’s in the mood, you can tell because his voice drops at least an octave and grows raspy, which only lights the lust fire in your belly and drives you crazy. He would spill the filthiest phrases, telling you how bad he wants you and every single position he wants you in, as well as how much he wants to fill you up with his cum. He’s also definitely the type to play mind games with you, tell you that you can cum and then say things like “oh did I say you could cum? I didn't mean to, oops, now i guess you’ll have to make it up to me” or “if you didn’t cover your fingers then you didn’t fuck yourself hard enough”, and also loves using those toys you can connect to over wifi where he can control the vibrations and movements of said toy. He would make you cum so much with the toys that you grow so sensitive and he only draws it out even further for you, making you so sensitive to the slightest touches and vibrations have you moaning and clenching. His raspy voice wouldn't help either, especially so when he tells you he wishes your hand or mouth was wrapped around his cock rather than his own hand and he’d cum a lot, it’s splayed all over his thighs and abdomen and then also is wishing that you would be the one to clean it up for him. You’re just his good little whore, after all.

Jihoon: With Jihoon, it’s very common to have sex over the phone given his constant desire to want to be in the studio. He would probably have a schedule where he calls you like once or twice a week later at night, probably when he’s at his most frustrated when he’s producing or writing, and just lets his frustrations flow in the form of mutual masturbation. He wouldn’t be overly dominant or submissive, but rather just goes with how he’s feeling and how frustrated he is. If he’s been struggling for a while, he would probably go a little more dominant, and if he’s doing alright, he’d be pretty neutral. With how often you guys have sex over the phone, he would pretty much know exactly what to do and when, really has it down to a pinpoint on how well he knows you, down to your breathing patterns when you’re getting close to your orgasm. He would also be pretty easy to come undone as well, given that you can push his buttons hard enough. If he’s frustrated, you want to get him off in as little time as possible so that he can focus again. If he’s chill, then you can drag it out and edge him for a while until he finally snaps and switches to dominance. I think he’s not one to talk dirty often, and would only use it on the odd occasion where he’s feeling more dominant than normal. He’d be very careful with his wording but manages to speak fluently in dirty talk when he’s in the mood, calling you his good little slut and whore and getting you over the edge and getting you moaning which in turn, gets him to cum all over his thighs.

#sm: masterlist 2024 #sluttyhao smut #sluttyhao reaction #kpop smut #kpop reaction #seventeen smut #seventeen reaction #junhui smut #soonyoung smut #wonwoo smut #jihoon smut

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wileys-russo · 6 months

Note

Well you already know what we want bestie….

blurb based off vics comments about Less’s driving AND the beautiful suggestions from @wonder-kid-pugh @lessilover and you PLEASE i am down so bad for being less passenger princess and viccy p best friend

reckless II a.russo x platonic!viccy p

"less. less. less!" victoria shrieked as the blonde slammed on the brakes, looking like she was about to speed through the red light but changing her mind last minute.

"stop shouting you're throwing me off my concentration!" alessia groaned, shoving the dutch girls shoulder who let out an angry string of her native language. "what did she say?" alessia turned to glance at you who knew more dutch than she did having begged viv and lotte to teach you.

"nothing you want to hear baby, trust me." you smiled knowingly causing alessias scowl to deepen as she glared at the shorter girl beside her. "you drive like a crazy woman!" victoria accused, grabbing her seatbelt tightly as alessia shot off again once the light went green.

"you panic like a grandma!" alessia shot back, the two of them bickering back and forth as vic jumped every ten seconds, cursing under her breath and grabbing the handle of her door with wide eyes.

"how do you do this every day! how!" your friend now turned to look at you with panicked eyes, head popping over the back of her seat. "because she doesn't carry on like a numpty and grab the oh shit handle every three seconds!" alessia angrily answered for you.

"numpty. what is numpty? you have not learned me that one." victoria frowned, looking between you both for an answer. "taught. not learned." you corrected gently, the dutch girl nodding and repeating the word a few times.

"less that is too close, less, less, alessia!" victoria returned to her panicked yelling as your girlfriend sped into the drive through of your favourite coffee place, stopping right behind the car in front. "honestly you are so dramatic victoria!" alessia groaned, rolling her window down to order.

"baby. usual?" her eyes flickered to meet yours through her rearview mirror with a lovesick smile, tone of voice much softer as you nodded happily. "

i will have-" vic started but a bark of laughter cut her off. "why should you get anything! all you've done the whole time is yell and panic and scream and insult me. when i am doing you a favor!" alessia protested as the car moved a little closer.

this again started their back and forth arguing as you chuckled to yourself at their expense. "lessi, its your turn to order." you leaned forward to squeeze your girlfriends bicep to gain her attention, their argument pausing for a moment.

"she is crazy!" vic mouthed to you with a scowl as you grinned and playfully rolled your eyes, a loud smack echoing through the car as alessia hit vics leg and gestured for her to order.

"hey no stop that." you put your hands in between them as vic was quick to retaliate and your girlfriend wound up to smack her again.

"and a large almond milk cappucino with one sugar and no chocolate on top pleasee." you held their hands in yours and called out the final coffee, having gone out for coffee enough with vic to know her usual.

"when i let go, neither of you hits one another." you warned, looking between them both as they begrudgingly nodded and you did so, alessia moving the car forward.

"i like this. this is good safe speed." vic sighed in relief as alessia slowly crawled through the drive through, paying for your coffees with a polite smile, murderous glare shot to the midfielder beside her.

"next time your car has any issues you can take a bus. or a long walk off a short pier!" alessia mumbled moodily, ignoring vic questioning of what she meant, accepting the tray of drinks with a grateful smile and pulling into a parking spot as she exited the drive through as they balanced on her lap.

"here baby. kiss?" alessia withheld your coffee from your outstretched hand as she puckered her lips expectantly causing a soft smile to cross your face.

"give her the coffee!" vic shoved her, ruining the moment and almost spilling the drink everywhere as you quickly leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the blondes mouth, swallowing the angry remarks directed at the dutch girl beside her before she let them fly.

"one more." alessia captured your lips in her own again with a soft smile as you attempted to pull away, eventually handing you your coffee as you settled back into your seat. "is it like this all of the time?" vic gagged as alessia pulled out of the parking spot she'd stopped in.

"normally she sits up front but no i had to pick you up first didn't i!" alessia grunted with a frown, her car making all sorts of noises at her as she backed out. "less there is a car!" vic shrieked grabbing her hand as alessia slammed on the brakes and narrowed her eyes.

"i know you idiot! thats why i have a camera." she shoved the shorter girl away with a roll of her eyes. your hand slipped forward to gently massage the older girls shoulder, sensing her thin remaining veil of patience was very close to snapping entirely.

"stop looking at her in the mirror! eyes on the road less!" vic smacked alessia's thigh rather harshly as the striker stared at you adoringly through the rear view mirror.

"you do not need a nice car. you are too clumsy!" vic scoffed, again grabbing the 'oh shit' handle in her spare hand as alessia flew over a speed bump with a roll of her eyes.

"shut up!" alessia snapped, zooming around a corner causing vic to shriek again as the two of them started to argue once more.

having long given up on trying to break it up the bickering already having commenced as you'd gotten in the car once alessia picked you up, having offered to drive vic this week while her car was being fixed after someone rear ended her.

instead you just sipped on your iced coffee and stared out the window, laughing to yourself at the childish insults they slung back and forth at one another as alessia pulled into colney, flashing the security guard at the boom gate a smile and pinching vic's leg as she pleaded with him to take alessia's license off her.

finally alessia pulled into her usual parking spot, a few of the other girls wandering through the lot toward the training centre. you didn't bother to try and intervene as your girlfriend killed the engine, her entire focus now on her argument with vic beside her, neither backing down.

with a shake of your head you grabbed your gym bag off the back seat and slid out of the car, the other two following suit. "don't slam my door!" alessia warned with a filthy look as vic re-opened and re-slammed the door to prove her point, the two girls grabbing their own bags as the argument followed the three of you inside.

"woah woah woah!" leah was the first to step in once you entered the cafeteria, yelling over the two of them to settle down as you wandered off to sit down for breakfast. "have a lovely calm mornin drive in then?" katie grinned as you slumped into the seat beside her and caitlin.

"you have no idea."

"vic, vic, victoria!" kim yelled over the top of the younger girl, silencing her with a firm glare as leah dismissed alessia to try and ease the mounting tension between the two.

"hi baby." you smiled as your girlfriend stormed over, dropping into the seat beside you and pulling you off your own to sit on her lap instead as katie and caitlin disappeared to grab breakfast.

"we are never driving her anywhere ever ever again." the taller girl mumbled into your hoodie, face pressed into your back as her long arms wrapped tightly around your torso.

"i didn't get to kiss your cheek, hold your hand, talk about how your night was, listen to your new songs of the week. none of it!" alessia frowned grumpily at the break in her usual routine, slumping back into her chair still holding onto you tightly as you turned slightly to face her better.

"okay first of all you know how my night was less, we were on facetime for like five hours!" you teased, pressing a few short but sweet kisses to her lips. "secondly, i'll ask if viv and beth can drive her for the rest of the week since laura's allowed to drive herself again now." you smiled, arms looping around her shoulders, nails scratching lightly at the base of her neck.

"thirdly, you can come over and cook me dinner tonight and i'll show you all my new songs." you smiled softly, alessia nodding in agreement, pulling you even closer to her and pressing her face into your arm, quite touch starved from the drive over making you laugh.

"-and look at them. if you think less would ever let any sort of harm come to that girl you're joking, she practically kisses the ground she walks on vic!" leah chuckled nudging the midfielder to look at you and alessia.

"they are so cute it is disgusting." victoria agreed, watching on as you and alessia stayed wrapped up in your little love bubble, exchanging soft kisses as alessia tickled your sides for something making you laugh and smack her shoulder as she grinned and stared up at you adoringly.

"fine. but i am still never ever getting in a car with her again!"

#alessia russo x reader #woso blurbs #engwnt #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #victoria pelova x reader #victoria pelova

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qvrcll · 5 months

Text

nsfw + possessive + dark themes

watched tbosas and what better way to commemorate than to write a little piece for this man! experimented with themes i haven’t really written before, but it was great! :-] happy reading and HELLO SAILORRR

coriolanus snow who catches you forthwith when you try to craft your escape. it’s no surprise - his nous is extraordinary, top of the cream, and his delusions are even more so inclined. you’ll think he’s angry with you, come to make little peace and destroy it if it has, but when he stares at your with bloodshot eyes, it surprises you first. his hands are soon driving at your sides, his head sunk against your neck and soon enough, the two of you are attempting some sorry attempt at rekindling in bed, later.

coriolanus snow who likes to slot his fingers in your mouth, seeing how many you can take before you’re choking on your attempt at conviction. it would start out innocent (ironically), where he’s brushing your lips with his fingers. light, delicate, before his head filters into red; the smell of your heart heavy on his tongue. he has a sudden urge to bite, push, and a finger enters you mouth. if you’re surprised, it is barely noticed, because his rough fingers mesh so easily in the cavern of your mouth. they float above your teeth, mix with the stain of your saliva. on other days, when you’re good, he’ll like to shove them further down, revel in the blend of your chokes and insolent mewls.

coriolanus snow who is too skint and mad to hide his need for you. when he fucks you, he takes his share like a dog — pressing your bodies together till the skin burns, pistoning his hips till the bone aches, pressing his teeth to your throat and biting softly just for frisson. when you resist his tight hold, tell him to loosen up, he only takes it as initiative. he’ll paw at you like something sickly, a parasite in need of housing. he’ll stretch your leg up farther, groan when your cunt allows for a little more of him.

coriolanus snow who knows how infatuated you are with his little uniform getup. he’s out for hours on end, working tirelessly to make it back to the stretch of the capitol, so it’s only fair that he’s caked in sweat. his hat rests low, darkening his eyes and his uniform almost sticks to him. he’s annoyed, trying to push the feeling away when he waves a tired hand towards your beckoning form. but he’s pleasantly surprised when you lose your edge, look away more often, face red with affront. sure, his fingers are soon on your chin, voice smooth and mellow when he asks “what’s wrong?”, but it’s the rest that counts: tucked away into a dingy storage cupboard, your shirt hiked up and your undergarments down low, and snow taking you with enough force to have you spilling onto his dick for the second time. “you like that? being fucked by peacekeeper, huh? answer me,” and when you give him some for what it’s worth, he’ll aim for a kiss on your neck, not relenting in speed or mercy.

coriolanus snow who prides in his dexterity. on some days, he’s gentle — his fingers play with the slick gathering on your cunt, lather it down and put it somewhere deeper. on other days, he’s a bastard about it. he’ll shove his hand down your undergarments, not caring if the ball of his palm knocks against your clit cruelly, or if he’s puncturing too hard. he’s rubbing circles till there’s a painful spot forming against throbbing heat, alternating between push and insert. one, two, three fingers, much too big but if you insist that, he’ll pick up the pace. claiming he’ll “show you big.” when you come, hard and firm on his fingers, a rhythm takes place again. when you cry against his chest, beg him for a break or release or something kinder, he’ll coo at you — making light of your little beats and twitches, nudging his nose against the flesh that is warming as you tighten against his fingers yet again.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #snow x reader #tbosas x reader #hunger games x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus x y/n #coriolanus imagine

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laurfilijames · 10 months

Text

Happy Birthday, Darlin'

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 4,014

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Smoking. Mild descriptions of cuts and blood. Mentions of fighting. Unprotected intercourse. Slight asphyxiation. Some insecurities about Jax and his habits.

Summary: It's your birthday, and while Jax is pressed to make it to you in time to celebrate, he makes sure all your wishes come true.

A/N: Happy Birthday to ME 🥳 yes, I'm that bitch who wrote herself a birthday fic because I can. I've been dying to write for Jax for so long and thought this would be a fun way to get a feel for writing his character. If my writing wasn't self-indulgent before, it definitely is now.

This takes place after Season 2 Ep 12 The Culling where the Sons fight The League/Zobelle's guys because I just found Jax to be wildly sexy in that scene (but also when isn't he?)

---

The night air was cool on his face as he ripped as quickly as he could down the quiet, country roads back into town, easily shifting into fourth gear knowing every cop in Charming would be responding to where he just fled from and not having to worry about being pulled over for his excessive speed.

Jax knew he was pushing it for time - your birthday over in just less than two hours - so with a reminder of his bruised and bloodied knuckles, he twisted the throttle and opened up his Harley even more in order to get to you faster.

With a smile on his face at knowing your neighbours already complained about his presence on your street, he let open again on the straight section of road about half a mile from your house, hoping you and everyone else would now be fully aware of his arrival.

The fight with Zobelle’s gang already had him fired up, but not nearly as much as getting to see you did, and as he pulled into your driveway, his buzzing fury changed into a different kind of energy entirely.

Taking one last haul on the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he blew out the smoke and tossed it onto the asphalt, stepping on it with a twist of his dusty shoe as he unbuckled his helmet.

Jax glanced up to see the dim, warm light of a lamp in your living room, smiling to himself again that you were still awake and no doubt waiting for him as he took his backpack off his shoulders and unzipped the main compartment.

Relieved the box didn't get smushed, he pulled out the still perfectly preserved cupcake and dug in his pocket for the single candle he stuck in there earlier, bringing his lighter out with it along with another cigarette.

He placed the fresh smoke between his lips, not paying any attention to the cut stinging on his lip where it rested, focusing on sticking the candle in the center of the cupcake and lighting it. With the pink candle set ablaze, he brought his lighter to the end of the cigarette and inhaled as it burned the paper, shoving the Zippo back in the inside pocket of his cut before carefully making his way up the steps to your front door with his free hand blocking any wind made by walking from blowing out the tiny flame.

He grunted quietly to himself when he knocked on the door, his hand more sore than he thought it was after punching Weston's face in so many times, muttering to himself when he realized he was getting blood on the side of the cupcake from a split on his other hand.

"Ahh, shit," he sighed, knowing he didn't have enough time to try to clean anything up when he heard your footsteps coming to answer. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and quickly forced the smoke out with a deep blow, waving his hand so it wouldn't be in your face when you opened the door.

An automatic smile formed on his lips as soon as he laid eyes on you, leaning against the doorway in nothing but your panties and his white reaper crew t-shirt that he left the last time he was over, his voice hoarse as he started singing.

"Happy birthday to you," he began, taking a step through the entrance. "Happy birthday to you," he continued, getting right close to you until your faces were inches from each other, his eyes flickering over your shy, but happy features as his gesture made you flush all over.

"Happy birthday, darlin'. Make a wish."

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, looking from his intensely blue eyes down to the candle in front of you, and blew it out.

"What'd you wish for?"

"I'm not supposed to tell, Jax."

He smirked, leaning even closer to you so his lips were hovering over yours, "Then I'll have to guess."

His kiss tasted like smoke, but you didn't care, craving the nicotine that transferred from his mouth to yours like you were addicted to the habit itself, deepening the kiss by arching into him as if you were never able to get enough.

Jax walked forward, guiding you further into your house, the sound of the door closing lost on both of you as he kicked it shut behind him and eventually broke your kiss.

"I didn't think I was going to get to see you today," you whispered, your lids heavy with lust when you looked up at him.

"Yeah, well, I skipped out early to come give my girl her gift." He held up the cupcake and let you take it from his hand, watching your expression change to confusion as you noticed the blood stained on the side of it.

"Is that your blood?"

"50/50 chance," he laughed, swiping his finger through the icing before licking it clean.

“Should I even ask?”

“Probably not.”

You began taking in the deepening colours of purple and red on his cheek, the cut on his lip and the ones that flawed his hands, the concern you felt taking away from the joy in having him there.

“Is this why you're late?” you questioned, your fingertips ghosting over his cheek and down to his lip.

“So you were expecting me, then," he winked, his smugness always managing to outshine anything else, forcing you to roll your eyes at him.

He kissed you again, plucking the cupcake out of your hand and placing it blindly over on the hall table where you kept your keys and purse, his hands reaching up to cradle your face.

"I should report you for theft, you know," he warned, pausing to take a breath, nodding down at his shirt that hung loosely on your body.

"I think of it more as safe keeping until the owner comes back to claim it," you challenged, your eyebrows raising to show your displeasure in it being too many days that had turned into weeks since he was last here.

"Hey, at least I didn't miss your birthday," he objected, trying his best to defend himself, his head tilted while his eyebrows rose to crease his forehead.

You backed away from him, turning to walk through to the kitchen, looking back over your shoulder.

"And how many other birthday's did you celebrate in the meantime?"

"Oh, come on," he laughed frustratedly, your accusation making him look up at the ceiling. "You know it isn't like that."

You nodded slowly in silent agreement, trying not to let your insecurities and jealousies get the better of you.

He sighed loudly, waiting for a moment before following you, his voice raising slightly to make sure you heard from down the hallway.

"You're the only one I always come back to. The one I want to be inside every night."

Hearing his footsteps coming toward you, you closed your eyes and breathed out, terrified of the hurt he could cause but realizing you were being hurt every time regardless.

His voice was near and softer now that he was in the kitchen with you, making your heart pound faster in your chest even though he seemed so calm.

"You gotta stop pushing me away."

It was safer that way; always keeping him at an arm's length, never wanting to get your heart involved when you knew what he was like and how many beds he ended up in. Jax Teller could have any woman he wanted; more charm in him than all of Charming, a simple crooked grin or nod as he strutted past enough to seal the deal, and not one person could say he wasn't successful in his endeavors.

Despite it all, you wanted him, but kept it casual enough to get a taste of what you needed, having said to both yourself and him on more than one occasion over the years that nothing more would ever happen as long as his habits remained the same, and you weren't about to ask a man like him to change.

He came up to you, his hands holding your waist, his lips peppering across your shoulder and dangerously close to your neck. You closed your eyes again and sighed, relishing in the sensation while praying he didn't do the one thing you always told him not to.

But Jax always did whatever the fuck he wanted.

He kissed up along your neck, making you moan and breathe deeper, trying to keep some sort of resolve.

"Jax, you know my rule," you pleaded, feeling your entire body ignite to his lawlessness.

"Remind me what that is again?" he lied, continuing to kiss and suck your neck, knowing damn well what it was.

You shivered, feeling yourself slipping away and quickly becoming willing to do anything he asked or all the things you really wanted to do; the way he kissed your neck was your kryptonite and weakness and the one thing you always prevented in order to save yourself, fearing you would reveal exactly how you felt about him anytime he lingered there.

"Jax…"

He stopped, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him, his eyes dancing back and forth with yours as he looked at you seriously.

“I'm done playing. I want this," he said pointedly, speaking with surety.

You let go of the breath you were holding, still questioning whether to trust him regardless of how convincing he was right now.

Taking hold of your cheeks again, he smoothed his thumbs back and forth across them, an honesty and pleading present in those clear blues that made you lose yourself every time.

Before you could argue or plead your case, he crashed against you, inhaling deeply like he was trying to suck all the air out of your lungs, his tongue probing deep into your mouth to tangle with yours.

There was no sense in trying to hold back now, done with pretending for as many years as you had, the whine that passed from your mouth to his signaling your surrender.

The metallic taste of blood mixed with tobacco teased your tastebuds with each kiss, increasing your hunger to taste more of him while your body displayed those needs and your hands roamed frantically under his hoodie and the waist of his low-sitting jeans.

The leather of his cut was soft on your fingertips as you ran them along the open panels, feeling Jax’s eagerness increase in his kiss when you peeled it down his arms and placed it carefully on the kitchen chair beside you without looking. He shrugged off his hoodie and white t-shirt while you busied yourself with unfastening his belt and jeans, letting the weight of his knife pull them to the floor without assistance, leaving him standing in his boxers with a cheeky grin on his face.

“You seem pretty happy unwrapping your present.”

“Is this all I get?” you teased, matching his smile and giggling when he picked you up and put you over his shoulder, giving your bum a harsh smack as he started making his way down to your bedroom.

"Come on, birthday girl, let's go make those wishes come true."

A seriousness took over again once you were in your room, what remained of the playfulness exchanged just a minute ago in the kitchen leaving the moment your feet touched the hardwood floor, Jax peering down at you with a look you hadn't seen before.

You'd be lying if you told yourself you weren't absolutely terrified, scared of letting yourself fall even further for him, but the way his expression had softened and his eyes held what you knew had to be love for you in them, you were ready to give in.

“I mean it,” he muttered, one of his hands reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear where you leaned into his touch.

You crashed against him, kissing him hard, the need to have him more fierce than ever and only fueled more by him meeting your enthusiasm equally.

Jax tore his shirt from your body, only pausing in kissing you for long enough to get your head through it, stepping closer to you so your bodies were pressed together, feeling his hard cock nudging against your thighs and then between your legs through his boxers.

More desperate for him now than you thought you had ever been, you tugged his loose-fitting shorts down roughly, your mouth watering as his dick sprung free and bounced temptingly before you took hold of it and began rubbing the silky, veiny skin, his approval of your touch sounding as a low growl from deep in his chest.

"Fuck," he hissed, his mouth close to your ear as he leaned in against you, his hips moving into your strokes.

Finding his focus, he let his fingers hook in your thong to pull it down over your hips, his head angling to meet your mouth with his again as he slipped his fingers in your folds to spread your slick, both of you pressing your mouths against each other's harder as ecstasy quickly took over.

This was normally the time where one of you would frantically reach for a condom, barely keeping it together in time to get it on him as the temptation to go without almost always won, and today it seemed it would. You had always trusted that he wrapped up whenever he was with anyone, and although you were on birth control you were happy not to take any risks, but today was different. You wanted him, and all of him.

Jax walked forward until the back of your legs met your bed, and forcing you to sit, he crawled in over you, his blond hair hanging in your face as you spread out beneath him and he settled between your open legs.

He gave you a once over before meeting your eyes, admiring your perfect form spread and ready for him to ruin, his cheeks flinching as he clenched his jaw while he waited for you to give him the go-ahead.

Your consent was silent as you lifted your head up to capture his lips with yours, his sun-bleached beard scratching over your chin, lifting your hips at the same time so you rubbed yourself over his leaking head.

Jax wasted no more time, driving into you deeply in one push, pausing when he bottomed out to flex his cock inside you. You moaned into him, your hands clawing over the tattoo covering his back, unable to believe how good it felt to have him bare inside you.

Immediately choosing a rhythm that was both slow and hard at the same time, he thrusted in and out and ground against you with perfect precision, sending you close to the edge faster than ever before.

"You feel so fucking good!" he growled, his mouth parting from yours and leaving a string of wet between them, moving his lubricated lips over to your neck where you whined loudly and rocked more into his movements.

"Fuck, Jax!" you cried, knowing you were leaving ten red trails across his pale skin, but feeling the need to claim him as yours.

He was doing the same, sucking at your neck to leave darkened blemishes behind, his tongue alternating where his teeth came out to nip harshly at the tender skin to soothe each bite, his tempo growing erratic as he lost himself in your dripping cunt.

You seemed to only get wetter the more he kissed your neck and fucked you deeply, hitting that sweet spot with his head with each blow, the way you squeezed his girth tightly as he dragged in and out of you making him want to blow it already.

He forced himself to pause, needing to compose himself so he could keep fucking you for as long as he could, not wanting this to be over any time soon. Your whining increased, making him unsure if it was because he was sitting idly inside you or that he was persistent in continuing to kiss your neck all over to the point you had goosebumps littering your skin and you writhing desperately under him. It made him smile, knowing he had such an effect on you, smug in his ability to have you past the point of control and that you were seconds away from admitting something you tried so hard to deny for so long.

If Jax was anybody but the asshole he was he would've said it long ago, but selfishly he wanted to hear it spill from your gorgeous lips first, and he didn't ever go down without a fight.

"Roll over," he demanded, pulling out of you and forcefully grabbing at your leg to help flip you onto your stomach, hooking your knee up to bend at a high angle.

You took your hair in your hand and draped it over one shoulder, exposing the side of it for him to do with what he wanted, making him smirk more that you clearly wanted him there despite what you always said.

The hand that wasn't supporting him on the mattress gripped your cheek and spread you apart, driving his dick in you again torturously slowly, watching your face contort as he stretched you open. Your hands tore at the sheets as you backed yourself into him to push him in further, meeting his hips in slow, rolling motions, that tingling sensation of your building climax quickly returning.

Sex with Jax was always mind-blowing and the best you ever had, but tonight it felt so much better, so much more powerful, and you knew you could never have it any other way again.

He leaned over you to gently kiss your neck, more carefully than before, his efforts in wrecking you focused in his movements even though the feel of his lips on your sensitive skin had you shivering and threatening to come undone just as much.

The scent of your skin was like a drug to him as he breathed deeply, his nose ghosting at your nape and in your hair, dragging him right along with you to a point he would never recover from.

Wrapping a hand around to wedge between you and the bed, he found your clit, rubbing precise circles with his fingertips in the way he always knew made you scream, the thought of feeling you cum on his bare dick making him feel more feral than he ever had.

"Jax, I'm so close- Fuck!" you cried, your breathing growing ragged, your limbs moving recklessly to try to gain momentum on your climax that sat waiting just on the edge, seeking to keep up with his ruthless pounding.

He slowed his pace, adjusting to a speed he knew would have you at his mercy, his fingers pressing onto your swollen bud harder but in more languid strokes. His nose brushed along your neck, his breath fanning out over your dewy skin before he started kissing you again, the way your body tensed beneath him telling him he had you right where he wanted you.

"God, Jax, I love you," you admitted, feeling freed and unashamed in saying what you had feared to the most, your body relaxing into your words and finding the release it sought.

Jax hammered into you, pounding you through your high, his grunts mixing with your shouts of pleasure as you quaked and strangled him tightly.

Giving you no time to recover, he sat back on his heels and lifted you up with him, his cock momentarily slipping from you as you positioned yourself over his lap, allowing him a glimpse of your milky cum that coated it and sent him into a frenzy.

He speared back into you, your pussy sensitive and still tingling from your orgasm, his hand holding you back against his chest and pinching one of your nipples between his fingers to keep you as stimulated as possible.

Reaching up to turn your face to the side so he could kiss you, he rutted up into you brutally, feeling your pussy stretch out over him with each pump, your wetness dripping out to soak his golden pubes.

His kisses turned sloppy, nearing his end, his hand slipping down to hold your throat where he could easily control the amount of air allowed to pass through your windpipe, the knowledge of knowing you trusted him enough to let him do it lighting him up with an intense buzzing.

Before he could give in to that temptation, he let one hand return to your tits that bounced with his thrusts, the other replacing his lips on yours as he pulled your bottom lip down with his thumb and shoved two of his fingers inside. You sucked on them appreciatively, wetting them with your spit thoroughly as he triggered your gag reflex and pinched one of your peaked nipples at the same time, making you moan and clench hard on his dick. Removing them from the heat of your mouth, he trailed them between your breasts and straight down your stomach, landing on your clit where he spread your spit generously and worked to make you cum again.

You ground on him quickly, the increase in your movements sending you through to another climax, the sound of him grunting and panting in your ear as he began to cum encouraging you, but not as much as knowing he was about to fill you up.

He drove up into you harder, his teeth scraping along your neck and up to your cheek where he growled in your ear roughly, "I love you, too, babe."

You came together, feeling his hot spend coat your insides and start to leak out of you as he didn't let up on fucking you, wrecking you harder than he ever had before.

Your body felt weak and charged all at the same time, like you were melting into him but somehow needing more, and sliding off his dick with a quiet moan at the loss of him, you turned around to face him, sitting in his lap where you wrapped your arms and legs around him and held him close, continuing to kiss him with a necessity that was greater than breathing.

Holding your head in his hands, Jax met you with equal fervor, his chest rising and falling sharply against yours as he worked to catch his breath, and slowly guided you to lay down in the sheets with him.

Your legs tangled together, your arms holding and caressing each other with a surety you had never known before, relishing in the after effects of a level of bliss you were positive up until now you were never going to experience.

Slowing your kisses until they stopped, Jax looked at you warmly and flashed you a lazy smile, and you couldn't help but trace your fingertips over the creases beside his mouth and then up to run through his tousled hair.

You felt a slight pang in your chest in knowing he would probably leave soon, needing to see to some duties for the club, always having to run off shortly after his time with you to go deal with something that his loyalties couldn't ignore.

"I don't want today to end," you whispered, not ready to call it quits on your birthday just yet, and especially not ready to let him out of your bed after confessing something so huge.

Jax shifted onto his back, stretching out with a groan to reach for your alarm clock on your nightstand to check the time; 11:51 pm. Following the cord from the back of it into the wall behind the table, he pulled the plug out, watching the screen turn blank before rolling back over to you, his knee wedging between your legs as he settled his weight on top of you.

“Your birthday isn't over yet, darlin', and I'm not going anywhere.”

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @blairsanne @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered

I went ahead and tagged everyone I have written down for my Charlie/Will Miller taglist so my apologies if you're not interested in being tagged in Jax fics and I will happily add or remove anyone as they wish!

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller smut #jax teller x female reader #jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller fic #charlie hunnam

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holdmytesseract · 1 year

Note

If you are seeking soon to be dad Daryl, what about a fic where Y/n gets pregnant but she's scared to tell Daryl because what happened to Lori? Maybe she is finally able to tell him when they get reunited after the prison falls and by then she's already showing? Idk I know it says requests are closed but I saw your post!

Blessing in Disguise

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: After discovering that you are pregnant, you don't know what to do; being utterly afraid after what happened to Lori. You don't even have the chance to tell it your boyfriend, Daryl, because after the prison fell, you and Daryl get separated. Can you find him again and finally be brave enough to tell him?

Warnings: the usual TWD stuff, walkers, weapons, angst, mentions of birth and pregnancy, fluff!

Set in Season 4/5!

Word Count: 4,6k (Whopsies...)

a/n: I promised y'all a new Daryl fic and here it is! ☺️ Thank you for this wonderful request @starfirette ! ☺️ I loved, loved, loved to write this! 🥰 I hope you like it. ☺️ I changed the timeline a little bit - and I uh, may have ignored the existence of Mika and Lizzie, because I somehow struggled a lot to write them. I hope that's okay. 🙈

Tagging: @in-this-minute @thefemininemystiquee @hotgirlsshareaccounts @azanoni @lokisgoodgirl @goobysgoobers @fuseburner @fictive-sl0th @alexreadz07 @sweetpeapod

Masterlist

Biting your lip nervously, you watched your friend from afar, loading stuff in a car. He was alone, so your only opportunity to ask was probably now - or never. Taking a deep breath, you bit the bullet and walked over to him. "Hey, uh, Glenn?" The black-haired man turned to face you. "Oh, hey Y/N. What's up?" He asked you, smiling. "Can... Can you please get me something from the drugstore you're going to?" "Sure thing, no problem. What is it?" You bit your lip again; shaky fingers handed over a small piece of paper. Glenn took it and slowly unfolded it. His gaze scanned the written words, eyes widening. "Y-Y/N this... This is-" "I know, Glenn, I know. Please, keep this to yourself, okay?" "Of course, but... You know that everyone says I'm bad at keeping secrets?" You sighed, rubbing the heels of your hands in your eyes. "Yes, but you're my best friend. I trust you." The Korean nodded, "You got a point there..." and stuffed the note inside his jeans pocket. "Don't forget it, please." "I won't, promise."

You spent the time walking from one place to the next. Your mind was restless, and so was your body. A billion 'What if...' questions were running through your head on lighting speed. It felt like your skull was going to burst any second. The wait for Glenn to return was almost unbearable. "Y/N? You alright?" Maggie's voice cut through the loud noises in your head. Blinking, you stopped in your motions; looking up to face her. "Y-Yeah, of course." The woman looked at you quite a bit sceptically. "Are you sure? You seem really... uneasy and nervous. Something wrong between you and Daryl?" You quickly shook your head at your friend's words. "No, no! Everything's perfectly fine! We're good. I'm good!" Maggie eyed you a second time doubtfully, "Alright." before she turned around to leave again. You breathed out relieved, closing your eyes. Gods... That was hell.

About two hours later, Glenn and a few Woodbury people came back from the run. Subtly, your best friend handed you the small bag. "You got it?" He nodded. "Yeah. Brought three different brands." You stared at the bag, taking it into your hands. "Thank you." "Of course." You gave Glenn a small smile, which he returned. "You can talk to me about... You know. I-I'm always here for you." "I know - and I appreciate it so much." Before the Korean could even answer, you had pulled him into a big hug.

Now you sat in the cell you shared with Daryl - who was on a hunt at the moment, on the bed, staring at the bag in your hands. You had to do it. You just had to. You needed to know. So, you grabbed all three packages and sneaked into the prison 'bathroom'. Taking the tests were easy. Waiting five minutes for them to show a result was excruciating. Once again you found yourself walking up and down the room, hoping for once time would pass faster. At some point you couldn't take it anymore. You had to look; waited clearly long enough. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, you stepped over to one of the sinks - where you had placed all three tests, and taking a look at them. The first one. Positive. The second test. Positive. And the third result. Positive. "Fuck..." You were pregnant – without a doubt.

Shock wasn't the right word to describe your emotions right now. It wasn't really a shock, since you had the assumption; showing the typical signs for over a week now. Fear and panic were better words. In another world, you would've been happy. Having a baby with the man you loved was everything you ever wanted. Daryl was that man. The rotten, destroyed and dangerous world was a big problem, sure. Not just the walkers were a big threat. The disease, which roamed the prison had been a problem, but also other people out there. People like the Governor, for example. But now that you had the prison back and successfully defended your home against that psychopath, you weren't that concerned about the circumstances and surroundings. The prison was safe. What was a bigger problem and the cause for your main fear and panic, was what had happened only a few months ago... Judith's birth, and Lori's death. She died, birthing a child - and that was what gave you the chills. What if the same fate befell you? What if you were going to die as well, bringing yours and Daryl's baby into this world? Like Lori already once said… This wasn't a hospital. Sure, you had medical supplies - but not enough for a c-section or worse. If there would be complications, you were sure going to die - and you didn't want that. Despite that, it was already kinda hard enough to provide for one baby, but two? You didn't know. You really didn't know. What were you going to do now?

Driven by the panic coursing through your system, you went on search for Glenn. You needed to talk - and your best friend was your safe haven right now. Telling Daryl wasn't an option. Not just because he wasn't here at the moment anyway - which had left you worried sick enough, but also because you just were too afraid. You didn't want to do this to him. If you were really going to die during childbirth, you would put even more weight on his shoulders. He already had to carry enough.

"Glenn?!" You shouted up the guard tower, knowing that he was on watch at the moment. Seconds later, the door sprung open and his head appeared. "Y/N?" He shouted back. "Can... Can I come up?" You choked out; the tears on the brink of falling. "Uh, sure!" Quickly, you made your way up the stairs and through the doors. "T-Thanks." "Sure thing. Did you take the- You did." Glenn said, turning to face you and noticing the tears in your eyes immediately. "Is it... positive?" You nodded. Glenn's eyes widened. "You are... pregnant?" Once again you nodded; having lost the ability to form words. Without another sentence, Glenn bridged the distance between you and him and hugged you close. A big hug - exactly what you needed right now.

The two of you just stood there for a while, embracing each other. The only thing which could be heard, were your quiet sobs of desperation.

"W-What am I doing now, Glenn?" He pulled back from the hug, looking at you a bit confused. "What, uh, do you mean?" You blinked, staring at your best friend. Was he serious right now? He didn't get it? "Glenn, I... I can't have that baby!" And again the black-haired man's eyes widened. "Wait, what? You want to...?" Shrugging your shoulders, more tears started to fall. "N-No, but... I'm afraid of being pregnant; of birthing that baby. You know what happened to Lori! What if this happens to me, too!" Glenn immediately shook his head. "It won't, Y/N. Judith's birth went wrong, because Hershel wasn't with her. Lori was at the wrong place on the wrong time, unfortunately. It won't happen to you." You scoffed, not seeing this as easy as him. "That may be true, but what if Hershel can't be with me as well, huh? For any reason? And nevertheless, this ain't a hospital... It's a goddamn prison." The Korean sighed, tried to reassure you further, but it was no use. "I'm going to take you to Hershel now." He said, grabbing gently your arm and pulling you with him. "W-Why?" "Because maybe he can reassure you; and especially prevent you from having a panic attack." You said nothing; knew that he was actually right, so you didn't protest.

Passing by a lot of familiar faces on the way - due to the people from Woodbury your group had taken in in the prison, Glenn brought you to the small infirmary, where he was surely working.

"Hershel?" Glenn called out, trespassing the big doors with you. "I'm here." You heard the elder man call out, before he stepped out of one of the cells turned hospital rooms. "Glenn, what can I- Oh, hello Y/N." Neither of you said a thing, causing Hershel to look confused at the both of you and get closer. "Is everything alright?" Glenn turned to face you, squeezing your shoulder gently. "I'll leave you to it." With those words and a smile, he disappeared through the doors again, leaving you alone with Hershel. "Are you not feeling well, dear?" "Y-Yes." What were you saying? "N-No, I-" Even more overwhelmed now, you took a deep breath, trying to get yourself together. Hershel could see how you struggled; that you were rattled and of course, that something was bothering you. "Come, Y/N, let's sit down." The older man gave you a soft smile and gestured for you to follow him. He guided you into an empty room, in which he told you to sit on the small bed. "I'll be right back." You nodded, still too shaken up to form words.

A few minutes later, Hershel came back with a water bottle, handing it over to you. "Drink." You nodded once again, twisted the cap open and took a few big sips. "Good. Now take a few deep breaths and tell me what's wrong - if you feel up to it." You did what Hershel instructed you to do; took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You needed that. You didn't know it, but you needed that. "Thank you." The man nodded at you, giving you another small smile. "O-Okay, so... Um, I... I wasn't feeling that well for the last few days. Always tired, no matter how much I slept. Sometimes, I had a bit nausea and mood swings... A-And I had to pee more often." You paused for a moment, fiddling nervously with your hands. A look into Hershel's face told you that he already knew what you were trying to say. After all, he was a doctor, but he didn't interrupt you; let you speak on. "W-Well, I counted one and one together and... Glenn brought me three tests. I just took them and..." "They're positive?" You nodded, clenching your jaw in order to suppress the upcoming tears. "W-What do I do now, Hershel?" The older man reached his hand over to gently place it on yours. "Be happy about it. This is a gift. A wonder." You scoffed, controlled by your fear once again. "It wasn't a gift for Lori, was it?" Hershel sighed, knowing exactly what you meant. "What happened to Lori was an accident. It was the wrong place and the wrong situation." "That may be true, but what if I'm going to die, too? What if this baby decides to come in the wrong place and the wrong situation as well?" "That won't happen." "Why are you so sure of that? This just isn't a world to have children anymore." It was a back and forth and throwing arguments - until Hershel shook his head and gave your hand a squeeze. "Now listen to me, Y/N. I know very well that this must be not easy for you. I can understand; given what happened to Lori. But Lori had Carl through a c-section, so the chances were pretty high she needed to have Judith with a c-section as well. You on the other hand have very good chances for a natural birth." He said calmly, pausing for a moment to let his words sink in. "Despite, you are such a strong woman. You've got Daryl by your side. You've got all of us by your side. A safe place with the prison..." He gave you a smile. "We're going to make this."

Hershel's words managed to calm you down a bit and take away some of your anxiety - quite to your surprise. "Y-You think?" "Yes." You nodded and stayed quiet for a moment, before the next thought hit you. "B-But what if Daryl doesn't want this?" A low, hearty chuckle rumbled through the elder man's chest, causing you to look at him confused. "Y/N... That man would do anything for you and that baby. You know just like me how adamant he was to keep Judith alive and healthy. He was the first one who reacted, went immediately out on a run to get her formula. Daryl would never reject that baby, trust me. He is going to be a great father." He squeezed your hand again, giving you another smile, which you couldn't help but return. "Now let's get you checked up and make sure to start on the prenatal vitamins."

And for a short moment, everything was perfectly fine. Sure, you still had your doubts and fears, but the voices in your heads became quieter, due to Hershel. Unfortunately, your happy phase didn't last even three days. Suddenly everything turned sour, when Hershel and Michonne vanished, the Governor returned to take the prison by brutal force with the two missing people in tow as hostages, murdering Hershel in front of yours and everyone's eyes – and the fall of the prison in the end. It happened so fast. Within minutes, everything was heading south with walkers flooding the place and a war breaking loose. Suddenly everybody around you was crying and yelling, while you just tried to hold on to Daryl - but it was no use... In the end, you lost him, got separated from him and ended up with Tyreese, who had saved baby Judith - and who absolutely wasn't bad at all, but Tyreese wasn't Daryl. The prison was destroyed, your family split up, not knowing who survived and who didn't. Your boyfriend and still unbeknownst to him, father of your child was probably dead and you had absolutely nothing left. Within a blink of an eye, you had a mess on your hands.

"We have to go back!" You shouted after Tyreese, as he walked on through the woods, further away from the prison. "We have to go back and look for him!" Your friend gave you no answer, just continued to walk on. With a cocktail of anger, hurt, frustration and sadness coursing through your veins, you quickly caught up to him. "Tyreese!" He stopped suddenly abruptly in his tracks. "We can't, Y/N! We can't! Don't you see? Our home is destroyed, overrun with walkers! Going back there would be suicide!" "I don't care! I have to find him!" Tyreese sighed, bouncing Judith in his arms to keep her asleep and quiet. "I know this is hard for you and I am truly so, so sorry, but we have to look after Judith now. Make sure she survives." A part of you knew that the man was more than right, but your heart just couldn't accept this. You had to made sure that the man you loved was alright. So the emotions inside you exploded, causing you to reveal your 'secret' to your friend. "And I have to make sure that the father of my baby is alive!" Your eyes widened immediately after the words had left your lips, realisation dawning on you. Tyreese's eyes widened as well; his jaw dropping. "You... You are pregnant?" You nodded; tears threatening to fall. "Please, Tyreese, please..." Your voice was quieter and softer now, on the verge of begging. The man sighed once again, before placing a free hand on your upper arm, squeezing reassuringly. "No. It's too late." You wanted to speak up again, but Tyreese was quick to cut you off. "It won't change a thing if we are going back there." "Fine. Then I'm going alone." You wanted to turn on your heels and go, but Tyreese stopped you; grabbed your arm gently. "I can't and won't let you, Y/N. You are pregnant! I'd never forgive myself if something would happen to you. We stay together. Maybe we find Daryl somewhere around here. He is a survivor, you know that." Those words seemed to finally do the trick and convince you to not go back. Instead, you fell into Tyreese's arm, hugging his side and crying against his shoulder.

"Y/N!" Daryl looked around frantically, scanning his surroundings, while taking out several walkers on his way. "Y/N!" He couldn't see you. He just couldn't see you. "Y/N!" The tank, standing in the yard distracted his search for a moment, as he made sure to push a grenade down the gun, causing the man inside to jump out, before the tank exploded. Daryl was quick in driving an arrow through the enemy's chest; looking once again around. "Y/N!" The archer was on the edge of despair, so afraid to lose you. He had held your hand so tight and nevertheless, you were just suddenly gone, vanished into thin air, just because he had to use the hand which was clasping yours to kill an approaching walker. It was a mistake. He should've never let you go and rather just waste an arrow. Feeling the tears coming up in his eyes and witnessing more walkers storming the destroyed home they had built up, he screamed out your name from the top of his lungs for one last time. No response. No you. "Fuck!" He cursed, throwing his weapons to the ground and rubbing the heels of his hands in his eyes - until a familiar voice spoke up behind him.

"Daryl!" The archer spun around. His gaze landed on a young woman with blonde hair. Beth. "I was trying to find the kinds to get them on the bus." Daryl shook his head. "I lost Y/N. I can't find 'er. I can't find 'er." Beth looked at him compassionately, taking his hand. "I'm so sorry, Daryl." The man was quiet for a moment, until he ripped his hand loose from the teenager's soft grip. "You gotta Beth, you gotta go. Get yourself to safety." The young woman's eyes widened. "No! I-I... What about you?" "I can't leave. I need ta find Y/N. I can't lose her." Beth frantically shook her head. "You can't, Daryl. If you stay, you're going to get yourself killed! There are too many walkers!" "Don care. Gotta find 'er." He wanted to walk past Beth, but she held him back with a hand pressed against his chest. "No! Y/N wasn't inside the prison. I didn't see her. You couldn't find her outside. What if she was inside the bus, or left already with someone else?" Daryl's eyes flickered, the gears in his head turning. "Please... If you go in there now and get yourself killed, Y/N is the one who is going to suffer. You don't want that, do you?" Daryl swallowed, shaking his head. "No." "See? Now come on. We have to go. We'll look for her, I promise!" He nodded and followed Beth, still not sure if this was the right decision.

Time passed. Day after day went by. While you, Tyreese and Judith found Carol on your way, Daryl lost Beth to god knows who and found Rick, Carl and Michonne somewhere on the way. They weren't you, but he was relieved to see that other members of his family had survived. Unfortunately, they didn't know what happened to you as well, leaving the archer still in the dark. It was torturous. But so it was for you.

At some point, you lost track of time, couldn't tell if the weeks had already turned to months or not. What you knew was, that the baby living inside you, must be there already for at least three months, since you lately started to show, having a small baby bump now. Carol quickly counted one and one together as well, making sure together with Tyreese that you were safe and protected.

Well... And then Terminus happened. While Daryl tried to stay alive with the others, Carol went on a rescue mission. You wanted to accompany her at all costs, but of course she didn't let you. She didn't want to risk your life and with that the baby's life as well. So, you stayed behind in that little hut with Tyreese and Judith, making sure that this strange man you took hostage didn't escape. Let's put it this way... Not every part of it went according to plan, but in the end everything turned out to be fine. More than fine, actually...

"I'm not digging around with this crap. We just made it out." "The fences are down. They'll run or die." Daryl listened in silence to the group and Rick's arguing, biting his lower lip - until he heard the leaves of the forest ground crunch, alerting him that someone - or most likely rather something must be there. He was right. But it wasn't something. It was someone. Carol. Daryl couldn't believe his eyes, seeing his best friend standing there, only a few feet away. He didn't think he would ever see her again. Not after she had been banished by Rick. But there she was. Daryl didn't hesitate, ran over to her and pulled her into a big hug. That attracted the others attention as well. Everyone was exhausted to the core, but undeniably happy to see Carol. Rick as well. He approached the two friends. "Did you do that?" Carol nodded meekly, on the verge of tears. Rick went immediately to hug her, wrapping both his arms tightly around his friend. "Thank you." The grey-haired woman retreated from the hug, smiling softly. "You have to come with me."

That was exactly what they all did. They followed Carol to the little hut… "They're back! Y/N they're back!" Tyreese exclaimed, watching their family approach the hut through one of the windows. "Really?!" You literally jumped up from where you sat on the ground beside Judith's makeshift crib. "Yes!" "Daryl! Can you see Daryl?!" Tyreese turned to face you, smiling. "Look for yourself." You sprinted to the window, seeing familiar and also a few unfamiliar faces. Among them, was Daryl. Seeing him kickstarted your heart, sending waves of pure happiness through your veins. "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh," you splattered out, before moving over to run out of the hut. "Daryl! Daryl!" The archer's eyes shot up, landing directly on you. For the second time within minutes, he couldn't believe his eyes. He had already lost hope, thinking he was never ever going to see you again. "Y/N..." He breathed out, letting his crossbow fall to the ground and running towards you, meeting you halfway in a hug. You literally jumped into his arms, wrapping both your arms and legs around him. "Daryl..." You sobbed, burying your face in his neck. "Y/N..." You could tell that Daryl was crying as well. His voice quivering and unsteady. The world around you faded. Just you and Daryl existed in that very moment. "I-I thought I lost you. I thought I was never going to see you again." You stammered, still clinging to him. "Me too. I couldn't find ya. I searched for ya, but I just couldn't find ya." "I'm here now." You whispered with a smile, peppering the skin on his neck with small kisses. "I am never going let ya out of my sight again, I promise. 'M gonna protect you better, I swear." You shook your head. "You always protect me as best as you can. This wasn't your fault. Stop blaming yourself, please. It was the Governor's fault. Nobody else's." Daryl just nodded against your shoulder, relieved that he had you back in his arms. That was everything what mattered in that moment. You held him for another while, before you untangled yourself from around your boyfriend and backed up a bit, just enough to look into his blue, greyish eyes. Though, one eye was slightly swollen and red. All in all, he looked quite battered and bruised, causing your heart to ache. Gently, you cupped his scruffy cheeks, looking at him with furrowed brows, worried. He noticed that of course, "M fine. Don worry." and started immediately to rub reassuring circles in the clothed skin of your hips with his thumbs. "You don't look fine, Daryl." The archer shook his head. "M fine, really. Jus' a black eye and a few cuts and bruises... How are you? You alright?" His question reminded you suddenly of the baby, growing in your womb. His baby. You swallowed. Now was the time to tell him, wasn't it?

"Y-Yes, I am, b-but there's something I need to tell you, I-" "We need to go." Rick's voice suddenly cut through the air, loud enough to catch both, yours and Daryl's attention. The archer looked at his brother, an arm still protectively wrapped around you. He hadn't noticed your small baby bump yet. "Yeah, but where?" He asked. "Somewhere far away from there," answered Rick, everybody shuffling around to get ready for moving along. Daryl nodded, thinking the same as Rick. "You two coming?" "Yes, just give us a minute. We'll catch up." You jumped to answer your friend, before Daryl could. You had to tell him. Now. "Alright. Just don't stay behind. We'll make sure to look out for you." You nodded, giving him a smile. "Thanks." The others went to follow Rick, leaving you and Daryl on your own - for now. The archer's gaze met yours again, fear and worry clouding his blue-grey orbs. "What is it?" Daryl asked, eyes suddenly widening. "You didn't get bit, did ya?!" You quickly shook your head. "No, no! It's not that! I didn't get bit!" He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out relieved. "Thank fuck. What is it then?" You took a deep breath. Now or never. "I-I'm pregnant." Daryl blinked, looking at you incredulously. "W-What?" You bit your lip, gently reaching for his hand and placing it on your small baby bump for him to feel. "I-I'm pregnant." An audible gasp left his lips; emotions getting stuck in his throat and tears blurring his vision. "P-Pregnant? Y-Yer pregnant?" You nodded, having to fight the tears once again as well. "Oh Y/N..." Daryl sobbed, engulfing you in another hug.

"Since when do you know?" You swallowed hard, knowing that this question would come. "A few days before the prison fell..." "W-What?" He was shocked. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I'm sorry. I-I wanted to, but I was so afraid because of what happened to Lori a-a-and I dunno... Before I could tell you, everything went south. I'm so sorry." "Damnit, Y/N... Jus' imagine what could've happen if you ended up alone out there? Ya could've died!" "But I didn't! I found Tyreese and Carol. They took care of me. They always made sure I was okay." Daryl scoffed, but took your hands into his. "Don scare the shit outta me again, woman, I swear…" You had to smile softly at his words, shaking your head, "Promise." and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him lovingly. "Let's catch up to the others. You stay close ta me. I don't want ya out of my sight, understood?" You nodded. "Yes, Sir." "Good." The archer intertwined your fingers with his, grabbed his crossbow and gently pulled you with him, in order to catch up to the others - what you did in the end. "So, you're not mad at me, that I'm, well... Pregnant?" Once again, he shook his head. "Why should I? This is wonderful, actually. Maybe not the best time, but we're gonna make this. Judith made it, too." You smiled up at him, your heart full and content with love. "I love you." "I love ya too, sunshine - and I promise I'm goin' to look after you and that kid."

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