#if not i’ll come up with another one 🤧

[zaczenemiji]

Hello Dearest Writer! I have read the Shattered Pride that you wrote which I like it! and I hope you don't mind me requesting ^^. I wanted to request for a lil' bit angsty Kenji Sato x Reader, where kenji & reader have a heated argument that leads to reader with tears streaming down her face from kenji's hurtful words and attempted to remove her engagement ring and proposed to end things for the better and kenji got scared and regret everything he said, so he asked for forgiveness, convinced her to stay and makes it up for her. Thank you so much, Writer! I hope you have a nice day!

Second to None

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 2,076

Genre/Warning: Angst, Character Development, Drama, Established Long-Term Relationship, Heartbreak, hurt/Comfort, Redemption

Author’s Note: My works are becoming longer lately 🤧 Is that a good thing or not?

MASTERLIST | Shattered Pride

The reservation; a special menu and a gift sat neatly wrapped beside your plate. Your eyes dart to the door every few minutes, eagerly yet anxiously anticipating Kenji’s arrival.

The minutes turned into an hour, each second becoming agonizingly longer than the last. Your discomfort became noticeable to those who arrived before and after you.

Some couples came in pairs. Others also waited but the arrival of their beloveds was only half as long as the duration of your waiting.

The waiter approached with a sympathetic smile. “Would you like to order now, miss?” He asked gently.

"Not yet," you replied, forcing a smile. "He should be here any minute." You smoothed down your dress, avoiding any more contact with someone who isn’t Kenji.

“Are you on your way? Our reservation was at 7,” your message long showed as delivered, but still, no reply, and all your calls went straight to voicemail.

Your heart sank as the waiter returned, his expression more apologetic than before, "Shall I bring you a drink while you wait?"

"Yes, please," you answered, trying to mask your growing disappointment. You chose a glass of your favorite wine with Kenji, hoping the familiar taste would bring some comfort.

It was your fifth anniversary together, a milestone you had been looking forward to for weeks. Yet just like last year, it seemed like this would be a missed one too.

The first years of your relationship were pure bliss. The years that followed were less exciting but more comfortable. Yet from last year til today, some things were never the same.

At first, it felt like it was just because both of you had gotten used to each other. But as time progressed, it started seeming like your relationship was just a background—a television turned on not for the sake of watching, but for the sake of not being alone.

It started with last year’s missed anniversary; he said that it was an important out-of-town game that he couldn't skip. "I'm so sorry, the game went into extra innings and I missed the last train back. I'll be home late.”

He went home the next day.

You reminisced your first anniversary, a weekend getaway, a brief escape from your busy lives. The second, you had gone to a cozy little restaurant. The third had been a quiet dinner at home.

The fourth anniversary was marked by absence and loneliness; as this year’s. It wasn't the first time Kenji's baseball career had come between you, but you had hoped that anniversaries would be different.

You started to wonder if you would always come second to his dreams.

Another hour passed and the restaurant began to empty as the night grew older. "Kenji, I'm still here. Please call me." But still, there was no response.

Finally, your phone buzzed, "I'm so sorry, practice ran late and then we had a team meeting. I’ll try to get there as soon as I can."

You stared at the message, a tear slipping down your cheek. You heard similar apologies countless times before, each one chipping away at your patience and hope.

You signaled the waiter and asked for the check. You couldn't sit there any longer and pretend that everything was fine.

You walked out into the cool night, clutching the small gift you had brought for Kenji. The streets were quiet, the city's usual buzz dulled by the lateness of the hour.

You felt a profound loneliness, one that wasn't just about this night but about the accumulation of missed moments and broken promises.

When you finally got home, the flat was dark. You placed the untouched gift on the table and changed into more comfortable clothes.

You were too drained, emotionally, to even wait for Kenji in case he’d come over. You lay down on your bed, more than willing to sleep off the pain you just can’t get used to.

As your consciousness was being tugged to sleep, your phone buzzed again. It was Kenji, calling. And for the first time, you decided to put yourself first and slept.

Morning came and you sat at the dining table, a half-empty glass of wine in front of you. It was far too early to be drinking, but the remnants of last night's disappointment and loneliness still clung to you, and you needed something to numb the ache.

You swirled the wine in your glass, your mind replaying the evening over and over. The beautifully wrapped gift lay discarded on the coffee table.

You immediately slept last night but somehow, you hoped that Kenji would walk through the door with some grand gesture, some sign that he valued your relationship as much as she did. But he never came.

The sound of the key turning in the lock pulled you from your thoughts. Kenji walked in, looking exhausted and worn. His eyes immediately found yours, and he saw the wine glass in your hand.

"You're drinking this early?" he asked, concern laced with surprise. You didn't respond, just took another sip.

The silence was heavy, filled with all the words you wanted to say but didn't know how to begin. You set the glass down and met his gaze.

"Do you even realize what day it was yesterday, Kenji?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Of course, I do. I'm so sorry. Practice ran late and then there was an unexpected team meeting. I—“

"You always have an excuse,” You cut him off, your voice rising. “Do you know how many times I've heard 'practice ran late' or 'there was a meeting’? I'm tired of it!"

"I know," he said, trying to calm you down. "I really wanted to be here, but you know how important baseball is to me."

"And what about me, Kenji? Am I not important to you?" you snapped, tears welling up in your eyes. "I've sacrificed everything for you! I left my career, my family, my friends, everything to come to Japan and support you! And for what? To be stood up on our anniversary again?"

His face tightened, "It's not like that. You knew what you were getting into when you decided to come with me."

You took a step back, your voice dropping to a whisper. "So, it's my fault now?” You asked. “I chose to support you because I believed in us. But it feels like I'm the only one making sacrifices here."

"That's not fair," he retorted, frustration creeping into his tone. "I work hard for us. I'm trying to build a future for us."

"But at what cost, Kenji?" you shot back. "Every time I need you, you're not there. Every important moment, every milestone, you're always somewhere else. Do you even understand how lonely that is?"

He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words, "I'm doing my best. It's just... baseball is my dream. I can't give that up."

"And what about my dreams?" you cried, your voice breaking. "I had a career I loved, a life I was proud of! I gave all that up for you, believing that you would be there for me, that we would support each other. But it feels like I'm the only one who gave anything up!”

He took a deep breath, his own anger rising. "I never asked you to give up your career!” He said. “You made that choice!”

Your eyes widened in shock and pain. "I made that choice because I loved you—because I thought we were building a life together,” you said, voice softening and heart breaking. “But it seems like I'm the only one who sees it that way."

There was a long silence as you two stared at each other, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between you. Slowly, you reached for your engagement ring, your hands shaking.

"What are you doing?" Kenji asked, panic creeping into his voice.

You struggled to remove the ring, tears streaming down your face. "Maybe we're fooling ourselves, Kenji,” you said in between sobs. “Maybe this isn't working. I can't keep feeling like I'm second to your career. Maybe it's better if we end this now."

His heart raced, panic surged through him, and his voice trembled with desperation. "No, please don't," he said, stepping closer, his hands reaching out but hesitating to touch you. "I'm sorry for everything I've said. I didn't mean it. I love you, and I can't lose you."

You looked at him, the ring held loosely in your hand. "Do you really love me, Kenji?” You asked. “Or do you love the idea of me being here, waiting for you, always understanding and never complaining?"

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "I love you. I know I've been an idiot, and I know I haven't been there for you like I should. But I promise I'll do better. Just please, don't leave me."

His eyes filled with tears as he dropped to his knees in front of you, the weight of his regret crashing down on him. "I love you," he said, his voice breaking. "I know I've been an idiot, and I know I haven't been there for you like I should. Every time I chose baseball over you, I was wrong. I see that now.”

“Please, don't take off that ring. Don't leave me,” he pleased. “I can't imagine my life without you."

You looked down at him, your own tears blurring your vision, “How can I believe you, Kenji?"

He reached out, taking her hands in his and holding them tightly. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you,” he said. “I'll do whatever it takes to prove to you that you're the most important thing in my life. I'll talk to my coach, I'll cut back on practice—anything. Just please, give me one more chance."

You hesitated, the pain and love warring within you. His eyes were filled with genuine fear and remorse, and you could feel his hands trembling. "One more chance, Kenji,” you said. “But things have to change. I can't keep feeling like this."

He nodded fervently, pulling you into a tight embrace, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and fear. "I promise, things will change,” he said. “I'll make it up to you, I swear. I love you more than anything. Please, believe me."

The next morning, Kenji came over early and made you breakfast, a small but heartfelt gesture to start making amends. He took the morning off practice and thought of having breakfast together.

Over the next few weeks, Kenji made noticeable changes. He began to prioritize your time together, making sure to balance his demanding baseball schedule with moments that were just for you two.

One evening, as you sat on the couch watching a movie, Kenji turned to you with a serious expression, "I talked to a few people, and I found a way for you to continue your work here in Japan.”

You looked at him, curiosity and hope in your eyes, "What do you mean?"

“There are some production companies interested in meeting with you,” he said. “I want you to have your career back, to have something that's yours."

Tears welled up in your eyes, this time from gratitude and joy. "Kenji, that's... I don't know what to say. Thank you."

He took your hand, squeezing it gently. "I want you to be happy. I want us to build our lives together, supporting each other's dreams,” he said. “I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much you were sacrificing."

True to his word, Kenji began to make your relationship a priority. He surprised you with small dates, like picnics in the park or quiet dinners at home. He even started learning a bit of Japanese cuisine to cook your favorite meals.

Kenji made it a point to never miss another important moment, attending every event and celebration that mattered to you. He cheered you on as you restarted your career, eager to see you shine.

In the end, you both learned that love required effort and compromise from both sides. It wasn't always easy, but you faced your challenges together, knowing that your love was worth fighting for. And with each passing day, you both found yourselves more deeply in love, more committed to the life you were building together.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@ppiglovestravel-blog @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora @mmeerraa @mianbaobaoo @skyeliteratures @themourningfox @despacito-uwu16 @crimson-mage-02 @vinegarjello @btszn @berryjuicyy @https-mika @reader-1290

[solbaby7]

Az is so🤤🤤 toxic men in real life repulsive me but Az does it soooo well.

Can you do a slutatious reader meets possessive Az?

Like he refuses to make it official so she continues about her life and he stay hearing rumors about her activities. He doesn’t want to be another fuck buddy but he’s also holding back from her and that pisses her off and encourages her to continue w her endeavors.

I’m talking screaming fighting throwing shit toxic🤭

i love your work mamita, I’ll read ur fics all day😩🤧

Maneater

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: toxic relationships, possessive!az, promiscuous girl, swearing, sexual themes, lemme just say thank god for this request, probably typos

—

“You’re not wearing that.”

“And who’s going to stop me?” The retort comes easily, all too familiar with this dance. You continue as if he’s not there, staring at the material that molds to your curves like second skin. The entire back is out, the sultry swoop accentuating the fullness of your ass even if the front was fairly tame. Curled hair is flicked over your shoulder, lashes flirty and lips glossy as you reach for your clutch.

A shadow beats you to it, sliding the clutch just out of your reach and a slightly agitated smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you turn to face him. “I mean it. If that’s what you’re wearing, then you aren’t going.”

A brow raises, eyes taking in the perfect structure of Azriel’s face, the strong neckline and tattoos that crept up the left side. Rippling muscles strain against the black top; a pleasant contrast from his usual leathers and you nearly forget his audacity when appreciating his physique. “You must have the wrong room, Az.” You can’t help yourself but to touch, two manicured fingers dragging down the middle of his abdomen. Nails catch on the belt holding his breeches in place and the teasing tug has his pupils dilating. “Possibly confused me with one of those simpering females with damsel in distress tendencies? The ones who actually allow the tone you’re taking with me right now. ”

“I know exactly whose room I’m in,” Unashamed possessiveness radiates from every word and the step he takes to close the distance has an annoying effect on your body. “Just like I know exactly who won’t be leaving it if you don’t walk back over to that closet and change.”

“I have no reason to listen to you,” Azriel refused to admit it out loud, but he secretly loved this part—the pushback. The flirtatious flutter of your lashes and the seductive scent lacing every inch of glistening skin. “You have no claim over me. I’m a free female,” You know exactly what you’re doing; goading him with the same implications of the relationship that you and Azriel had been dancing around for the better part of a decade. It could’ve been different, could’ve spent more time making love rather than hate fucking against any sturdy surface after the shadowsingers jealousy had gotten the best of him after hearing yet another rumor about your latest conquest. “Free to do whom and whatever I please.”

He’s too good at feigning restraint when he truly was grappling for purchase; falling victim to such feminine curves and unwavering confidence. You peered up at him without fear, heart rate steady in his presence and he just barely catches the slightest hitch of your breath when Azriel’s hand wander up the bodice of the dress. Familiar fingers brush over the thick of your thighs, up the soft curve of your belly, taking special time over supple breasts and peaked nipples. Foolishly, you lean into the touch, goosebumps beginning to dot at your spine when the fabric rips in two. “It’s adorable that you believe that.” He doesn’t acknowledge your surprised expression, hands hovering over the ruined material as if it would magically sew back together. “Don’t ever make me repeat myself again.”

“You just—“

“I will see you there—in something much more appropriate, I’m sure.”

Azriel’s gone before you can respond, a humorless laugh passing glossy lips as you shuck off the remnants of your dress. High heels stomp against hardwood floors as you make your way to the closet, ripping through shades of deep navy’s and obsidian until your sights set on a sexy little number saved for special occasions.

A sinister smirk forms as you slip into it, eyes almost sparkling as you regard yourself in the full length mirror.

The halter neckline crosses at the chest, cupping cleavage with ease as the intricate golden bustier cinches at your sides, creating the illusion of wider hips and ensures nothing less than an elegant posture when you stride inside. Soft silks and chiffon kisses at the length of your legs, grazing over painted toes in painfully high heels but it pulls the attention you were searching for. Necks craning and hungry eyes eat up every dip and curve of your figure, mouths salivating at the liquid gold that pushes up the weight of your breasts. “You’re late,” Rhysand voice murmurs in your mind, utter boredom creeping into his every feature.

Your eyes slide to Azriel when you answer, anticipation buzzing beneath the surface of your body. “Wardrobe malfunction.”

To anyone else, the shadowsinger would appear to be the embodiment of stoicism.

But you knew that hard line of his shoulders, the barely restrained tick of his jaw, the slight flexing of his fingers around the thick arms crossed over his chest. The firelight crackles around him, golden light casting perfect shadows that nearly blend seamlessly to the ones that sang to him. With each step closer to the dias, those shadows grow more agitated, wiggling restlessly at Azriel’s feet, stretching up the length of his back to whisper in his ear.

You play coy too well, nodding respectfully to the High Lord and Lady before taking your place but those shadows shove you in closer. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Azriel’s towering form, the wings held high behind him subconsciously tucking you out of view. “Appropriate enough for you?”

“You are the most stubborn female I have ever met in my entire life.”

“I wouldn’t have to be if you’d just admit it.”

He pretends not to care, masking desperate glances with hardened side eyes. The grip on his crossed arms gets tighter, barely refraining from the urge to drag you away from all the eyes greedily eating up your form as if it were a six-course meal with desserts on the side. “Admit what?”

“That you want me.”

That you love me the same way I love you.

That you don’t want it to just be a game anymore either.

Azriel doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t even look your way but the sneer that curls at the edge of his perfect mouth was enough to have your confidence faltering. “I have better things to do with my time than chase after some harlot.”

Your brows snap up, nearly blending in with the seam of your hairline. He regrets every word when the teasing spark fades from your eye. Taking a sizable step away from him, your face goes hard like steel, nose scrunching with barely concealed humiliation and your teeth bare like a wild animal when Azriel reaches out to touch. “Don’t,” Angry tears make your eyes go glassy but not once does your voice waver. “Just stay the hell away from me.”

Rhys had already dismissed the others, waving a lazy hand and music fills the space. The strong smell of food permeating the air and you’re quick to blend into the gathering crowd, making a beeline for the elegant champagne pyramid tucked on the other side of the room.

Your hands shake when you grab the first glass, taking it back more like a shot than a classy sip of the flute but you just needed your hands to stop shaking—your heart to stop racing. One drink quickly turns to three and you’re well on your way to a fourth when a hand curls around your shoulder. “Fueling up for me?” The familiar drawl of Autumn’s first born heir reaches your ear, halting your display of gluttony.

This was why you were here—in Hewn City, prancing about the Court of Nightmares. Acting as a pretty faced guide the Night Court provided as light entertainment before Eris would be escorted off to the private meeting room two halls down. You’d amuse a few dances, allow him to talk your ear off and pretend you don’t notice his fingers inching down the curve of your spine. “There’s not enough alcohol in the world to prepare me for you, Vanserra.”

His brow raises, a sly smirk growing as the lights from the iron-wrought chandeliers casted their shadows against the burnt copper of his hair. Warm eyes trail down the length of your form, a single finger twitching when taking in intricate details of your gold bodice; the rich fabric that was so dark it almost seemed blue in certain light. “Are you flirting with me?”

“No, I’m just hot and talking.”

Eris is just as bold as you remember, laughing softly under your breath at his proximity when you’ve turned around for another glass but a quick hand has swiped it from your grasp before a single drop can coat your tongue. “You’re testy tonight.” You can feel the cool caress of Az’s shadows curling around your ankle, a silent claim that has your teeth gritting against each other.

For once, you amuse the Autumn heir and his playful fire, dancing into the thick of his flame when you allow him to finish your drink and guide you to the dance floor with the others. “I double booked,” You lie easily, following his lead effortlessly as if you didn’t feel that cool wisp of a shadow steadily clamping tighter against your ankle. Low chatter blocks out the ability for others to eavesdrop but you can feel those golden eyes burning holes into the side of your face—to the bare strip of skin at your hip where Eris’ hand rested for the entire duration of the dance. “Can’t help the attitude that lingers knowing that I have to spend my night prattling about with you when I could’ve been indulging in multiple orgasms.”

A laugh that’s smooth like whiskey escapes Eris, a hint of a dimple forming on his left cheek and you hate that you notice the perfect lines of his teeth; his bottom lip that was fuller than the top, the slight bump on the bridge of his nose indicating it’d definitely been broken at least once in his life. “There’s ample time before my meeting if you’d like to have your cake and eat it too.”

“Maybe I’d agree,” You make a show out of examining him, subtly inhaling the spice of his cologne. Handsome but not Azriel. “If the ‘cake’ was a different flavor.”

Eris doesn’t falter for a second, even with the entirety of your Inner Circle’s attention fixed on him and the hands he had on your body. The deep baritone of his voice rumbles against your chest, nipples pebbling at the sensation. “Close your eyes then,” Words whisper at the lobe of your ear and the glittering jewel poked through it. “You can pretend I’m whoever you want with my tongue between your thighs.”

A witty remark crawls to the tip of your tongue, readying itself to leap off when that ghost chain around your leg pulls taut. There’s only enough time for your eyes to widen before you’re tugged away from Eris like a dog on a leash. It leads you out of the room and into the hall, refusing to loosen even a touch when you stubbornly resist but there’s no point when you’re cloaked in shadows. You barely notice the scenery change before you’re back at home and tossed over a shoulder. “You stupid, brutish, ape of a male!” Your shouts echo through the empty halls, bouncing off closed doors as Azriel strides through the foyer like he was on a mission. “Put me down right now!” Every word is coupled with the palms of your hands slapping at his thighs and digging into the back of his knees. One hand cranes back to dig into the thick of his hair and tug—hard.

Azriel’s hand is harder though, pure heat burning against the skin of your ass when it connects with a deafening clap. “Shut up.”

Your jostled back into place, cheeks warm and hands frozen where they’re bunched in the fine material of his dress shirt. “Az—“

His hand comes down once more and this time you yelp, teeth biting into the fat of your bottom lip as he clears the stairs and makes a sharp left. “I told you to shut up.”

Every bone in your body screams for you to comply, primal instincts igniting deep within advising you take the route of self-preservation but your pride overrides better judgement. “And I told you, I’m a free female. Let me go, right now!” You squirm once more, legs kicking and arms clawing for release when you’re roughly thrown off his shoulder and shoved into the wall in a motion so fluid it takes the air from your lungs.

Fuck your pride for letting her mouth write checks your ass couldn’t cash.

You’d never seen such darkness in such a vast sea of gold, the whole pupil of Azriel’s eyes blown out like a feral animal salivating at the mouth. “Do you feel like a free female right now?” He already knows the answer judging by the pleased smirk beginning to creep in the corner of his mouth at the sight of his shadows holding your hands in place.

You swallow thickly, annoyingly affected by his closeness and the hard bulge that throbs at your belly when he curls a hand around your neck, nose brushing your own. “I certainly don’t feel like I belong to you.”

“I can fix that.” It’s a promise. One you silently scold yourself for praying that it’s a promise he makes good on.

The Mother has favorites and tonight you must be one of them.

The kiss Azriel initiates is nothing short of brutal; the drag of his tongue across the seam of your lips his only kindness before gaining access and completely dominating from the inside out. Every touch is claiming; a strong hand calloused from centuries of skilled swordplay is generous when easing off the expensive gold bodice before the delicate fabric beneath is torn to shreds. Pretty strips of dark material spills to the floor, left for the house to clean as your thighs are gripped and your weight is hoisted up, legs cradling the muscular taper of Azriel’s waist.

He’s sucking marks into your neck, back pressed against the wall as his teeth graze at the sensitive skin there. Breasts spill from the confines of your bra, straps eased down your shoulders to make more room for his mouth to lay claim to. Azriel pinches at your nipples, eating up every sound like it’s offered on a platter. “Those noises sound like you belong to me.” Every nerve burns where he touches, marring your flesh and branding his mark as arousal collects in your underthings.

“Azriel,” You pant, trying to clear the fog of your brain but he’s all consuming; refusing to allow you air if it’s not the same one he breathes.

The flimsy underwear is pushed aside, familiar fingers collecting the slick gathering between your legs and a cruel smile grows on his face. “It certainly feels like you belong to me.” A thumb pressed firmly on the stiff bud of your clit, rubbing slow circles that has your toes curling. A thump sounds from where your head falls back to the ball, exposing the line of your neck and the dark purple bruises smattered along it. Your eyes close for a second, breath labored and mouth salivating from the promise of more but all that changes when his hands bunch up the elegant curl of your hair. He wraps it around like a leash, forcing you to look him in the eye and the rasp of his voice is devastating. “So why the fuck can’t you get it through your pretty head, huh?”

It’s a rhetorical question, that much you gather when he moulds his mouth to yours before you can even begin to muster up an answer. You’re boneless in his grasp, allowing him to take you to his room and share his sheets. The bedside table screeches when Azriel’s boot kicks at it, knocking over lamps and light bulbs shatter on the hardwood. He doesn’t even flinch, glass crunching under the soles of his shoes that he kicks off as he eases you down. “Az,” Insecurity threatens to rear her ugly head and ruin the moment, trying to push forth his hurtful words and the years of dancing around this feeling but Azriel’s already there to push that away. “Are you sure you even want to?”

“You belong to me,” He says and it’s final. Offering up the keys to the locked box filled with everything you’d dreamed about when you closed your eyes and wished on falling stars every year. Off goes his shirt and shortly his pants follow, dragging his underwear along with it and you can’t fight the moan when all of that bare skin is exposed and hovering above you. “Say it,” He urges, the hard length of him slotting between spread legs, grinding against warm need until you’re keening soft pleas into his chest, heels digging into his back.

The intrusion makes you gasp, hands greedy and mouth glued to his while he fucked into you like he always did. It’s a demanding pace; forcing you to take all of him while he watched you lose all your composure—all that beautiful fight that drew him to you in the first place. Az doesn’t stop, spurred on by strangled moans and choked words garbled together begging for more of him; harder, faster, deeper. Your clenching around him when the words stutter out of you in a whisper. “I belong to you.”

[whatever-lmaoo]

Sweet Life Of Mine

Summary: Life works in mysterious ways and Bucky would go through it all again if it meant he’d get to experience the rest of it with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!reader

CW: fluff, a bit of teasing, flashbacks are italicized and thoughts are in bold and italicized[2.4k]

A/N: As always the cute line dividers were made by @firefly-graphics 🌸 I’ve decided to turn this into a two-parter 🙂‍↔️ Special recognition to @buckys-wintersoldier without her encouragement I probably would’ve trashed this fic early on in the process😂 and @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me yap and helping me come up with ideas when I would get stuck😍I am so thankful for both of them and y’all should check out their works because they are wonderful!!!💖 With that being said this fic has grown on me a lot and I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do🥹 Dialogue is not my strong suite so I apologize if any of the lines sound corny🤧 I don’t give anyone permission to copy, translate or repost my works on here or other sites😊 Comments and constructive feedback is always appreciated!!

Bucky absentmindedly breaks down the last few cardboard boxes, taking in your newly furnished living room. Photos of you and your respective families are scattered along the walls and on top of your antique furniture. Plants strategically placed around the room and the gorgeous lamps you picked out created a welcoming atmosphere.

He throws the last box on top of his makeshift pile, wondering how all of the broken roads of his life led him to this moment, how he got his dream girl, a woman who accepted him with his baggage and loved the parts of him that he deemed unpleasant, physically and mentally. It all felt so surreal to him.

As the time grew closer for the wedding to start, Bucky couldn’t help but pace his dressing room floor. He occasionally looked in the mirror to fix his hair or wipe his face with another paper towel before throwing it away in the almost-filled trash can. He felt like his throat was constricted and began fidgeting with his tie. Eventually, he gave up and hunched over a table, trying to remind himself that everything was okay.

The weight of a hand rubbing his back, slowly grounded him for a moment. Steve’s voice sounded muffled in his ears but grew clearer as Bucky took in deeper breaths and continued to focus on the circular motion of Steve’s movements. “Buck, do you want me to get her for you?” The small “please” he lets out is all it takes for Steve to rush to your room.

Bucky stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from on top of a dresser. He was almost finished with it when a soft knock caught his attention.

“Baby?” You say opening the door slightly and sticking your hand through the gap. A clammy palm rests on yours as you massage his knuckles with your thumb, imprinting your touch in his mind, a silent reminder that you’ll always be there when he needs you.

“You ready to be stuck with me for life, Hotshot?” You tease, grinning as you hear him let out a quiet laugh.

"I should be asking you that, Gorgeous,” he breathes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something than I am at the thought of marrying you. I’m just worried that I’ll somehow mess this up or this is one big dream. I’m afraid that at any second I’ll wake up in a cold sweat and find myself sitting on that old apartment floor, where instead of hearing that lovely voice of yours, it’ll be the older lady next door yelling because she muted her TV again or the loud honks from angry New Yorkers." He rests his head against the door and clutches the doorknob with his metal hand.

“Can you feel that, Bubba?” you say, placing his hand on your chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart beating against his fingertips. “My heart beats like this when I see or listen to you. When I think about being able to wear your ring on my finger, taking your last name, and one day being the mother of your children. My heart beats for you, Bucky, and that's one of the realest feelings I've ever experienced.”One thing Bucky loves about you is you’ve never judged him for expressing his fears, and you’re always there to support him when his insecurities eat away at his progress.

He can hear Natasha's distant voice calling for you and smiles softly.

“I’ve got to head back for last-minute touch-ups, but I’ll see you at the end of the aisle, right?” You reach for his hand on your chest, gently kissing his palm before reconnecting your hands together.

“I’ll be there waiting for you. I love you, Gorgeous.” He squeezes your hand, running his thumb over your fingers.

“I love you too, Hotshot.” And with that, you slip your hand from his loose grip and through the door, your hurried steps echoing in the hall. Steve enters a moment later, noticing that the previous tension in Bucky’s body has almost completely disappeared.

“Let’s go make you a married man, Buck.”

“What are we waiting for, punk,” Bucky says, slapping him on the back playfully, laughing with each other as they walk out of the room, ready to make his dreams come true.

“Hey Gorgeous, I’ve got a question for you.” Bucky groans out as he starts straightening up his mess.

“Ask away, Hotshot.” You utter, your voice resounding slightly in the foyer as you hang up a picture of the two of you on your wedding night.

Humming along to the soft music from the living room while admiring how Bucky’s skin glowed under the golden hues from the sparklers your friends and family surrounded the two of you with. You can still feel the love radiating from him just by looking at his tender smile and remembering how his deep blue eyes twinkled with fondness as he gazed at you with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“How do you feel about going on a date tomorrow?” You smile at the steady sound of footsteps approaching you. A pair of hands enclose your wide hips, and Bucky’s chin rests on your shoulder as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Bubs.” The warmth of his breath sends a shiver through your body, and you can feel your cheeks heating up as he places a sweet kiss below your ear.

“Where are you going to take me?” You ask, grabbing his hands and placing them on your plush belly, leaning back in his embrace.

“Let’s see, I could take you to the movies, an amusement park, or maybe a pumpkin patch. The possibilities are endless.” You hear his grin before you see it, turning your head towards him.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” A pout forms on your face, and you twist in his arms as he straightens up, clasping your hands together behind his neck.

“You would be correct, Gorgeous,” he says, smirking and pecking your lips. You hope he didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes as an idea popped into your head.

“How am I supposed to know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going?” You ask sweetly, letting your fingertips play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’ll pick out something for you.” Your head tilts and eyebrows raise in amusement.

“You…are going to choose what I wear?” Bucky rolls his eyes and licks his lower lip in thought.

“Are you questioning my fashion sense, Doll? If I remember correctly, you wear my clothes more than I do.” His hands slip down to the top of your ass drawing your body in even closer, and you roll your eyes this time.

“You’ve never put together an outfit for me before, and I like wearing your clothes because they’re comfortable and smell like you.”

“Don’t want that pretty little head of yours worrying about a thing tomorrow. And I’m not complaining; they look better on you than on me. You make anything you wear look amazing, especially when it's in white.” A warm smile is plastered across his face, his eyes darting up to the photo behind you, another memory from the best day of his life playing in his mind like an old film.

“Do I look alright? Am I beginning to smell?” Bucky questions Steve and Sam as he tries to smoothen out his already-perfect suit jacket. The chattering from the guests did little to calm his nerves.

“You’re lookin’ snazzy, Bucknasty,” Sam says, giving Bucky a lighthearted slap on his ass.

"You look great, Buck." Steve wraps his arms around Bucky, bringing him into a tight hug. "I'm proud of you, man." He whispers, giving Bucky a brotherly kiss on the side of his head and a pat on his back as he lets go. He thanks the both of them before turning back around, eyes scanning the crowd as he tries to grasp the idea that all of these people are there for the both of you.

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off the door as the orchestra played the familiar tune of the song you chose for your entrance. After all the practices and months spent planning for this moment, nothing could prepare him for the overwhelming feeling he got when the ushers revealed your figure standing at the opposite end of him.

His bottom lip quivered, and he began to blink rapidly, but his gaze never strayed away from you. The dress you picked was beautiful, the shade of white complementing your complexion, and the way it hugged you in all the right places made you look like a goddess in his eyes.

He hadn't realized he was crying until you cupped his damp cheek in your palm, gently wiping away his tears while your own began to well in your eyes.

"Hi," you whispered through your watery smile, and it took everything in him not to crash his lips against yours.

You lightly glide your fingers down the side of his face, beaming up at him, already knowing where his train of thought took him. Gently tapping the side of his glasses, you watch as he slowly comes back to you, the affection in his eyes creating a warmth inside you that only he can ignite.

You wrap your arms around his midsection, and he kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head, holding you against his body a little tighter.

“I think I look good in white too.” You say casually, a giggle escaping the two of you.

“Oh, yeah?” He says, a crooked smirk forming on his face, and you pull away slightly. A smirk of your own playing on your lips as you lean up next to his ear.

“So much so that I could be convinced to recreate the boudoir photos I gave you.” You take his earlobe between your teeth, pulling slightly, a low growl rumbles in his chest, and you do your best to keep your thighs from clenching. Bucky’s hands cup your ass as he lifts you in his arms.

“I’m sure it won’t take much to persuade you, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes at his cockiness, causing him to chuckle as he connects your lips, blindly making his way to your bedroom.

You felt a sense of tranquility despite the chilly breeze nipping at your exposed skin as you strolled through the desolate yet animated park. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the soft chirping of crickets fill your ears, while you watch the beautiful glow of fireflies encircling the bushes lining the pathway.

You admire the way the clear water of the pond shimmers softly in the moonlight as you take a seat on your favorite bench. Your eyes close and the tension in your body slowly fades as you allow yourself to enjoy Mother Nature and the safe feeling she provides you.

The hairs on your arms stand up as an unsettling feeling washes over you, and the squelching of grass confirms your fears of not being alone. You open your eyes, turning your head, searching for the source that disturbed your peace. Your eyes land on a figure standing at the edge of the pond.

He must have felt your stare because the next thing you know, a pair of striking blue eyes connects with yours. He watches you curiously as you assess whether he's a threat, and a ghost of a smile crosses his lips when he notices the slight drop in your shoulders before turning his gaze back to the still water.

Your lip rolls between your teeth as you consider leaving. You stand and start to walk away, but then you hear the stranger speak.

“You don’t have to leave.” He says, and you turn around after a lengthy moment of stillness, wondering if you should trust him. You observe his relaxed stance, face devoid of malice, but it's his captivating eyes that draw you in and tug at your heartstrings.

There was a silent plea within them, a look you've grown used to seeing in the mirror over the years. Hoping for someone to fill the kind of emptiness that comes with having experienced too much, even if only for a short while.

You stand in silence as a family of ducks begins to swim by. A twinge of pain surges through your chests, as you both watch the last one struggle to keep up, feeling like Mother Nature is reminding you that you were once in similar positions.

The wind grows colder, causing you to cross your arms in an attempt to conserve body heat. He notices this and starts to rid himself of his leather jacket.

“What are you doing?” You squeak out, taking a step back.

“Relax, you’re obviously cold and I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I let you stand there shivering.” You go to protest but he’s already wrapping his jacket around your arms.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers.” You exclaim, although, grateful for the makeshift shield against the cool weather.

“What are you? Ten? Would you feel better if I gave you my name?” He mocks and your eyes roll.

It’s always the pretty ones that are annoying.

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” He says, your eyes grow wide and your mouth gapes open.

I didn't mean to say that out loud.

“Fuck off. I think you’re annoying too.” He barks out a laugh at that, startling you slightly, you turn your head away from him feeling a small grin make its way to the surface.

“The name’s James, but you can call me Bucky, or pretty if that’s what you want.” He winks and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tell him your name.

“Gorgeous name for an even more gorgeous girl,” he pauses as his phone goes off and a deep sigh leaves his lips when he checks the notification.

“I hate to depart like this, but duty calls.” He says backing away slowly, waving his phone in his hand. You go to give him his jacket, but he starts making a disapproving noise.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers, Gorgeous.” A sly smirk forms on his face before he spins around, gradually disappearing from your line of sight.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself, pulling the leather around you tighter as you begin to head back to your car, wondering if you’ll ever run into him again.

[inkedells]

okay but messing around with dbf!joel while on a family trip to cancun🤧

A/N: oh i absolutely ate down with this drabble

warnings: SMUT, literally everything that happens here is in public where anyone can walk in on them, grinding, so much dirty talk as usual, oh and just to be clear, reader is a legal adult (her age is never specified)

word count: ~750

masterlist

mdni! | requests open.

When you insisted you spend a couple hours at the resort pool at quite literally the crack of dawn, your mother shooed you off with a simple instruction before going back to sleep: take Joel with you.

You sat at the edge of the pool, kicking your feet in the cool turquoise water as you read your book—Or, at least, pretended to read your book. And it had everything to do with the way Joel was staring at you. Your bikini was baby blue and white gingham with ruffles on the edges, a fairly innocent combination, although slightly revealing.

With the pool area completely empty this time of day, you wanted to have some fun.

“Hey, Joel?” You called out, hand over your eyes as you squinted at him laying down on a sunchair under a cabana..

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

And there it was. Voice calm as ever, he called you by the name he only ever called you in private, and you found your legs instinctively squeezing together.

“I, um…” You lost your train of thought for a moment, but recovered quickly enough, “Would you like some company?”

He looked at you with adoration, running a hand through his hair. “Well when you say it so politely, darlin’, how could I say no?”

You sat your book down and stood to your feet in one fluid motion, deliberately bending down to pick up your book with your ass facing Joel. From the corner of your eye, you could see him staring.

Good.

You sauntered over to him without a word, watching him make room for you to sit next to him as he remained laying down. Neither of you spoke for a couple of seconds, just drinking in the heady air of each other’s presence; For you, that meant staring a little too long and hard at the hand on Joel’s belly resting dangerously close to the waistband of his swim shorts, the soft puffs of breath escaping his parted lips, and the smooth, tan skin of his exposed thighs. For Joel, that meant fucking you with his eyes as he scanned over every curve of your body.

“How d’you like Cancun so far?” Joel asked, pretending like he wasn’t imagining you naked that very second as he reached out to graze your fingers with his own.

“Hot,” You whispered, his question barely processing because god were his eyes beautiful and god was his stare unwavering and god were you so fucking horny you couldn’t breathe.

“And what else?” He whispered back.

“And, um… And… I… I don’t want to talk about Cancun anymore.”

“Why’s that?”

Joel knew exactly why.

“Because…”

“Because?”

“Joel. Come on.”

“Ohh,” Joel pretended to realize, “You didn’t come here to talk. You came here ‘cause you want to get played with.”

Before you could say another word, he was pulling your head down to kiss you. It was passionate and heated, but most of all dirty, because here you were kissing your dad’s best friend… on vacation… in a bikini… with your family sound asleep in the hotel room multiple floors above you.

But you had a strong feeling that the kiss wouldn’t remain “just a kiss” much longer.

“Let me touch you,” Joel urged, panting against your mouth as you moved to straddle his hips, “Can I touch you? I’ll make you feel real good, honey, I promise.”

You nodded eagerly, subtly pushing your hips forward in an effort to create friction for your throbbing core. Joel immediately complied, his hands on your ass as he guided your movements. But when he noticed something like frustration appearing on your face, Joel was slipping a hand down the front of your bikini.

You couldn’t help but gasp, panting out little whines and mewls as he stroked you. He started with a combination of rubbing circles on your clit, smirking as he stroked a finger through the wetness gathered between your legs and teased your hole every now and then. With how vocally you were responding to his ministrations, it wasn’t long before he was inserting two fingers inside of you and delivering your first instruction.

“Grind on my fingers. Mhm, yeah, just like that.”

And soon, your second instruction.

“Squeeze those tits for me, sweetheart. God knows my hands are busy.”

And finally, your third.

“Hey, cum quick, alright? Don’t want your old man finding us like this. Jesus, his best friend finger fuckin’ his little girl. What would he think?”

masterlist

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @/wintaerbaer (edited 2024: crossed out but not removed bc even tho she plagiarized obs afterward, she did beta this for me so i guess i still gotta give her that lmfao) for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist join our OBS discord server ✨

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere. 

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house. 

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married. 

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great. 

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here. 

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met. 

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky. 

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace. 

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground. 

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks. 

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go. 

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time  [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him  [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back.  [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.”  You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement. 

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge. 

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

I miss you.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him. 

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him.  His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening. 

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 24, 2023]

[precious-little-scoundrel]

| Ida’s Law

Introductory Part

Summary: The American War Effort had conceded to the enlisting and commissioning of women into the Air Force at semi-integrated status. Deemed a more reliable if not safer combat post, the going rank of officer in the Air Force was intended to secure fair treatment and combatant status for these women, as it had for their male counterparts. Like most things in war -or life, if one is a woman- such recognition must be fought for.

Warnings: disturbing content- if you made it through last one this one should be a breeze, however it picks up where we left off so expect mentions of war, wounds, illusions to past rapes, Nazis being racist fucks, possibly some internalized misogyny about it all and some hopefully very 🥹🤧 reunions

A Note Going Forward: With this part now published, I am happy to open this series up for prompts. Ideally I’d like this series to end up being exclusively prompt-inspired and will be putting out prompt lists accordingly. I think that will be a fun way to keep the interaction going, stretch my own skills and explore all the different scenarios that may intrigue y’all. You’re welcome to come up with your own prompts, too. All are welcome, none guaranteed but let’s be real -I’m obsessed with this AU so I’ll likely do it. For now I’ll be keeping all writing to POW Camp and Liberation and Post-Liberation timelines.

“Well, what do we know?” Ida Brady asked the first officer out on the other side as they began to filter through the laborious processing of the camp. She counted them down, one familiar face after another appearing through the doorway again with no worse indignity than the new identification tags hanging from their necks.

“I hate a guy named Johann, and I like a guy named Fritz, and the lieutenant guy wasn’t bad.” Maureen declared, straightening her precious cap atop muddy auburn tresses. “Who went and named their son Fritz after the last war? I mean really? Who does that to a kid? It’s like he’s making up for it now, though, awfully nice.”

“Mm, I thought so, too.” Ida hummed, “Might keep an eye on that one, work on him a bit. You think, Kendeigh?”

“Work on him yourself, Ida.” Maureen scoffed.

“Not much to work with.” Ida retorted, the first general reference to her disfigurement she’d made. “What do you know? What’s up?” she left off to inquire after Tallulah Smith who came out the other side of processing looking more than exasperated.

“Know? They don’t know squat.” she said, “Never heard of a Cherokee.”

“I’ll be.” Maureen was grinning sharply. “Wasn't enough being a woman for ya Smith, ya had to go and be a brown one.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” She griped, “They kept insisting I was a fighter pilot. That’s what all the ‘dark ones’ are, according to them. Told them I’d rewire their insides and maybe then they’d take my engineering degree seriously.”

“I’d like to see that.” Maureen murmured, drowsiness beginning to take over at the comparative calm of their new surroundings.

“Looks like we got everyone, yeah?” Ida peered over the heads of the crowing room and counted out her charges in a silent tally.

“Looks like.” Smith agreed. “Got billet assignments?”

“I do. Colonel Clark, most senior prisoner here, said the combines are strict but the rooms aren’t. Let’s try to behave until we feel our way, then we can swap, if they allow.”

“It’s going to smell like feet no matter where and who we share it with.” Smith pointed out and Ida heaved a great sigh as if that were the hardest prospect she’d yet encountered.

“Mm.”

“Buck is out there!” Maureen suddenly cried out, grabbing at Ida’s arm, pointing out the window at the muddy yard.

“How nice. Gotta get this sorted first, eyes in, Kendeigh.”

Maureen reluctantly tore her eyes away from her dearly missed pilot. “Yes sir.”

“All right,” Ida’s voice carried as well as it ever had, commanding immediate quiet and attention, “those in the 350th, 419th, -the hundredth!- on me. Gather ‘round. That’s it, come on. Alright, well, we made it, well done. Truly, well done to all of you. Now I know you well enough to not accuse any of you of being pure idiots, just because we made it to where we wanted to go doesn’t mean any of what’s ahead is going to be easy. Be wary, don’t let your guard down, you don’t know plenty of these men and they don’t know you, I’m sure there are measures in place for spying already. Be sensible. I am certain we can rely on the kindness of those in the hundredth, but even then keep in mind, if you are cold, they are too, if you're hungry, you best believe they are hungrier, the last thing we need is a crisis of chivalry in here. Rely on them, except their help, but don’t ever take from them. Understood? And one more thing, since the human spirit is irrepressible I feel it’s warranted to make one more housekeeping note. None, and I do mean none, no inner relations at all are allowed. I don’t care how cold you are, how sweet he’s been, or how much you’ve missed him. The Red Cross aren’t sending rubbers, and don’t ever take the promise of a pull out. Do you want a one-way ticket to a death camp or a bullet to the head? Get pregnant. Simple as that. You think the Jerries think poorly of you now for being female? Try being a matron. The point is to blend in as much as possible, keep that in mind. Whatever you do, keep that in mind. Understood?”

“Yes sir!”

“Colonel?” One voice demurred, raised hand and respectful title only forerunners for an obvious objection incoming.

“Yes? Sanchez, isn’t it? You’re not one of mine, I think.”

“No, sir, 55th -fighters.”

“Yes, well, welcome. What’s your question?”

“No offense sir but- what about the guards?” Sanchez asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Brady replied with typical candor, “I believe so far we’ve seen a mix here. I’m sure our friends can give us tips on who to watch out for.”

“No sir, sorry I meant-“ Sanchez kept her teeth clenched until her thoughts seemed to form better, “-you said no relations. What about the guards? No disrespect meant colonel and I don’t know about yours, but mine -they weren’t pulling out.”

“Mm.” Maureen thought that if Ida smashed her lips together any tighter they’d turn whiter than her skin, the bent aviators she had managed to preserve this entire time did a remarkable job of masking whatever feeling was stiffening her spine to the current degree, but all the same, her spine was stiff, “no offense taken, an excellent point. I’ll inquire about any possible…remedies. Anyone else?”

A multitude of hands shot up and Ida Brady scanned them with bewilderment until she realized her lapse in specificity. “Anyone else with questions, I meant! Saints alive. No? Good, let’s claim our bunks and see about a wash.”

After the dark interior of the building, being processed for hours, the hazy late afternoon light of outside glared painfully against Ida’s bloodshot eyes as she stepped out, leading the way down the three wooden steps to the muddy yard. Monochrome, this place, brown wooden buildings and brown earth and a muddy sky and brown flight jackets one after another.

And there in the midst of it, waiting for them with ever constant patience and thinned stateliness was Gale Cleven and his lost blue eyes and an alarmingly symmetrical set of facial scars.

“Major.” Ida felt her face soften into an odd expression she realized was likely that of relief. Cleven had that way about him, it was better suited to her preferences than Egan’s blustering warm hearted concern, Colonel Harding’s gruff joviality or her John’s perpetually intense concern. Her little brother was, oddly, nowhere to be seen now and that was a comfort in this wide open, highly observed space.

“Colonel.” Gale Cleven’s eyes weren’t a lost blue anymore but a pair of stormy seas and Ida steeled herself for pity. She found smoldering rage in his face instead. Another relief.

“How was it?” he was nodding to the command hut.

“Fine.” she assured.

He was searching for something in her face and Ida was sure it was easily found skin deep along her puffy, purpled left cheek, but if she had anything to do with her expression alone, he’d be kept guessing for ages. “Good.” he decided at last but his smile was tight, “Made John wait in the combine, he’s in there pacing like a madman. They make a note of who’s attached to whom, Colonel,” he explained, “a more discreet reunion seemed in order.”

“We’d appreciate all the direction you—“ Ida had begun but was cut short by Lt. Kendeigh who broke ranks from the processed group and came out of the hut behind Ida like a bat out of hell, running up to Cleven and tackling him in a hug, rather like a dog with their long lost master.

The Major’s lanky frame staggered under her surprise attack, perhaps more from shock and ill preparedness than poor rations and a weakened constitution. Or at least Ida, hoped that was the case.

Well, there went all intentions for discretion about partiality on their part, five seconds had gone by and Maureen still hadn’t let go, her valued cap about ready to knock off her head and his too. Seeing the gig was up, Cleven even belatedly brought an arm up to hug her shoulders, his pleased face bashfully pacifying her intensity. “If it isn’t my favorite bombardier.” Cleven mumbled, his lips failing not to tug upwards in the tiniest of smiles, and he gave her a pat on the back.

“Buck!” Smith was coming in hot behind Kendeigh and knocked Ida’s shoulder in her haste to get around her and join in. “Thank Jesus you’re here.” she grunted as she squeezed him and Kendeigh both, “I mean -we’re sorry you’re here but since we’re here-“

“Glad you’re here, too, Smith.” he assured her gently, another pat on another back and Ida watched Cleven’s composure began to flake as he took stock of their roughened appearances. “It’s gonna be ok now.” he offered, and coming from someone else that statement would’ve sounded a great deal less impressive than it did coming from him. It also sounded hollow without Bucky’s typical parroting of the upbeat sentiment. “Let’s get you girls sorted.” he nodded at Ida who fell in alongside him, if only to distance and displace Kendeigh and her over familiarity just a tad.

“What’s your Kommandant like?” Ida asked by way of conversation as Gale directed them in a trudge along the brown paths towards his specified hut.

“Think I know him as well as you.” Gale admitted, “Tried to stay low, been no reason for socializing. Wouldn’t advise a trip to the camp doctor though.” He added the last part after a beat.

“Why?”

“Your Johnny says he’s got an experimental mind.” Gale smiled wryly but there was a grieved look behind it that made Ida’s pulse pound in alarm, “If you go in with a cold, you might come out with a radioactive arm instead.”

“Noted.” Ida muttured with a shiver, wishing to god her jacket hadn’t been taken off her a couple stops ago, the sun was waning in the dull sky and the breeze was frigid without it. “Speaking of doctors,” she decided to go for it, “is Johnny -my John- is he alright? At the gate it was such a racket, was he…standing?”

Gale paused in his step up into the combine, brows knitted in surprise and she noticed along with him that their little march had drawn quite a little audience from the fellow inmates. Females in a Stalag -what a novelty. “Yeah, John’s fine. He’s fit.” Gale still had that quizzical look on his face.

Ida swallowed hard and gave him another curt nod, one she wanted to come across as grateful but wasn’t sure it did, her battered cheek was responding less and less to her mind’s commands. “Right. This us?”

“Yeah. Figured we’d try to keep as many close as possible.” He explained, “Welcome to paradise.”

“What did y’all name this shack?” Maureen asked him as she stepped over the threshold, it was dark inside and smelled of lumber and smoke.

“We haven’t.” Gale admitted, forlorn at the realization that things like that didn’t occur to people like him. If Bucky had been here, he’d have had it named in an hour, and something awful, too. Something that would make them all laugh.

“Damn oversight, Gingerale.” Maureen teased merrily but Cleven noticed the dimming light in her eyes as she took in the cramped, uninspired utility of the place. One wooden doorway after another.

“Talked it over with Colonel Clark during your processing,” Gale said, “decided it were best if we mingle you all among the men we know. Boys from your squadrons, friendly faces. A few of you in each room.”

“I call dibs on yours.” Maureen unabashedly grinned up at Cleven but Ida saw how a heartbroken look of protectiveness skittered across his features.

“Alright.” he muttered without a fight for once.

“Mm, Smith, Sanchez, Tong, you in here.” Ida decided and having snapped her fingers she was moving on to the next stuffy room. Asking Cleven at each about their current occupants, and with the precision of memory required of a woman who had to memorize her opponents on the promotional ladder, chose their new bunk mates accordingly.

“And where’s Johnny bunked?” she asked him in a low tone as she watched the next set settle in from the doorway.

“In with me, further down the hall, Demarco, Hambone, a few others.”

Ida seemed to hesitate as she eyed up an extra bunk in the current room that the last of her girls were settling into.

“Don’t be a stick, colonel,” Maureen spoke up gently, a surprising liberty even for her, “you need friends right now. Bunk with us. Everyone’s going to be fine. Can’t be all places at all times, ya know?”

Ida didn’t reply but after a moment she admitted, “I should go see John.”

Gale and Maureen exchanged a look and then moved in unison to catch up to her as Ida Brady walked, brisk as if she were back home at Thorpe and about to pick a fight with Jack Kidd, down the long hall to one of the last rooms. “In here?” she asked Gale, pointing at the closed door -they liked to keep it so for warmth and privacy, and to acclimate the guards to it being closed when the radio was out.

“Yeah that’s us.” Cleven replied, reaching out and snagging Maureen back a step as Ida turned the handle. “Let’s give ‘em a minute.” he suggested, referring to the Bradys.

He held her jacket sleeve for a brief moment before turning it to grab her hand, he’d missed those hands. To his horror their usual calloused elegance was a swollen paw of bruises. “The hell, Maureen?” he whispered in shock, turning it over to examine it, grip strong around her wrist before she could pull away. “Who did this?”

Maureen did her best to shrug, “Some bitch stood on them.” she said simply, and surrendered the other hand for a similar heartbroken inspection.

Kendeigh was indeed not as visibly marred as Ida Brady or a few of the others, but still, Gale kept turning her crushed hands over and over, recalling with vivid agony the way he’d admired them at all manner of work before. To hurt them that way, to restrain her so meanly- “Maureen,” she’d never heard his voice dip so low, and his eyes were simmering where they cataloged her hurts, “what’d they do to you?”

“What’d they do to your face?” she shot back, perhaps more perturbed by the immaculately symmetrical scars on his once porcelain face than her own condition. Women expected the treatment they’d gotten, in some twisted way, but this on the other hand, it disturbed her.

Gale looked taken aback by her question and quickly dropped her hand to touch his right cheek as if to remind himself the scar was obvious to everyone. “Flak.” he replied a beat too late.

“Awfully precise.” she snarked.

“I asked you first.”

“I told you, a bitch stood on them.”

“I’m your superior officer.”

“Who it looks like someone had some fun with,” Maureen snapped back, “who did this?”

“What happened to you?” He hit right back but his voice quavered.

“I’m fine now. I wanna go see the boys. Come on.”

“Just- give them another minute.” Gale insisted, pulling her back away from the doorway again, “It’s a lot.” He reminded, “For a brother to see his sister like -that.”

Maureen couldn’t argue with that, besides Gale looked so sad and more fragile than she’d ever seen him, and the gentle hold he had on her jacket was as needy and scared as a child’s. “I’m glad we’re in this together.” she whispered.

“Me too.” he admitted, guilty and sad over how true that was before letting her press her lips to his.

Ida Brady didn’t know what she expected when she opened the door, not much she supposed, just a living brother with any luck. It was a decently tidy room, plates stacked on a rough hewn board at the far end, eight bunks lining the walls, stacked three tall. A table was in the middle and there sat dear old Crank and Hambone too, Murph with Benny. A card game was ongoing.

They looked so fine, quite normal, all in all.

All motion in the small room stopped upon her entrance. Cards were dropped and cigarettes forgotten in open mouthed shock.

“Holy shit -colonel?” Demarco didn’t have a dishonest bone in his body, and his disbelieving horror over her appearance came through loud and clear in his greeting. She hadn’t seen him at the gate.

The same for Hambone’s face, one that had never bothered to be discreet in pleasant circumstances, much less in shocking ones like seeing a notorious superior officer come in looking about as battered as a body could get -although his torn cheek was one to talk. Crank recovered first, in his mild, stammering sort of way, glancing at the lean figure who still stood looking out the lone window.

“Well, if it isn’t Ain’t Pretty Brady.” Crank clapped uneasily, summoning her nickname from basic just to cut the tension, it served to startle John.

He turned from the window abruptly, blank faced and unblinking as he realized the sister he had been watching for had already arrived. If their ole nan from the motherland had suddenly materialized before him he could have hardly looked more haunted or aghast, wide fringed fox eyes and that straight fold of a mouth -always so very held together, her little brother. Even after his third belly landing.

But those startled unblinking eyes...

Ida wanted to tell him to blink, that it was all alright now, that they were both alive and that it was good enough, it had to be. But she seemed to have fully lost all power over her throbbing cheek at last, she could feel her lips move in a motion she realized with supreme panic was likely a wobble of emotion. She ripped her aviators off, as if seeing her eyes might help his to come alive.

“John John?” she croaked in greeting, oblivious of the childish endearment tumbling off her lips in a room full of soldiers. If it were something their family was in the habit of doing, Ida Brady might have rushed him like Maureen did her pilot, or held out her own hand to be held, asked for a gesture from him -after what she’d gone through, surely it couldn’t have been weakness to want a clap on the shoulder, a flick to the bicep, a little “well done” for staying alive.

But she just stood there and watched him clock her shame. She could feel her swollen lip splitting in real time as the swelling and incessant trembling tore the taut skin apart, they’d passed around a single canteen in processing and it wasn’t enough, the walls of her throat felt collapsed together. Maybe she should have asked for a mirror first, maybe Cleven or Kendeigh or Smith should have told her she’d bring a whole room to a frozen standstill by her looks alone. They’d seen her at the gate -were these meager lightbulbs really so much more illuminating?

“Eye-eye.” Johnny let it out in a breathy rush as if he’d suddenly come to, and then he was in front of her, hands cradling the sides of her neck, thumbs hooked gently under her bruised jaw. A calloused pad swiped away the ticklish trickle of blood sliding the crease of her mouth.

Eye eye -his onetime baby babble for Ida, and she’d never let him forget it.

She could have wept at the useless sentimentality of it, of the gentle familiarity of familial hands, at the seething loyalty storming across his face.

“The fuck did they do?” he articulated at last, voice gravelly as shit but also reminiscent of the squeaky olden days when his castrato role suddenly no longer served one Sunday in choir.

“You’ve got legs.” she answered instead, sounding maniacal in her happiness.

He looked at her like she’d gone fully crazy as well as beat, “Yeah? Yeah I do.”

“They said, they said you didn’t.” she chuckled, a bizarre merriment trying to take hold in her relief, “During interrogation, that bespectacled cunt told me you had your legs crushed when you crashed.”

“No? No- no I jumped.” He insisted, then let go of her face to step back and gesture to two fit legs, as long and lanky as she remembered, as long and lanky as her own. “I jumped, I’m fine. They told you that?”

“Yeah.” Ida said, “Told me the longer I didn’t comply the longer you were without medical attention. I -I’ve been so…uneasy…about you.”

“I’m fine.” He repeated, hands back on her shoulders and she was grateful for it despite the bruises he was gripping, grateful for the way he kept touching her like he was going to hold her together with his own two hands, same blood, same flesh, same memories, maybe whatever she’d lost he could supply back like a blood donation. “Those sons of bitches.” he cursed them.

“Plasma for planes.” she agreed.

He kept looking at her, at her cheek and at her ragged hair and at the missing buttons, “You didn’t tell them anything did you?” he suddenly asked, wide eyed. “You know i’d rather die than have you tell.”

Ida scoffed, and gave him a grin, the best one she could manage with her cheek and split lip, “What do you take me for, Johnny?”

“A cold hearted bitch, I hope.” he returned the small smile but his voice cracked, still that hint of something long gone and juvenile.

“That’s what their Lieutenant called me.” Ida confirmed, a little proud, and sensing a renewal of his inquiries, Ida chose to take the offensive and call out for a conspicuously absent Kendeigh, “Candy! Didn’t you want to tell Johnny about your charming admirer? The Lieutenant?”

Kendeigh came round the doorway hastily, her lips puffy and cheeks oddly red. Cleven followed after and matched her, and his blush did nothing but highlight those scars of his. “Brady.” Maureen greeted, boldly hugging Ida’s very stiff brother without care —due to his red cheeks and rigid shoulders Ida concluded Cleven had given his own inner-relations talk to the men—, “Yes, I wanted to -oh hello Crank, Benny you son of gun- wanted to tell y'all about my ticket outta here -hell Hambone, how’d you manage to get uglier? -see my integrator, he found me fairly fetching. I think one of these days he’s gonna roll up in his shiny car and take me away from here and you’re all gonna wish you’d taken time to learn a little know-how about Alligators and their hibernation tactics in the winter. He was enthralled.”

There was an awkward silence hanging in the room, Crank grimaced a smile out of sheer generosity of heart and Benny Demarco still sat with his cigarette neglected on his open lip. Cleven, used to her preening brazness kept a tight lip, though a thousand questions seemed to swirl in his eyes.

“He the one who stood on your hands?” John Brady asked her without hesitancy.

Maureen whirled round then, comedy hour over and an angry flush creeping up her neck at his directness. “No.” she snapped. “Can’t some of them be alright?”

“A German’s a German.” he countered.

“There’s Fitzs and then there’s Johanns.” she disagreed nebulously and only Ida got her reference.

“And a shower is a shower,” Ida butted in before this became an experiment in an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force “which we need, badly. We’re…filthy.”

“We’ve got working sinks, trough sinks.” Cleven clarified with an apologetic look as if it were his fault the showers only ran once a week and poorly at that, and the water they had was frigid already in autumn.

“Water is water.” Ida reasoned in return, wondering when Johnny was going to finally let go of her arm.

“We’ll clear it out for ya.” Cleven said.

“And we’ll guard the entrance.” John added emphatically.

“Thanks.” Ida muttured, “Some of us could use to mend our uniforms.” she added, refusing to blanch at the subtle inventory of her jagged tears and crusted blood being made by every man in the room.

Maureen at least had her jacket intact. Her cap, too.

“Here, you can have my trousers while I stitch yours.” her John decided and was unbuckling his belt before she even registered the hand gone from her shoulder.

“What?” Ida balked, “You’re going to go ‘round in your skivvies?”

“Not as uncommon around here as you’d think, Ida.” Gale said, a small smile on his face. “I’m afraid order and decorum has gone to shit without you.”

“Well I’m here now.” she replied sternly but didn’t stop Johnny as he stripped.

“And so am I.” Kendeigh grinned and all Ida could do was to bless the saints for having let only one terror into the camp, were Bucky Egan to be here too, things would become intolerably lax. As soon as she thought it she repented it, sending up a prayer for the poor, absent bastard.

“Say Benny, you’re shorter, can I have your pants?” Maureen pleaded.

“Why mine?” Demarco protested, only offended at the height implication.

“Because Cleven’s too tall and I’ve already been in his pants.”

“Maureen!”

“Ida, order somebody to give me their pants.”

“You can have mine.” Crank offered kindly, and then stood up and bashfully began to unlayer. It left him in skivvies, a snuggly sweater and his flight jacket.

“It’s a good look, Crank,” Maureen grinned at the finished product as he handed the trousers over. “I’m seeing you in a different light.”

“Maureen!”

“Just sayin-“

“Take the pants with you to the washroom!” Brady interjected desperately as Maureen looked ready to strip right here and now. “Jesus, Kendeigh.”

“Touchy, touchy.” Maureen ribbed him, out for blood in her tired state and if she couldn’t have that of the Germans she would of her friends’.

“Alright let’s - let’s settle down.” Gale implored, a tired expression firmly etched onto his face and Ida herself considered giving up on the wash altogether and tumbling into the available bunk to court the oblivion of sleep. Were it only blood and dirt she just might, her usual tidiness be damned.

As it was -it was, there was…the filth was so much worse.

And if Ida thought on it too long she’d go mad and want to pour boiling lye on herself to wash herself clean and to kill the shame of it. She’d have to scrub the pants before she gave them to Johnny to be mended, it was bad enough for a brother to see the blood and busted seams.

“Yes, settle down for God’s sake.” she echoed Cleven, and something about her hoarse voice compelled Maureen to temper herself more than any direct order could. “A wash, come on, let’s get the girls. Oh and one more thing, Cleven-“ Ida turned to Gale and found him alert, eager to help. She was afraid she was only setting him up for failure but she had to make an effort to find those “remedies” she’d promised Sanchez. “There any lemons around?”

The incredulous look on his face suggested he thought she knew better, but he was ever polite in his reply, “No, colonel. No lemons.”

“Mm. Nutmeg?” she tried to recall each wicked trick she’d heard condemned when a girl got herself in the family way without the needed family in place.

“No, no nutmeg.”

“Mm.”

“Nothing but potatoes and cigarettes, ma’am. Do you- why?” he asked.

“Nothing.” she assured, “Just, a hot toddy sounds good right about now. You know?”

“Uh,” he floundered, half in suspicion and half in genuine confusion, “never had one.”

“Well then,” she grinned as she passed him, “that’s something to add to our to-do list for when this is all over. Jameson, though, none of that Kentucky stuff.”

“Yes ma’am.” his tone was vacant, smiling concern brittle, “You uh, you alright, Colonel?”

Ida gave him a withering look and then Gale too, had cause to be repentant.

“Come on Kendeigh, let's get the rest.” Ida gestured as she followed Gale back into the hall, aware of Johnny’s eyes still on her, still taking stock, “They better not be in bunks without a wash. Come on, showers, everyone! Out, come on out. You can sleep afterwards. Out! Would one of you be so kind as to wake us up in time for roll call?” she inquired of the male officers straggling behind her in the hall.

“Course! Yeah, for sure.” about five offers went up.

“You wake Me up.” she clarified coming to a full stop, wary of the enthusiasm, “I’ll wake up the rest.”

“I’ll get you up.” Her John said.

He’d probably sit and watch her sleep, too, needle and torn pants in hand, like a creepy little owl but that was one of those things she figured make or break a family, you either find it endearing you have a brother who rarely blinks or you go mad. Today, after all of it, she didn’t mind having a guardian Angel. Or a watchdog. Speaking of-

“Hey,” she asked him, “you two flew out together, where’s Bucky?”

But no one had an answer for that, not even Little John.

💋Hope you enjoyed AND REMEMBER -prompts are now open.

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[berryhobii]

Dessert(jhs x reader)

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x black!female!reader

Warnings: established relationship, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), exhibitionism, s*x toys(bullet vibe), bathroom s*x, unprotected s*x, oral(f receiving), panty stuffing in mouth, doggyst*le, creamp*e, pet names(kitten), a little aftercare

A/N: Hi friends! I’m back with a little sum sum for all my Hobi stans. I’ve been listening to Hope World lately and it really made me realize how much I miss Hobi🤧🤧I didn’t really explicitly describe reader in this besides them having braids so feel free to imagine anything you want! Hope you enjoy! Criticism is greatly appreciated🩵🩵🩵

~

“You okay, kitten?” His saccharine voice pondered from the other side of the table.

You squinted your eyes, eyebrows furrowing at that dumb ass question.

“I’m fantastic, sunshine.” You gritted through your teeth, hand curling into a fist on the tabletop. You were gripping your glass at first but you were scared you’d break it from how hard you were holding it.

Hoseok shot you that beaming smile, the same one that warmed your heart and made you fall a little deeper in love with him.

But now you just wanted to slap it off.

“Are you sure? You seem tense.”

Cheeky bastard.

You crossed your legs, immediately regretting it since that made the vibrator press harder against your clit. You sucked in a breath, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from moaning.

How did you even get here?

Oh yeah, you promised Hoseok you’d do whatever he wanted if he went to that haunted house with you. Honestly, you thought he forgot about that since Halloween already passed but then he brought it up today. You thought he was just going to have you do something stupid or simple; like doing his laundry or prank calling someone.

Really, you didn’t expect this from your sweet boyfriend but a promise was a promise and you didn’t break those.

Damn your morals.

Hoseok had brought both of you out for a nice lunch at your favorite restaurant. So far, you almost moaned when giving the hostess your name, almost moaned again while giving the waiter your drink request, and now you were dangerously close to cumming. And oh no…..

Was that the waiter coming back to take your order?!

Hoseok could see how you attempted to straighten yourself up, a diabolical grin spreading across his face. This would be fun.

“Are you two ready to order?” The waiter asked once he got to your table, taking out his little notepad and a pen.

Your brown eyes pleaded at Hoseok to go first. If you spoke now, you’d definitely moan.

Gratefully, he wasn’t heartless so Hoseok ordered first. “I’ll take your seared salmon with potatoes and brussel sprouts. And a glass of red wine.” The waiter nodded and jotted that down before turning to you.

“And for you, miss?”

You cleared your dry throat. The vibrations weren’t that strong. You could do it!

“I’ll have the a-ahhhh….” You moaned as the vibrators grew even stronger, pleasuring pulsing down your legs all the way to your toes.

Your eyes cut to Hoseok who was innocently smiling. Motherfu—

He had a hand under the table, his thumb moving around the little bar on his phone that controlled the toy. He moved it up, bemused by how your eyes almost crossed. He felt your feet kick at him under the table, your legs always went crazy whenever you were in the throes of pleasure. He loved holding you down and watching you fight against him, it filled him with a wild thrill.

The waiter seemed honestly concerned. “Are you okay?”

Your smile was strained, palms starting to sweat. You were so fucking close but you couldn’t cum. Both you and Hoseok knew you were loud. You were surprised you were staying this quiet and put together. Public shenanigans weren’t really your thing but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t exhilarating.

You choked on another moan when Hoseok turned the vibe all the way up. You moved your braids to cover your face, turning your head away and covering your mouth with the back of your hand to stifle your noises. Foot tapping rapidly against the ground and eyes clenching shut, you tried your best to push down your impending orgasm. Your clit throbbed with need and your belly turned from both nerves and desire.

You were about to lose it.

“Probably a Charlie horse. She gets them sometimes.” Hoseok interjected before the waiter could take a closer look at you.

The waiter took that excuse. “Your order, miss?”

Deciding to take pity on you, Hosoek turned it down a little. You let out a breath, forcing out a “I’ll take the same.” That seemed like the easiest route right now and to be honest, you weren’t really listening to Hoseok’s order so hopefully it was something good.

The waiter nodded and gathered your menus. “I’ll be back with that soon.”

Once the waiter was out of earshot, you let out a moan in your palm.

Hoseok could pick up on all your little tells—you were about to cum.

“About to cum, kitten?”

You clenched your eyes shut, unspilled tears ready to overflow. Frantically nodding your head, you hoped he’d turn it down.

No chance.

Leaning over the table, he murmured, “go to the bathroom.”

There was no way you could walk there like this!

Hoseok must have known that because the vibrator suddenly shut off. You gasped, actually a little flustered at your orgasm fading away but relieved that he wouldn’t make you walk through a slightly busy restaurant like this.

Taking a few deep breaths, you nodded and stood to your feet, wobbling slightly but keeping yourself upright with a hand on the table. You adjusted your skirt, casting your boyfriend a look.

“You better not turn this thing on.”

Reading your expression loud and clear, he shot you a smile.

“Go ahead.”

Huffing, you sped walked over to the corner of the restaurant where the bathrooms were. Your panties stuck uncomfortably to you and the vibrator rubbed against your clit with every step.

Angels must have been smiling down on you because the bathroom was for a single person.

You softly closed the door, turning the lock before leaning against it. Letting out another breath, you moved to pull your skirt up over your hips before slipping your fingers into either side of your panties and pulling them down.

You glared at the little bullet vibrator nestled in the pocket of the garment. How could such a tiny thing cause you to almost lose your mind?

Speaking of things that made you lose your mind…

4 knocks hit the door behind you and you immediately knew it was Hoseok. Shuffling to turn around, you unlocked the door and opened it.

Hoseok grunted as your hand flew out to grip the front of his shirt, yanking him into the bathroom. The door closed and the lock clicked and before he knew it, he was pressed against the wood, lips on his.

He smiled against the kiss, hands moving down to grip at your ass. Spreading one of your cheeks, his other hand rubbed at your slit, groaning at how wet and sticky you were.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so wet. Did this really get you that excited?”

You huffed. “Stop talking and fuck me already.”

Never one to disappoint, Hoseok sprang into action. In a blur, you were moved and pushed back into the sink. Hoseok lifted you up on the sink, wrestling your panties off your legs. He paused for a brief second, a thought popping into his head.

You were about to complain when your panties were suddenly shoved into your mouth. You made a noise of surprise around them, eyes widening at your boyfriend who was still smiling.

“Just to keep you quiet. We don’t want anyone hearing you.” He leaned closer, eyes darkening and octave dropping. “Unless you want them to. Dirty girl.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing, a shudder of lust going up your back. You’ve never felt so turned on before. Your boyfriend had taken a sharp turn and god damn, if you didn’t love it.

You whined around the gag to which Hoseok smirked, pressing a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you what you want.”

Crouching down, Hoseok pushed your legs up by the backs of your knees to display your dripping cunt, lips latching onto your clit. Your moan was muffled, hands gripping the sink under you.

Hoseok hummed against your clit, the vibrations sending shocks all across your body. You knocked your head back against the mirror, eyes clenching shut as Hoseok slurped at your clit.

He flattened his tongue, bobbing his head up and down in fast movements against your throbbing nub. You kicked your legs out, the heels of your shoes hitting his shoulders. He slid his hands up to your calves, holding your legs in a V position.

You almost fell into the bowl of the sink from how your hips jerked. You were already so close again, all that teasing earlier paired with the thrill of getting caught was pushing you to the brink faster than you thought. Saliva soaked the panties in your mouth, almost as much as your arousal did previously.

Hoseok could feel your calves shaking in his hold, heard how your breath picked up and how you tried to hump against his face.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, he hollowed his cheeks, sucking the nub harshly.

You screamed against the gag as your orgasm crashed into you, your toes curling in your shoes and whole body shuddering in pleasure.

Hoseok delivered little kitten licks to your clit, guiding you through your orgasm until you were shaking and curling away from him.

He stood to his feet, hands fumbling with his belt to pull his pants down to his ankles. His hard cock sprang out, the tip wet with precum and those delicious veins pulsing. You wanted it down your throat.

Hoseok noticed your hungry stare, wrapping a hand around himself to pump his cock a few times. You moaned at watching the action, not so secretly loving when he did that.

He rubbed the head of his cock up and down your folds, slapping it against your sensitive clit. “Want it, baby?” He teased.

You frantically nodded, eyes pleading for him to fuck you. You reached out to wrap your arms around his shoulders, silently asking him to pick you up. He obliged, gripping your thighs and hauling you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist.

He lifted you a little bit higher to be able to grab his cock, lining himself up with your entrance. You took it upon yourself to slide down his cock, groaning as he split you open.

He threw his head back as your slippery walls wrapped around him, the rings on his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs, the slight burn only turning you on more.

He didn’t even have a chance to get himself together before you started bouncing up and down on his cock. He grunted out a strained moan.

“Fuck. That desperate, huh?” Taking control, he started moving his hips, meeting your bounces with his own thrusts. The head of his cock brushed past your sweet spot, that pressure building quickly in your belly again. Hoseok moaned as your walls sucked him back in every time he pulled out. “Bout to cum already? I love this greedy cunt. Always so wet and ready for me.” His teeth bit into your shoulder.

Your pussy gushed around him, your arousal dripping down his balls and causing a wet slap to sound off. Anyone walking past would definitely know what was happening behind these doors.

Hoseok could feel his own orgasm approaching. This little experiment had turned him on more than he thought it would. Seeing you so vulnerable, having your pleasure in the palm of his hand. Fuck, he wished he would have thought of this earlier.

He’d brave a thousand haunted houses if he could do this again.

“Fuck.” He cursed, unwrapping your legs from his waist and turning you around. You made a noise of surprise that shifted into a moan as his cock penetrated you again. You bent over, spreading your legs and arching your back. “I’m gonna cum. You want it? Want my cum deep in this tight cunt?”

Your hand slammed against the mirror, throwing your ass back against him, orgasm building higher and higher. You snaked your other hand between your legs, pressing two fingers to your clit to rub it in quick circles.

You moaned his name, muffled by your gag but he could understand it. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.

“Cum on my cock. Cum all over it.” He groaned, pushing his hips into you one, two, three more times before his cock throbbed and his cum spilled into your clenching walls.

You screamed as your second orgasm hit, sending waves of ecstasy all the way down to your toes. Your legs shook, almost buckling but his grip on you kept you from falling.

Moments passed as you two caught your breaths.

You pulled your panties out of your mouth, your tongue feeling dry and heavy.

Hoseok slowly pulled out of you, his cum dripping out of your spasming hole and making a little puddle on the floor. He felt his cock jump again but any longer in this bathroom and people would really start getting suspicious.

Hoseok tucked himself back into his pants. “Are you okay?” He asked as he went to grab some paper towels to wipe you down.

You nodded. “That was intense. I came so hard.”

“I felt it. You gripped me tighter than usual. I didn’t think you would like this. I was a little nervous honestly.” He admitted.

You adjusted your skirt, checking yourself in the mirror to make sure you didn’t look too fucked out. Obviously you did but hopefully no one would notice.

Turning around to face your boyfriend, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders again to pull him close. Pressing a loud smooch to his lips, you flashed him a bright smile.

“Let’s just hope we finished before the food got to the table.”

You walked out first. Luckily, no one acknowledged you, everyone still absorbed in their meals and conversation.

Once you got back to the table, you sat down, noticing the food and wine were already there. You sipped on your water, sighing as the refreshing drink wet your dry throat.

Hoseok came to sit down a few seconds later. “I’m starving.”

“I didn’t even hear your order but it looks good.”

You both picked up your forks, digging into the food before you.

Your eyes slowly lifted to meet Hoseok’s before laughter erupted between you two.

“It’s cold.” You giggled.

“Should we just get it to go?”

“Sounds good.”

Hoseok spotted the waiter, motioning for him to come over.

“Can we get the check and some—“ He cut himself off at the feeling of your foot running up the inside of his leg. The table was small enough so that your foot could reach his inner thigh, right where his cock rested in his pants.

He glanced over at you, a teasing grin on your face.

Oh you were gonna get it when you got home.

“Can we at least get dessert?” You fluttered your eyelashes. While that sounded innocent enough, he knew better.

“Of course. Can we get that to go too? I have to go home and feed my kitty.”

[heliads]

ok so… i’m totally obsessing over Newt from TMR rn but i’m not sure if u still write for him🤧 but if u do i was thinking maybe something like during bonfire night the reader has had too many special drinks from Gally, accidentally confesses to Newt and lists everything she loves about him and then Newt gets all flustered and stuff (he’s so cute omg) but the reader is too drunk to go back to their own hammock so then Newt carries reader to their hammock but ends up sharing a hammock and then the reader doesn’t remember anything the next morning and then i’ll let u decide the rest😭

gally's special brew as a plot device >> it will always be famous to me

masterlist

In roughly thirty seconds, you’re going to reach a milestone you never thought possible. You’ve been waiting for this for a while now, counting down the days and hours and minutes like you were going to find yourself anywhere other than right here when your self-imposed timer went off. All you’ve got to remember the date is a memory, but given the fact that you only recall so many of those, it was easier to place than one would expect.

An alarm goes off across the Glade, ear-piercing klaxons rattling off of the high stone walls surrounding you. The rest of the boys around you start to amble towards the source of the noise, the Box newly arrived from who knows where, but you stay put for the time being, just breathing in the moment.

One blond boy next to you, your closest friend and favorite person here, nudges you in the leg with his foot. You’re both sitting in the unruly grass, ignoring the press of the green strands against your arms and calves. You have a habit of always wanting to keep him within reach.

“Why aren’t you racing towards the Box?” He asks.

You tilt your head to the side, staring up at the sky. Robin’s egg blue dappled with clouds, it’s the only pocket of space outside the Walls that you’ll likely ever know. “Today marks one year since I showed up here for the first time.”

Newt whistles through his teeth. “Shoot, already? Feels like time has flown. I swore you came up just last month.”

“No, I’ve been keeping count. Twelve months and I’m still here.”

Newt winces. He made a promise to you at the very start that he would get you out in six months, then, when that deadline came and went, he lengthened it to a year. The oath was only sworn because you were nervous about this place when you were still a Greenie and unused to the idea of living and dying here in endless repetition. You’re no happier about that fact now, but you are more used to it, at least.

“Well,” he starts off, “maybe you’re still here, yeah, but Minho and the other Runners are getting closer to finding a way out, I swear. Minho says they’re this close to having mapped the whole thing, then we’ll have an escape route for certain. Just give it another year. You won’t even notice the time passing, I promise.”

It’s kind of Newt to try to distract you again, even though you both know by this point that it’s useless. Minho is getting closer to traveling every pathway of the Maze, yes, but what Newt isn’t mentioning is how little the Keeper of the Runners actually is to finding something useful. Whenever you ask Minho what he’s learned about how to get out of here, he only ever comes up with a blank slate.

Still, harping on that doesn’t exactly make for a good time, so you’ll let yourself play along with Newt’s idea of your inevitable escape from this place for now. He’s losing hope even faster than you, even if he doesn’t tell anyone. It would be good to keep up the pretense.

You eye his leg, the one with the limp, and nod. “Yeah, next year for sure.”

Newt sits in silence for a moment or two longer, then stands up carefully, offering a hand to you. “Come on, then. We’ve got a Greenie to stare at and stuff to unpack from the Box, no time for musing. Besides, we’ve all got to get ready for the bonfire later tonight.”

You accept his offer of help, and when you’re on your feet once more, your smile is back. “I forgot about the bonfire! Oh, that’ll make everything better. Always does.”

Newt grins. “You’re just saying that because it’s the one time a month Alby will let all of us get proper wasted and skip work for the afternoon.”

“Of course I am,” you laugh, “I want to have fun! Is that such a terrible thing?”

Newt slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side as the two of you walk lopsidedly over to the Box opening. The other Gladers have already crowded around the opening, but there’s enough space for the two of you to peer in at the befuddled newcomer inside if you squeeze past a few Track-Hoes.

“No,” he murmurs later, once you’ve almost forgotten what you were talking about, “I don’t think it is.”

Damn right. You’ve looked forward to each Bonfire Night of your full year here with just as much excitement as everyone else. The soaring flames, the delighted shrieks and shouts of your friends, plus Gally’s special brew, everything about the celebration is a joy to behold. You can watch Gally kick the asses of people who should have known better to challenge him, or observe the Greenie as he tries to figure out his name.

Or, better yet, you can sit in a circle of your friends and tell jokes that get progressively worse as the lot of you get progressively more tipsy and tired. The night wears on, the stars burn themselves out above you just trying to catch a glimpse of your magnificently roaring fire, and all is well, as much as it can be around here.

At some point, you look up and you’re sitting alone with Newt towards the outskirts of the gathering. You don’t remember quite when that happened, but you’ve refilled your glass enough times that the memory loss sort of makes sense. Does anything here, though? No, not at all. Not ever.

Newt’s grinning over at you, saying something that you have to focus extra hard to hear. “Are you lucid again?”

“Not entirely,” you beam up at him, “Have I had a lot to drink tonight?”

Newt grimaces. “Probably more than you should have. You’ll be regretting it tomorrow, I can promise you that. Sorry for not cutting you off earlier.”

You shake your head a little too wildly and have to pause for a moment to blink the stars out of your eyes before continuing. “No, that’s not your fault. You don’t have to watch out for me all the time.”

Something almost like hurt plays upon Newt’s features, mixing with the warm glow of the firelight, and it makes you rush to say something so he stops looking so unhappy. “Only if you don’t want to watch out for me, that is. I like having you around. Makes me feel better.”

“Really?” Newt asks, amused.

“Really,” you confirm happily. “You’re my favorite person here by far. Minho teases me about that a lot, actually. He says I should soldier up and just tell you that, but he can’t bully me anymore, because I’m talking about it right now, aren’t I? He’s right, though, I do like you. Oh– I was thinking, Newt, and– and I think I’m okay, staying in the Glade forever, if I’ve got you here with me. You’re the best thing about this place.”

You hadn’t meant to ramble on like that, but the words came easily enough from your throat, and Newt seemed like he really wanted to hear what you were saying, so you went ahead and let him. 

Newt sits for a few minutes in stunned silence before clearing his throat a little too loudly. “Um. Well, I think you should get to bed. Like, now. I think you’re drunk.”

“No,” you protest, “well, I am drunk, yeah, but I’m not just saying that because I’m drunk. I mean it, Newt. I really do.”

Newt’s expression softens. “I know you did, sweetheart. Let’s go to bed anyway, though. I think some rest would be good for you.”

“Alright,” you decide. 

Newt stands up. You try to start walking back with him, but your feet refuse to cooperate on the uneven ground and you end up tripping more than you should. Eventually, Newt laughs quietly and picks you up, easily carrying you back to your hammock. He tries to set you down but you’re seized by the overwhelming panic that he’ll leave you here alone and you complain vehemently.

He’s still in a good temper, though (is it not wonderful to be needed?) and instead shifts so he’s lying down in his hammock instead, you on his stomach. You whisper goodnight to him and he says goodnight back, then a beat and a half later, did you really mean what you said? About me, that is? About how you–

You can’t really pick up what he’s saying, though. He was right about you needing rest, because the gentle swaying of the hammock and the soft beat of his heart under your head is just enough to send you off to sleep. Darkness pulls you under in an instant, and you’re rocked away to the tune of the crickets chirping somewhere in the distance and Newt still mumbling questions against the top of your head.

You can sense your hangover looming like dark clouds on the horizon, signaling a true storm of a day about to wreck you for good, but for now it’s just in the distance, not quite yours, not yet. The terrible feeling is warded off by an odd sense of calm and quiet. It’s warm now, warm and comfortable in your hammock, which is strange. Usually, you wake up cold on mornings in the Glade, but not today. It makes you want to snuggle down further, push off consciousness just a little longer.

Then your hand connects with something that isn’t one of your few allotted threadbare blankets or the knots of your hammock, something soft, like skin. A hand, one that isn’t yours. Your eyes fly open and– well, you don’t remember this, but you’re not exactly going to complain.

Newt is lying next to you, still asleep. You are curled up beside him, must have fallen asleep with your head on his chest. One of his hands is just touching yours, the other is cupping the back of your head to pull you closer to him.

Immediately your brain splits into two warring factions. One half wants to run away quickly, figure out what happened and why you’re here. This isn’t what you’re supposed to be doing, you know. Shuck, Alby would have a fit if he saw the two of you like this. Probably enough to throw you in the Slammer for a couple of hours.

The other part of yourself wants to stay here forever, to close your eyes and make Newt wake up first and handle it. You haven’t felt peace like this in a while. It’s just the two of you, soft and sweet and mostly folded over in sleep. Why should you disturb this? Disturb him? He’ll just be unhappy if you wake him and force him to realize that you’re here. Probably. Unless he’s the one who let you sleep in his hammock, which is more likely and far more terrifying.

Your issue is solved when Newt shifts slightly, rocking the hammock, and wakes up at last. You quickly shut your eyes and feign sleep, but judging by the movement of his chest as he laughs, you were caught in the act.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.” He says.

You reluctantly open your eyes. “Maybe. By any chance, do you know why I’m here and not in my own hammock?”

You might just be kidding yourself, but you swear something almost like disappointment crosses Newt’s face. “You were pretty drunk last night,” he says at last, “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

It’s a decent explanation, but that doesn’t explain why he’s looking at you like he really, really wants you to remember something about the events of the most recent Bonfire Night. “What did I do last night?” You ask slowly.

Newt shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything, trust me.”

“Then what did I say? You’re looking at me like you’re going crazy.”

Newt furrows his brows in a moment of indignation. “What? I’m not– I’m not looking at you like that. Anyway, you might have said a thing or two. Maybe.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Newt, if you keep withholding information from me, I’m going to rock the hammock so much you fall on the ground. What happened?”

He has the audacity to laugh at your threat, as if you weren’t completely serious about it. “Alright, alright. You might have told me that you liked me.”

Your sense of terror, which had faded briefly after Newt woke up, is back in full force. “I did what?”

“You told me you liked me,” Newt repeats, “and I thought– well, you were drunk, so I thought you didn’t mean it, but–”

“I did mean it,” you whisper.

Newt’s eyes are wide when you dare to risk a glance back up at him. “Oh.”

That’s a bad oh. Has to be. You move to get up and try to run away before he can look at you like that anymore, but Newt tightens his grip around your waist, forcing you to lie back down. “Wait, wait. Don’t go. I like you too.”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, “Have for a while. Minho teases me about that too, by the way. No wonder he seems so frustrated about it, he has to listen to both of us moping around even though we both like each other.”

You laugh. “That would be annoying, yes. He has to be happy now, though, we finally told each other about it.”

“That we did,” Newt says, and you can feel the upturned crescent of his lips as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

Maybe you spent a whole year in the Glade without ever seeing rescue. Maybe another year will pass without anything, or maybe five, or ten. Maybe you’ll never leave at all. Still, you’ve got your reasons to be happy after all. They start with him.

maze runner tag list: @rogueanschel, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss, @hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @w1shes43, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope, @fadedver

[ethereal-engene]

hey tayo? but that's appa!

pairing: enhypen!husband maknae line x fem!reader

genre: slice-of-life, husband/father AU, fluff, and attempted humor // warnings: none

summary: how I think the maknae line would react to you showing your kid’s (like the kid is yours and his) hey tayo/billy poco

word count: ~1.5k

note: THANK YOU THANK YOU so much to anon who requested this! I’m sorry for the long wait 😭 I hope you enjoy this <3 your message made my day so much when I got it!! // hyung line ver

Sunoo

You’re in the living room with your child as they watch tayo the little bus on the tv

It’s been a long day with them running around and playing pretend with them. Oh and of course, they spent a lot of time running away from you while trying to put on their clothes

They bring you lots of joy but it can still be tiring

So you settle for some tv time before nap time and you’re on the brink of falling asleep until you hear a familiar tune start to play that instantly wakes you up

It’s the one and only billy poco music video

You hold in your laughter and watch your child’s reaction to it and they have stars in their eyes

They 100% recognize their dad and is having the time of their lives right now

Sunoo is in the other room and when he hears it, he smiles and walks over to y’all

Seeing his child dance to this song makes him really happy and his heart full

So he starts showing his kid how to do the dance and sing his lines

Even goes as far to pick them up and spin them around while singing

“Appa! Appa! You met tayo and his friends?? What were they like? Please tell me so I can tell all of my friends how cool my dad is!!” They excitedly take a seat when sunoo sets them down

Sunoo gently shhhs them and making a motion to calm down

“To answer your question love bug, I did meet them and they were all so friendly and kind. If you promise me to be kinder to mommy and help her out by listening to her, I’ll make sure you get a special gift from tayo! Can you do that for me, love bug?” Sunoo asks while staring at them

They nod so much that you worry their head is gonna roll off. Not long after, they go over to you and apologize for running away earlier

You tell them it’s okay and that you accept their apology

“Now, can we please play the song again?? I really like appa’s voice, it’s so pretty!”

Handing him the remote, he replays it and sits next to you. Sunoo gently lifts your head up so he can move his arm through you & then places your head onto his arm

So your neck is more comfy and you smile at each other

Watching your little bundle of joy enjoy this song is a great memory and one that you both won’t forget

It fills his heart with pride and happiness that he was able to have made something for his kid to appreciate growing up

Bonus, the kid got a happy birthday message AND a message from tayo & his friends telling them that they love them and they should be listen to their parents

Jungwon

As far as I can tell jungwon seems to be pretty chill about singing hey tayo or billy poco

So much that he’s actually the one showing your kid(s) the music video

(gotta switch up the scenario for wonnie🥺)

He’s teaching them the lyrics and how to sing it

Not even gonna lie, you thought you were just hearing things as you were in another room doing another chore for the house

But then as you listen, you recognize that he’s really playing the song that you’re hearing

Curiosity gets the best of you and take a peek out of the door to see them

Your heart melts as you watch them play with jungwon

Trying to dance and sing like their dad 🤧

Jungwon has no shame in his career, even if he had to sing some kid songs

He lets them sing it to him, despite it being off-key

Sooner or later, you join them and ask them if they recognize their “appa”

Not even taking a moment to think, they point to jungwon

“Appa looks like an agi here. He was so cute, but I love appa now too! Appa, how come you met Tayo before I was born?? You could have taken me.” They pout and sulk a little when they remember this fact about their dad

Jungwon looks at you for help but you gesture it’s your probelm not mine

“Oh sweetheart, if I had known you wanted to come I would have brought you. Don’t worry, next time I get to meet Tayo, I’ll bring you with me, is it okay?” He asks them while holding them up in air

“okay okay!! YAY!! Appa you’re the best! Now let me down please!” And of course, jungwon obliged to the request

Not long after, they get tired and you put them down for nap time

Heading over to where Jungwon is, you tell him “Honey, that was a good save there. Sorry I couldn’t help you out, but I honestly wanted to see what’d you say.”

You plant a small kiss on cheek after finishing your sentence and drag him to the couch to nap

“I can’t believe you let fend for myself back there but I gotta say having quick wits and thinking is just a skill I learned from being a leader.”

He places your head on his chest and gives you a forehead kiss before napping with you

Ni-ki

It’s not that Ni-ki hates billy poco or hey tayo, it’s just notttt what he really expected to be doing when he became an idol

Anyways let’s get to the story

You, the kid, and Ni-ki were out and about

Probably shopping at the mall and stopped by a kids shop

The kids shop has a tv on and it’s playing hey tayo

Before Riki even registers it, his child is watching the TV screen with a dazed look on their face

They look at the TV screen and then back to their dad (and repeat the process for a few times)

Riki still hasn’t registered it until his kid runs up to him asking him about it

He is confused as ever like where and how did they learn about this

Riki wanted to pretend it didn’t exist 😭

Before he gets any questions out, you point to the screen and his eyes just pop

He feels like his world is falling apart (he’s so dramatic)

Legit drops down to his knees and hands on his head

Your child thinks they did something wrong and starts to get worried

Runs over to their dad and hugs him

“I’m sorry if I made you sad otōsan . I just wanted to know if you were the same guy on the screen. I didn’t mean to make you cry, please don’t be sad!”

You lovingly smack Riki on the back of the head. MAKING YOUR KID CRY LIKE THAT??

“Riki, if you don’t get your butt up, I’m going to give you something to actually cry about. And bubba, don’t worry. Otōsan isn’t sad, he’s just not happy but don’t worry, we’ll make it all better!”

Slightly scolding him, you gesture him to explain to their child about this

He wipes their tears away and hugs them tightly back.

“Oh bubba, no no. You didn’t make me sad. I was just shocked that this song was still playing. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry for making you feel that way earlier. Yes, I’m in the video, a long time ago I filmed a video and song for tayo and his friends. I’ll tell you more about at home, is that okay?”

They hug him back and nod. “It’s okay otōsan, I still love you and I think you look the coolest! Especially when you had your moment with dancing. Can you teach me how to do it?”

Riki nods and kisses them on the head

“Now let’s get back to shopping!” He says before dragging them around the store and playing with them

Before y’all leave the store after checking out, the employee shyly asks for his signature in which he accepts but cringes when he realizes it’s on a tayo product 😭

You are for sure never letting him forget about these songs for tayo and baby shark. You laugh a bit hard when you see what he has to sign

On the bright side, Riki still feels like he’s on top of the world with his kid reassuring him he looks the coolest (even if it’s a kids song)

thank you so much again to the anon who requested this <3 happy holidays and I hope everyone has a safe new years!!

as always if you liked it, please leave feedback through the notes, send me a dm or an ask, or reblog it with your thoughts in the tag !! they really mean the world to me 💗

signing off with love,

- ash

[mialikeshockey]

Adore You - Mark Estapa

Based on the song “Adore you” by Harry Styles :)

bowling date night with Mark and you can’t do anything but adore the man in front of you.

“You don’t have to say you love me, I just wanna tell you something. Lately you’ve been on my mind. Honey, I’d, I’d walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you. Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do.”

You hear Mark come home after spending the day with the guys. Your puppy was barking like crazy while you could hear Mark saying hi to them.

He went to the lake with them while you and your friends went too but went home sooner. Mark stayed back to help everyone clean up.

Tonight was also date night. Almost every weekend was. No matter how late. It always happened no matter what.

“You ready, love?” Mark questioned walking into the room. “Almost…give me like five more minutes.” You say as you finish up washing your face. He smiles, while sitting down on the bed.

You and Mark went on dates almost every weekend. Either out to restaurants or just going to places like the bowling alley. The bowling alley was a personal favorite.

Seeing his face light up,as he smiles after making a strike. You couldn’t help but adore him. He was honestly the best boyfriend you can even remember having. He’s extremely sweet.

“All ready.” You take his hand, pressing a kiss into his fingers. While heading out the door Mark grabs his keys still not letting go of your hand.

The drive wasn’t to far. Mark mostly just talked about how we wanted to go to the beach again soon. He loves being out in the water. He sometimes reminds me of a man child. He gets so excited over the smallest things and it’s so adorable.

As we got to the bowling alley, we get our shoes and put our names into the board. Mark just put his as “stop sign” and you put yours “ts lover”. You and Mark always joked around with saying you were a puck bunny for him, even though you actually met Mark at a hockey game.

As the night continues, you and Mark were full of giggles and laughs. You loved nights like this. Practice and hockey free. Non of the team there. Just you and your favorite boy.

“LETS GO BABY!” Mark yells after making another strike. You giggle as he turns over all smiley. Mark sits down next to you and you put your head on his shoulder. “Wanna go get ice cream am after this?” He asks softly.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You smiled. “We can finish this game up if you want, or we can go now. It’s up to you sweetheart.”

“We can go now if you want too.” You say turning to him. After you guys returned the shoes and got back to the car.

As the night went on it got pretty late. You and Mark were sitting outside of the ice cream shop. “The sky looks so pretty. All the stars…they are extremely bright.” You say while finishing your ice cream.

liked by markestapa, edwards.73, rutgermcgroarty, and others

yourusername i love you but maybe I love our puppy more 😁

markestapa the puppy ain’t even all that but I love you more THAN THE PUPPY. 🥲

^ edwards.73 aye don’t do my bud like that Estapa.

^ markestapa be•tray•al : the action of betraying one's country, a group, or a person; treachery. "the betrayal by the king by his daughter"

rutgermcgroarty why didn’t I get icecream.

^ luca.fantilli bro fr like??

^ mackie.samo we just ain’t cool enough man 🤧

^ markestapa why do u guys comment on all my gfs posts 😐

^ lhughes_06 bc she’s better than u?

^ markestapa bruh my own teammate.

^ edwards.73 dw bro ur still my bf

^ markestapa good 😍

^ yourusername damn. My bf js got taken 😪

——————————————————————

hi sorry ik my posts have been rlly bad lately I have had no motivation whatsoever and anything I come up with I don’t like and I hide in my drafts but Lunas over and when she’s over she forces her motivation on me 🥲 (not rlly she just talks about writing and than I think of something)

But anyways me and her are doing face masks rn and listening to music and it’s 4am 😍 alr bye bye ilyg

tagging some ppl - @lunaaaaaa-nothere @jeromes-scars

[lovelyhan]

kwannie w a corruption is my fav thing ever … i’ll never shut up abt it >_< he just loves cute things … “that’s my cute girl” … and he goes feral when he sees u wear anything w lil flowers on it :c

01:12 — SEUNGKWAN

he's finally debuting on this blog 🤧 also heads up that i'm Well Aware that sk's bday is in january but just roll w me on this one ok?

seungkwan likes cute things.

from adorable puppies to frilly dresses; from afternoon tea parties and dainty flower arrangements—his affinity for all things cute is something a lot of people know about him, but don't really think twice about.

so when he brings you to this year's birthday dinner, no one really bats an eyelash at the way you're dressed. everyone knows seungkwan loves dolling you up. always decorating you in those cute babydoll dresses that flutter across your thighs, hair adorned with pretty flower pins, and a light sheen of makeup that makes your pouty lips all the more delectable.

god, those lips... it's already a difficult for him to let his other friends see you when you look like the epitome of adorable. but when you keep acting so shy and bashful every time someone compliments your outfit? seungkwan can hardly wait for all the formalities to end so he can get you alone in your shared hotel room again—doing things that are the furthest thing from cute.

he finally gets what he wants hours after wining and dining with his friends—with you giggling in the hallway as you drag your boyfriend into the privacy of your room.

seungkwan can't help the way his heart momentarily swells at how breathaking you look. you've only had one glass of champagne, but the alcohol has colored your cheeks a lovely shade of red—further emphasized by how your cheekbones puff out as you beam at him lovingly.

it's in times like this when he can't wrap his head around how he managed to end up with someone as otherworldly as you. but when the door to the hotel room clicks shut and you immediately spread yourself out on the queen-sized bed, all those wholesome thoughts are gone in a flash.

"i've been itching to give you your present, kwannie," you giggle as you spread your thighs, tugging the hem of your babydoll dress to reveal what you've been hiding underneath. "i think you'll really like it."

seungkwan nearly chokes on his own breath when he catches a glimpse of the white lace of your underwear. he's no stranger to seeing you in such intimate fabric—silk and lace were his favorites—but the dainty red roses embroidered on the crotch area are enough to make his brain short-circuit.

fuck. he likes cute things—adores them way too much. but you in particular love to drive him just a little more insane with each passing day.

"what a pretty baby," he groans, letting himself join you on the mattress as he helps you out of your dress. when he sees the same embroidery patterns stitched across the matching bra, he hisses between his teeth. "all this for me?"

"you deserve it," you purr, guiding one of his big hands to cup your throbbing heat through your panties. "happy birthday."

with the last threads of his self-control finally snapping, seungkwan lunges for your sweet lips—tasting the peach lip gloss on his tongue as he pries your mouth open. you let out a quiet whine that he swallows with another kiss, pushing your underwear to the side so he can glide his lithe fingers along your wet slit.

"you're drenched, sweetheart," he notes with a laugh that has you pouting against his lips.

seungkwan brushes his fingertips along your entrance, gathering enough slick before spreading it across your puffy clit. your reaction is most adorable—a buck of your hips and another whine reverberating in your chest.

"kwannie," you whimper, hooking one of your legs around his waist to bring him closer. "i've been wet all night. wanted you to come unwrap your present while we were at dinner."

"dirty girl. you wanted me to take you in front of all my friends? is that it?" your boyfriend gives your pussy a playful but firm slap, making you jolt on top of the mattress as another rush of slick trickles out of your needy hole.

"uh-huh," you babble, grinding your cunt against his hand with parted lips. "want them to know i'm yours."

gods above. he only has so much self-control.

while others might've completely caved and stuck their dicks inside of their adorable girlfriends, seungkwan likes seeing you fall apart on his fingers first before he fucks you dumb with his cock.

you're always so receptive when he preps you like this. whining so cutely when he rubs your clit with just the right pressure. the way you frame the his name around such a pretty moan as he pumps his long fingers into sopping cunt is all the incentive he needs before feeling your walls clamp down on his length.

"f-fuck," seungkwan stutters—thighs clapping against your ass with each forward thrust. the sight of you still wearing the dainty lace set as he takes you from behind makes him feel just a little more feral. "that's my cute girl. taking me like i'm made for you."

the squelch of your pussy is the most obscene sound he's heard all day and your boyfriend decides he wants more of it. seungkwan amps up the cadence of his strokes as he presses your head down on the mattress. but as much as he wants to pull your hair to keep you in place, he wants to spare those pretty flower pins even more.

"baby's the prettiest little thing in the world," he whispers raspily in your ear, one of his palms groping your breasts as he continues hitting it from behind. "you'll let me finish inside you, right? then you'll keep these cute panties on so my cum won't go to waste."

the mere mention of being filled has you clenching even tighter around him—desperate moans echoing across the four corners of your hotel room.

"need it, seungkwan," you nearly sob into the sheets—reaching between your thighs to find your clit before timing your rubbing with your lover's movements. "need you to stuff me full of cum so badly."

who is he to deny his pretty girl such a desperate request?

your boyfriend's hot cum surges into your cunt in thick globs, dragging a long-winded moan out of your lips as the sensation of being filled pushes you over the edge.

seungkwan inhales sharply when he feels you milk him for each drop of his release. but no matter how overstimulated the both of you are, he continues to fuck his cum into your sloppy pussy. as if to make sure it'll take you days to sweat him out.

when his vigor has all been spent, seungkwan slips out of your hole carefully—so quick to pull your delicate lace panties back in place before tugging the fabric against your ruined pussy. the material catches across your sensitive clit, making you moan out on instinct.

your boyfriend quietly observes the way his cum is starting to stain the pure white lace before his eyes flicker to your fucked out face. still panting and squirming like you want more even though he's already given you so much.

but hey, he's nothing if not a fool for his adorable baby.

⟢ end notes: Obviously i got carried away with writing this 🦧 but that is ok bc everyone deserves to be headass for corruption kink seungkwan 🥰🥰 thank you for sending this in, mika my love so sweet <3 i enjoyed experimenting w kwannie more than i thought i would !

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

love me tender...or maybe not - nectar

pairing: cupid bf!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre: smut, minor fluff - minors dni.

warnings: sub!wonwoo, mild switch!reader, 69, oral (both receiving), cum play, teasing, slight discomfort (not life-threatening), masturbating, reader is sort of peeking onto wonwoo

word count: ~2k

Author’s note: was too bored to write a summary atp🤧

series taglist: @wonwussy @duhnova​ @flowerwonu @junkissed @heartkyeom @enhacolor @misssugarlips

nsfw taglist: @rosecult​ @bibinnieposts​ @ovai​ @littlemisssarcastic21​ @tinkerbell460​ @jonghyuns-husband @romromthedeer​ @y00nzin0​ @llsiriusminorisll​ @booyouwhore17​​

© multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. ​no reposting or translating without permission.

“Here’s your coffee” Wonwoo hands over the paper cup to the client, a small thank you echoing as he hands over the money to pay for it. The man disappears out of the door and he lets out a breath, the shop finally empty - a wonderful chance for a small break before the real rush hour starts.

“Do you think we have time to brew two cups for ourselves before hell begins?” Seungkwan nudges Wonwoo’s shoulder, the latter nodding in agreement with a laugh. “Oh definitely, the cup I had before leaving home wasn’t nearly enough”

“Fair enough” the younger man sighs, “The usual?”

“Yep”

His phone dings and he fishes it out of his pocket, opening the notification, his heart jumping at the sight.

It’s a cute selfie of you with a peace sign and your lips formed in a pout, looking glossy thanks to your lip balm, your friend posing right behind you, a few minutes before your class starts.

It’s supposed to be a cute selfie - yet Wonwoo is looking at your lips like it’s the most delicious dessert in the universe. He still can’t take the image of your soft, plump lips kissing the crevices of his abs and licking the cum off his skin. He can feel his cheeks heating up, his breathing quickening, hands getting clammy. He’s getting dizzy and nothing can snap him out of it.

“Wonwoo? Are you okay, man?” Seungkwan notices his coworker in distress, putting down the freshly made coffee on the counter. “I….I don’t know” Wonwoo stutters.

“Dude, you look like you’re about to faint”

“I-I might be feverish”

“Go home then!”

“What? But people will start coming in soon!”

“I can’t risk you fainting in the middle of your shift, Wonwoo” Seungkwan retorts and the older man sighs in defeat.

“F-Fine, just…make sure you won’t be alone”

“No worries, I’ll call Seokmin in”

“Okay, see you next time” Wonwoo haphazardly takes off his apron, picks up his stuff and exits the shop, taking several breaths to calm himself down - but it isn’t working.

He needs to go home and he needs to go now.

You return home, throwing the keys on the pot right after locking the door. You take off your shoes, running your fingers over your scalp, grazing your nails and letting out a satisfied moan. 

Coincidentally, you hear another moan from the far end of the apartment, a much deeper, yet needier one.

It catches you off by surprise, because you’re sure as fuck it’s Wonwoo’s voice - but he wasn’t supposed to be home so early. 

You carefully make your way towards the bedroom, the moans getting louder, just like your heartbeat. You notice a few dark pink feathers scattered on the floor, carefully avoiding stepping on them. The sight you’re greeted with once you step foot into the bedroom is one you never thought you’d witness.

Wonwoo is kneeling on your shared bed, one hand perched on the pillow and the other tightly fisting his cock, his dark pink wings almost shivering on his back. His face is flushed and glistening with a thin layer of sweat, head hunched over the screen of his phone. His hand coated with his release, probably from his first orgasm. Or more than one.

“Wonwoo?” you softly call out his name and he gasps loudly when he notices you standing next to the bedroom door frame. 

“Y-Y/N? I- Fuck- I’m so sorry-” he stutters while trying to cover himself with haphazard motions, his phone forgotten on the pillow. You notice it and catch it with your hand, Wonwoo’s pleas to put it down doing nothing to stop you.

Your eyes widen when you see the selfie you sent him earlier this morning, your lips all puckered up, but a very menacing thought crosses your mind.

“Care to explain, angel?”, you turn your attention to your boyfriend, who is still trying to salvage the remnants of his dignity. “I…I couldn’t resist”, “Resist what, pretty boy?”, you climb on the bed and over him, “It was just a picture of me”, “Not just a picture!”, Wonwoo blurts out, “Oh? Want to tell me more, then?”, you raise your eyebrow at him and he gulps, his wings ruffling nervously.

“I was at the cafeteria….You sent me the pic and I…I lost it” he admits, “Your lips looked so pretty, I couldn’t help but think about you kissing me, kissing my entire body with them” he breathes heavily, the same lightheadedness he felt in the cafeteria overcoming him again.

“Baby, it’s okay, stay with me” you drop the teasing act and relax your stance, trying to comfort Wonwoo. “I-I’m good, sweetheart” he reassures you, his hands absentmindedly resting on your waist, “Oh no, I stained your shirt-” he notices the freshly soiled fabric with his cum, embarrassment washing over him once more.

You chuckle at his behavior and raise his stained hand, licking off any excess of his previous release, moaning softly at the familiar strawberry flavor.

“Y/N, please, don’t torture me like that” Wonwoo whines, his cock twitching again. “What do you want me to do then?”

Here it is. The chance he was waiting for. And he won’t let it slide away.

“You…had the chance to taste me before”

 “Yes…?”

“I want to taste you too, Y/N”

You’re pretty sure Wonwoo is trying to kill you at this point with the things he says these last few days.

“Are you saying…that you want to give me head, angel?” you bite back a smirk. 

“Is that how it’s called?” Wonwoo asks bashfully and your lips betray you, forming into a grin, “Then yes, I want to give you head. But I also wish you could do the same” he bites his bottom lip. 

“You want me to give you head at the same time? you ask him with a slightly teasing tone, “Want my lips wrapped around your pretty cock, just like you were imagining a few moments ago?”

Wonwoo purses his lips shut, turning his head away and feeling shameful for letting such vulgar thoughts take over him. 

“Baby?” you put your thumb and pointer finger on his jaw, softly turning it to face you, “You don’t have to be shy with me”

“I’m not shy, I’m….ashamed”

“Ashamed? Why?” 

“Greed is a sin…And I’m being greedy with my lover” Wonwoo gulps down nervously, a frown forming on your face. 

“You aren’t being greedy, Wonwoo, you’re simply asking your lover to provide you with pleasure - that isn’t a sin" you retort, “Besides, it’s not like I won’t get anything out of it” you let out a chuckle, your heart swelling when you notice your boyfriend’s shoulders and wings finally relax.

“You’re….not wrong”, he thinks for a split second.

“Can…we start then?”

“Thought you’d never ask” you grin and get up, removing every single clothing article from your body, the cupid’s eyes widening at the sight of your stark naked body. 

You waste zero time climbing over Wonwoo, your bare pussy hovering over his face and your lips centimeters away from the tip of his cock.

"You ready, angel?"

"Yes, please"

"Good boy" you giggle and dart your tongue out, experimentally kitten licking his tip. The tiny gasps heard from the cupid's mouth becomes the fuel for you to lower your mouth on his shaft, taking him whole.

"Ah, fuck!" Wonwoo curses, his mind starting to fog from pleasure. You aren't any better though - you've barely started sucking him off yet you're already bobbing your head, lips tightly locked around his cock.

He can see your pussy pulsing, your entrance clenching around emptiness, as if it's waiting for something-

Wonwoo doesn't think twice and flattens his tongue on your core, slowly dragging it from your clit to your hole, tasting your essence for the very first time.

His brain short-circuits as soon as the salty bitterness hits his taste buds, his eyes nearly rolling back to his head - which only makes him want to lick you more and more. 

"Wonwoo, fuck, do that again, please" you beg him, your hand pumping his cock in a languid pace, swiveling your ass in an attempt to get his tongue back on your pussy. 

He feels his heartbeat quickening and his cock twitching in your palm, but he can only focus on the heaven that exists between your legs, waiting for him to be devoured like a dainty meal, savored like the finest nectar in the universe.

He wordlessly complies and supports his torso on his elbows, propping himself to force his mouth on your cunt, his tongue lapping at your flowing juices, hungrier than before.

His moans spur you on to suck him until he's cumming undone underneath you. You don't hesitate to deepthroat his cock, not caring about the drool spilling on him - he just tastes so fucking good, so fucking sweet.

"Baby you taste so good, can't s-stop licking you"

"Please don't, Nonu, please don't stop, you're doing so good"

God, the praise alone could kill him.

He can feel his wings spasming, struggling beneath him, his cock threatening to spill in your mouth, but something in him tells him to push you closer to your orgasm, see you crumble down before he does.

So he fists the sheets and flattens his tongue on your clit, swiping it sideways as the bridge of his nose glides through your folds, keeping his head locked on your pussy.

"W-Wonwoo-" your moan is cut short, replaced by short, whiny gasps, your lower half trembling from your orgasm, legs feeling weak and falling down on the mattress, nearly suffocating him with your pussy.

"Y/N, y-your hand-" Wonwoo chokes as you mindlessly keep sliding your palm over his sensitive cock, the wet tip perched on your soft cheek. You're too lost in the afterglow of your orgasm that you don't stop until his cock explodes, thick, pearly white ropes of cum staining your cheek, some of it dripping on your lips.

The both of you are laying on the bed, only your labored breaths echoing in the bedroom. Your tired laugh changes the atmosphere, followed by Wonwoo's deeper one.

"For a cupid, you are really fucking messy, Nonu" you get up and face him, his eyes widening when he notices your cum covered face. You raise your hand, fingers about to pick up the cum off your cheeks, but Wonwoo's hand on your wrist stops you from doing so.

"Allow me" he says and replaces his fingers with yours, his pads gliding over your cheek, slowly picking up his cum. 

You lean forward, trying to lick it off, but he's faster than you and slides his fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean. 

"You little-" 

"What? You said I taste like strawberry and I wanted to confirm it" he defends himself and you throw him a nasty glare, making him smile bashfully.

"That doesn't mean you should stop cleaning me up, angel" you reprimand him and he purses his lips, continuing to clean your face up with the same tactic, occasionally letting you lick off the remnants of his orgasm.

"I don't think that's the right way to clean up someone"

"And what would you suggest?"

"A shower? Obviously?"

"Well, that will happen too, but it's more fun that way, isn't it?"

"I…cannot deny that" Wonwoo shyly agrees with you, wings ruffling close to his back.

"Your wings darkened again"

"Y-Yeah, they did"

"Do you regret it?"

A small pause, accompanied by a smile and a pair of wings stretching quietly, as if he's trying to show the now deep magenta color they are adorned with.

"Not at all" he replies, “Although I’m afraid this might prove to be quite the challenge for me”

“A challenge? Care to elaborate, sweet cupid?”

“How am I supposed to keep myself in check, now that I got the chance to savor the heaven that rests between your pretty legs?”

His words make your heart race with supersonic speed, your face heating up and your walls clenching at the very much honest compliment he just made.

“Well... Who said you have to keep yourself in check?” 

[this-is-what-makes-us-fandoms]

In Darkness There Is Light || Across the Spider-Verse ||

Remember when you’re lost in the darkness. Look for the light.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Warnings: mentions of death of a loved one, female reader (sorry guys, i’ll make male related content if anyone asks for!)

Words: 1.2K

A/N: Tiktok back at it again with the inspiration 🤧 Hope you guys enjoyed this and let me know if you want more.

Miguel was shrouded in darkness as he sat in his office, the only light coming from the screen in front of him. He was rewatching old footage, happier times before his daughter was ripped away from him. The images on the screen were of her last birthday before the universe collapsed. Gabriella was laughing at him, his face covered in frosting after she managed to trick into being the one whose face was pushed in the cake. He was laughing too, wiping away some of the frosting off his face and smearing it over her nose. He remembered that so well.

“You got me good, Gabi,” he said, letting out a small laugh with her. “But now we match.”

She laughed again and kissed her dad on the cheek, not caring if more frosting got on her.

The screen went black right after, leaving Miguel to sit in complete darkness. He didn’t care, shoulders slumped with a sullen look on his face. He didn’t have the energy to play another clip, already feeling too numb to do so. So he just sat there in silence. He didn’t even move when he heard someone step in, nor when a familiar scent filled his nose.

You walked through the dark room, your enhanced vision letting you see through as you searched for Miguel. You weren’t surprised to find him shrouded in darkness, it was basically his natural habitat. You also knew what he did here. Holing himself up and rewatching videos of the other life he once had. Sometimes he would coop himself up in here for days without any of you hearing from him.

During those times you made sure to check up on him, bringing him something to eat. It's what you were doing now, gripping the bag of food firmly in your hand. You found him sitting in front of his cyberdesk, staring blankly at nothing. You could only assume he had been watching videos again.

“Miguel,” you called out gently. “I brought you something to eat.”

He didn’t answer and you sighed, approaching him further. “You’ve been in here all day. You should eat something.”

“I’m not hungry,” he finally answered.

“Hungry or not, you still need food in your system. I brought you sopa de albondigas,” you said, a slight accent in your words. “I think I said that right… I figured something light would suffice.”

“Keep it. I said I’m not hungry,” he argued.

You sighed and set the bag down beside him. “Miguel…”

“I told you I’m not hungry. Leave me alone, I have important things to do.”

He turned to look at you, harsh glare on his face and voice raising some. He could yell at you all he wanted, you weren’t budging. “Please… eat something and talk to me.”

He stayed silent, looking back ahead and making you sigh heavily as you took a seat next to him. You reached your hand out and grabbed onto his, finding no reaction from him. You held his large hand in both of yours, finding it amazing how one hand of his equated to both of yours. You both had the same abilities, same strength that came with it yet he was significantly so much bigger. Miguel shocked you when he grabbed one of your hands, fingers lacing with yours. You smiled to yourself, gently squeezing his hand as the two of you sat in silence. It was almost peaceful, as if this is what he needed from you.

You couldn’t just sit in silence and after a moment, you spoke. “Have I ever told you how I lost my brother?”

He didn’t say anything but the shake of his head told you to continue. “It was just after I got bitten by the spider. I couldn’t have been Spider-Woman for more than 3-4 months. My brother, he was a detective, you can guess how that panned out.”

“My brother, he was all I had after our parents died. He practically raised me. I loved him, I admired him, I wanted to be a hero just like him. So when I got bit, I took it as a sign that I was meant to be just like him, even if he didn’t want me anywhere near police work.”

You paused for a moment, looking down at the tangled hands in your lap. You hadn’t noticed that your thumb was brushing over the back of Miguel’s. You knew it was meant to soothe you instead of him.

“Living with a detective made it easy to be Spider-Woman, everything he knew about a case so did I. One day I was tracking down a criminal organization that he had information on, I didn’t know he was doing the same… alone. My idiot brother thought he could take them down alone so he didn’t call for backup. He was wrong.”

You paused again, blinking rapidly to clear away any tears that threatened to spill. It's been years now since your brother died, but his death still weighed heavily on you. You never talked about it but this was a special case. You wanted Miguel to know that you knew what he was going through.

“Seeing him there, where he wasn’t supposed to be, I got distracted. My senses went all haywire that I didn’t… I didn’t see the bullet from one of the members. They got away and my brother was left bleeding out. He… He died in my arms, I couldn’t do anything to stop the blood.”

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves down and your tears. You felt Miguel squeeze your hand, this time it was him who was providing you comfort. You looked at him, his red eyes staring into yours, his eyes telling you how sorry he was. You gave him a smile, one to tell him that you were okay and continued.

“I gave up being who I am for sometime after that. It was too hard being a hero for the city when I couldn’t even save my own brother.”

“What brought you back?” he asked, finally speaking after all that time.

“It was something he used to say to me, whenever things became too much. It's funny, back then I thought it was just something he said to make me feel better. I didn’t know how much impact it would actually have as Spider-Woman,” you told him.

“What did he say, your brother?”

“He used to say; when you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light. And he was right, I just had to look for the light. I put the suit back on and became the hero my city needed. Then I found others like me, other spider-men, women, all in between. I found you, and it was like everything lit up again. I found my light. So, I know you will too.”

You gave him another smile, warmer this time and brought his hand up. You pressed your lips to it, kissing it gently before letting go and standing up. You didn’t want to keep him any longer than you should.

“Don’t forget to eat, okay?” you said, taking your leave after.

Miguel watched you leave, thinking back to your words and the cord it struck. You were right, he was finding his light again.

[ssahotchnerr]

hello sweet katie!! i hope ur well <3 not so much a request but more thoughts that are domestic specific :’)

thinking about sharing a bedroom with aaron & the intimacy of morning/bedtime routines :’) making the bed together in the morning, banter about who can use the shower/bathroom first, making coffee for one another, undressing/dressing together, laughing at each other in the mirror when your mouths are covered in toothpaste 💙💙

or the silent & gentle undressing of one another if it’s been a long day, running the shower/bath for the other, casual touches on the arm or waist to move one another to the side to reach a bathroom cabinet or something in a dresser drawer, pulling back the sheets/blanket to sleep together 🥰

also thinking about aaron knowing how you like your laundry folded, learning to cook your favorite meals because it makes you happy, bringing you not one but two bouquets of flowers so you can keep one in the house & one at work (if work allows :’)), sneaking extra snacks in the shopping cart at the grocery store to see if you’ll notice, picnics in the park with you & Jack during the warmer weather, kissing you in car just because 🦋🦋

idk just full of domestic feels & im sad that we didn’t get to see more of that side of him 🤧 if i think of anything more, i’ll share <3

au revoir for now, mon amie 😚

-🧡

everything you just said 😭 perfection.

the intimacy of waking up in the morning 🥹 it's a daily occurrence that aaron makes fun of you for hogging the blanket while the two of you are making the bed - it's always bunched up on your side. or every so often, you manage to take possession of aaron's pillow in the middle of the night. so when the two of you wake up, he's always so confused on how you managed to do that ??? like how do you possibly steal the pillow from underneath his head while sleeping 😭 and as the two of you are brushing your teeth, you both discuss your plans for the day <333 you have an appointment to go to, aaron has to attend a meeting that he's absolutely dreading, jack has a doctor's appointment, etc.. and if anyone else was listening, they wouldn't be able to comprehend any of it - the two of you are basically incoherent due to mouths filled with toothpaste/talking while brushing teeth, but since it's habit, and because both of you know each other like the back of your hand, you can understand each other perfectly 😭 AND whoever get's ready first gets to wake up jack, so the two of you are racing each other to do so hehe <3333 just 😭 you finishing first, then booking it out of your bedroom with aaron is trying to stop you by grabbing your waist from behind, both giggling like absolute idiots down the hall to jack's room 🥰 (i now have the desperate need to turn this into a whole fic omg omg)

aaron is a sucker for physical touch i'll say it forever 😭 he loves having a hand on you at all times - lingering touches, hand on your back as he passes, hand on your thigh during meals or in the car, or simply your hand in his. and he always finds a way to touch you, no matter where the two of you are <333 never needs a reason to kiss you, he'll plant one of you out of nowhere. hehe and every time he does any of that, you turn into a blushing mess, so that's only another reason for him to do so 🥹 and likewise, he loves showering/taking baths with you. just being close in all ways, shapes and forms >>>> and since work can call him away at any time :( he'll take advantage of all the time he gets with you, and throughout cases, he's looking forward to coming home to you and being attached to your hip once again <3

omg he's so mindful of your preferences it's insane. he picks up on things you don't even mention. the laundry example 😭 not only does he know your preferred way of folding, he knows exactly how you like it to be put away - what goes in what drawers, what gets put into drawers versus the closet, he even knows how you organize your shoes. when you opened a drawer after he put away laundry, very soon after you first moved in, you were absolutely astounded at what you found - socks tucked together next to your underwear, sleep shirts folded on the right side. specifically the right. and UGH your heart just about burst out of your chest because he just silently noticed that's how you like it, and so he'll make an effort - that's how it'll be <333

as for flowers 🤭😭 the two bouquets 😭 hehe your coworkers are always gushing how you have the most perfect man whenever there's fresh flowers on your desk, and how jealous they are their partners never think to do the same 😭 and sometimes those new flowers just randomly appear on your desk AHHH you immediately whip out your phone to text aaron - "flowers again?🥺" because no matter how many times you receive them, they'll always surprise you. and like the drunk in love idiot aaron is he always replies with something cheesy 🙄🥰 like 'anything for my flower. so glad you love them' 😭😭😭

thank you so much for sharing and please continue to do so!!!!!!!!!!! UGH the cm writers completely robbed us of domestic aaron it makes me so :( >:(

[liliansun]

can only imagine being fwb with dream esp when you eventually go out on a date and they get jealous asf

you can imagine it,, i’ll just write it for you 🫣 (minors dni!!)

mark fwb : pissed bc you’re not texting him back. pissed bc you posted a pic on your social w some guy he knows he’s better than. pissed bc he’s comparing himself to someone he doesn’t know. pissed when he checks your location hours after you left him on read and sees you’re home. pissed as he drives to your house and lets himself in and finds you alone (thankfully he thinks) and is even more pissed he’s in this endless cycle with you as you two end up fucking for hours bc he’s pissed you thought you’d find better than him.

renjun fwb : he’s not showing how badly it’s eating at him bc you’re on a date with someone else. he knows you’re not exclusive, he knows he has no actual claim over you,, that doesn’t stop him from sitting in his car outside of your apartment waiting for you to come home. and when you do, he’s meeting you at the door for what was supposed to be a talk about what you two were,, at least on his end. instead, he’s shoving his cock down your throat and wiping the tears away with his thumb as the whole reason, at least in your head, for him coming over was to talk,, but you’re not doing much talking. 🤧

haechan fwb : he’s insane,, at least that’s what he’s told when he watches your location and follows you to your date,, sitting in his car till you leave alone and follows you home. he waits for you to go inside before he follows behind and lets himself in. he hears you showering and he yet again lets himself in. ignoring the shrieking from your end, he joins you in the shower and swears he’ll explain later before he’s shoving his cock into your sweet pussy and whining how you’re his and only his. whining about fuck this friendship and that he’s in love with you,, pussy whipped he is. whining in your ear that he’s going to get you pregnant one day so you’ll never go on another date with anyone that’s not him. (perhaps. i got carried away.)

jeno fwb : he’ll just ghost you when he finds out you went on a date with someone else. when you’re finally fed up with him being radio,, you’ll meet up at his apartment and corner him to give you answers as to why tf he’s been ignoring you?? and he’ll give you an answer,, fat cock stretching you out over his couch as he holds you in place w his arms wrapped around your frame. he’ll grunt out his words into your ear while his hips ruthlessly pound against your own. he’ll tell you you must’ve lost your fucking mind thinking about seeing anyone else when his cock was right there waiting for you to sit on it this whole time. making sure you never make that mistake again

jaemin fwb : he’s patient,, sending you a text that’s something along the lines of ‘come over when you’re done’. he’d let you in, ask how your date was which throws you off?? he’d listen to you complain how dry and unfunny he was. he’d let you vent and when you’re done, he’ll remind you why you’re his. he’ll kiss you sensually,, grope you with just enough force that has you dripping by the time he peels your panties away from your sticky core. he’ll fuck you with his tongue before he even lets you get a taste of his cock. he’ll remind you while making sweet,, slightly rough,, love that you’re his and you’ll always be his. not once will he admit he was jealous,, but them shakira hips don’t lie

[whoblewboobear]

At this point Wednesday and Thursday are the highlights of my week like I’m vibrating with excitement when I know Wednesday at like 7 something I’ll be sitting down to giggle at my favorite show like I- 🤧

I don’t always watch d20 seasons as they’re airing but for fantasy high, it gets so woven into my schedule when a new one drops 👏 like not to get super sentimental (I’m absolutely going to in a read more. Plus the season is ending soon and I’m emo about it but also just excited in general to get all the answers) but this season really means a lot to me. Absolutely none of them will see this (thank god) but the intrepid heroes & BLeeM mean so much to me. They made a show that is so funny and beautiful and kind and so stupid at its core and it just goes to show how lovely they are. The impact they’ve made on the actual play community is so huge. For me a lot of actual play was very intimidating to get into because of huge backlogs or the kinds of stories being told weren’t for me but goddamn, d20 just hits on so many levels. In part due to the storytelling and also just holy shit everyone at the table shows up and cares so much about who they’re playing and their place in the world and the story they’re helping be told. It’s just 🤧💖 I hope one day I’m half the dnd player that Brennan, Emily, Lou, Murph, Siobhan, Zac, and Ally are. They truly inspire me so much.

-

-

-

**TW For SA, trauma, mental health + personal shit etc under the cut**

I stopped watching d20 for a long while. Give or take a year or two? I know it was around the zoom season era. Me and A guy I was really close friends with bonded over dnd and d20 and it was one of the main things we had in common. The night he SA’d me we were watching FH S1 from the beginning. And I think that kinda.. like I didn’t watch d20 because it brought up a lot of thoughts of him and that night and just so much ptsd.

D20 was my favorite form of escapism during hard times and it really sucked to lose that for so long. When d20 Junior year was announced I decided it was time to get back into the show because I missed it and I loved it and I couldn’t let him make me so scared that I never went back to what gave me so much joy. I introduced the show to him in the first place, I could reclaim.

I watched freshman year after I dropped out of art school because my parents and I couldn’t afford another loan and I was really lost. It took my mind off a lot of it thankfully.

Sophomore year aired when I started going to community college. I had a night-time psych class that would end about half an hour before the streams would start so it gave me motivation to get through it because I had something to look forward to after. Now junior year is airing while I’m dealing with a lot of health stuff + depression + job stress (now that I write it all out, both college stresses passed and I did end up getting a decent-ish, albeit very shitty job in graphic design, so I know there’s light at the end of the tunnel so to speak, this’ll pass)

I don’t know if they’ll ever do a senior year/graduation season but if they do, I’ll be there still excited and brimming with joy and anticipation for more d20 Wednesdays to come. 💖