#just think of how sour Error would be about that

[river-crowned-king]

Just saying guys,,,

If Ink and Error both get into the finals,,,,

But then Ink beats Error and wins tumblr sexy man,,,,,,,,,

I don’t know about y’all but to me that would be HILARIOUS

Just think of the possibilities guys. Imagine the art that would come from that. That shit would get eaten UP like o m G

[keen-li]

I RE-DO | JJK

18+ minors DNI

ONESHOT.

synopsis: Young love is so sweet, but people never realize how foolish it can be (sometimes), especially for you and Jungkook. You and Jungkook were the typical high school sweethearts, and after school, you thought you were grown enough to get married. Your families disagreed, but you still went through with it. It was fine for the first year; you were still in the honeymoon phase. But soon, reality caught up, and you both had to go to university. You attended the same university, thinking it would make things easier. Many obstacles came your way, but you were still going strong, afraid of proving your family right. However, after two years of unhappiness, you both called it quits. Unfortunately, your relationship ended on a sour note, and the man you once loved turned into someone you never wanted to see again. So, what happens now, when you face him one more time after many years of being away from him.

playlist: Lewis Capaldi - Before You Go, Lewis Capaldi - Someone You Loved, Sia - Bird Set Free. Billie Eilish - wildflower, The weeknd - out of time

Ex husband Jungkook x ex-wife reader.

Lovers to I-don’t-like-you to strangers.

WC: 24.k [whoa.]

Warnings: <heavy?> ANGST, ANGST, ANGST. flashbacks (light), disagreements, young marriage, Jungkook is a lawyer, reader is a doctor. No accurate description of law or reality. crying, lol. very much angsty of angst. forgive any errors you encounter; it is revised but oh gosh there's only so much I can notice.

a/n: you might hate me for this one lol. but it is what it is.

As you walk into the room, you’re taken aback by the figure of the man you see. He's the last person you expected. it's been a while since you've seen him, a very long one at that.

The last time you saw him was well...

When you were with Jungkook.

Taehyung hadn't noticed you when you walked in. Your mask and scrubs doing a perfect job at hiding your identity. You wonder if he'd remember you. He surely would, it’s not like a million years have gone by.

and though he hasn't noticed you yet, you do notice him. The thing that catches your eye is how he's definitely grown out of his teenage face. His features are more chiseled. It suits him. Makes him look more matured.

A lot seems to have changed: he's married and now having a baby. Taehyung having a baby? You and Jungkook would've never thought. The local party boy settling down and starting a family, that's news.

You've grown to understand that people change though, you yourself as an example. You were kind of the typical party girl in your college days. Nothing too crazy though but you definitely enjoyed your liquor and music. Now you've changed and grown more reserved. Did you plan on it? No, it just happened, and you grew out of that life for some reason.

It's lost to you how Taehyung underwent his metamorphosis. Whether he wanted to or just like you "just happened", has you wondering. Your brain doesn't bother you too much about it.

But one thing your mind keeps on loop is if Jungkook has changed too and if so, how much? Did he ever grow to realize and reflect on himself.

You soon brush the thoughts away though. The last thing you should be thinking about is Jungkook, when you've got a job to do.

Sounds of relief and of a baby's cry soon fill the room. The noise helps you block further thoughts you want or should be thinking.

But still, it seems your brain doesn't work hard enough. Hence, leading you to wonder if this would've been you and Jungkook. Would it have been you doing the skin to skin with a baby you grew for 9 months with the man you love by your side for support. Could it have been Jungkook instead being handed the scissors to cut the umbilical cord. His usual bunny smile and doe eyes staring down at the baby. And his hands shaking cause of how nervous he'd be. he never liked to mess up.

"Look yn, you did it. I'm so proud of you baby."  he would coo, those doe eyes staring right into you with pure love and joy. "Oh! Not you baby. I'm talking to your mother.  How am I going to call both of you baby." He would say and laugh at his own joke afterwards. You would too, his jokes were so cheesy and cute. You loved them still though. you'd always wanted a family with him.

You were a fool to think you'd stop thinking about all that could've been. It pisses you off. You thought by now, passed all these years and some relationships it would stop.  But it never did and seeing Taehyung only reminds you of everything you've been trying to forget.

"Yn." Your senior doctor called you out of your thoughts. "Do a checkup on the Kim baby for me, I have another job." You nod and walk around to pick up the necessary paperwork.

You loved your job. Seeing life being brought into the world. The smile on the families faces and the happy couples. Even holding the little babies was so heartwarming.

But there are downsides to the job, many than you'd like to say. The tears the yelling, the disappointment. The losses, your biggest fears.

It broke your heart to see a woman push hard only for life to go as soon as it came. You never cried in front of the families; you had to be strong.  But you always did at home. You cried for many things. All the lives that could've been or how your life could've been. All things that might have been if you chose differently. Sometimes you'd get lost and end up crying about a dead fish you lost when you were 10. You didn't mind as long as you were crying and getting things off your chest.

Even through your own turmoil you were always there for the families: to give a warm presence. You did all you were allowed.  Some others would appreciate the comfort, but some would yell curses at you. You didn't blame them, emotions are high. It's part of the job.

A thick skin.

 You've grown it over the years. Whether it's from your own parents, Jungkook's parents or Jungkook himself. You've learnt how to cover up. It's not a good way of living but it's got you through most of the things in your life.

You're grown now. And you pat yourself on the back for what you went through. You were able to make it out and be where you want to be, even through the confusion of life and relationships.

You love your job, and you'd never change it, but it's so easy to feel empty and lonely. Whatever it is you're missing you don't know. But you can definitely feel an emptiness in you.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kim, I'm here to check up on you and the baby." You say walking in and deciding to address them formally. Clipboard in hand and mask forgotten.

It took him a second, then two, then three to recognize that voice. Then when he stared long enough it dawned on him.

"Yn?" Taehyung says dumbstruck. He was sat by his wife talking, while the baby slept, but as soon as he recognized you, he was on his feet.

You never thought he'd recognize you. but you assume you haven't changed that much, or Taehyung just knows you too well. He was your friend too. And it did crush you when you didn't talk to him or ignored him over these years.

"Taehyung." you say trying keep it professional but still acknowledging how you're just as pleased see to him.

"Yn!" you hear him call out in a faux sob. And soon like lightning you feel him crash you with his arms. He squeezes you so tight you might burst.

"I've missed you! why did you leave me?" You can hear sadness in his voice. It hurts your heart. You never meant to ditch him too, but it was difficult to stay friends when you knew where he was Jungkook would be too.

You rub his back in a way to reciprocate the hug as much as you can. He holds you so tight that you can barely move, and you're about to turn blue.

Turning your eyes to his wife, you beg for a hand.

"Tae, you're going to break our baby's doctor." She lectures him and with a final squeeze he lets you go.  She's heard of you from what Taehyung has mentioned but not in great detail.  Only when he's explaining a funny story that you might have been involved in, and her curiosity grew.

You all laugh as he lets you go, and you collect your breath.

"I'm sorry." His wife apologizes with her sweet voice before she sends a glare to her husband. You shake your head, understanding that Taehyung might have not grown as much as you thought. He's still got that hyper personality of his.

he pouts and turns back to you.

"Yn." He whines and you flinch thinking he'll hug you again. He doesn't.

"Taehyung how have you been?" You say still professional and calmed down. You're excited to see him and just as happy, but it's just difficult for you to adjust after not seeing him for so long.

"Is that all you can say? And why are you so professional?" He whines, and you chuckle at how he's still so childish.

"I'm a doctor, Taehyung. I can't be jumping around like a monkey." You say, clutching your clipboard to your chest.

His wife chuckles and says something about him not maturing yet. You of all people are aware of how childish he can be.

And like for the first time Taehyung takes in your outfit and gasps. "Shit yn you did it." He says with a smile "Doc yn." He teases.

"Don't tease me." you blush.

"I'm so proud of you though. I always thought you'd been kidding about the doctor thing." He rubs the back of his neck feeling embarrassed about doubting you. But you don't take offence as you show him your smile.

"I was very serious as you can see."

You both just chuckle.

"So, we're you...l-like in here too."

"Yeah, I think she was, I saw you right? Docter's assistant, right?" His wife asks.

You nod in affirmation.

Taehyung mentally slaps himself. How could he have not noticed. He feels so stupid right now.

"I'm so glad you delivered my baby." he says with a proud smile.

"Well, I didn-"

"Shut up you did deliver my baby." He slaps down your statement. "No, but like seriously, of all people in the world I'm glad you were the one to do."

You bow smiling, appreciating his words. Doing this feels like apologizing for ditching him. And hearing him say that makes you love you job even more.

"Waaah, look at how professional she is now." He mocks as he turns to his wife to tell her how you were such a brat and party girl. You deny the allegation even though they are true cause you don't want to ruin his wife's perception of you.

You've changed anyways so doesn't matter anymore.

"Don't worry we were all party girls once at least." She says and you can't help but appreciate how kind and sweet she seems. You haven't been introduced to her. But you find it unnecessary when you remember why you actually came here.

"I came to check on you and the baby." You say turning on professional mode which was never off.

You walk over to the baby, who was still sound asleep. Cute.

They all nod, letting you do your thing.

"Tell me yn.." Taehyung says when he's now sat by his wife. "Who does she look like?" He wants to settle the debate they've been having.

"Just be honest."

You turn to analyze the baby you were already scanning. You couldn't help but notice a little bit of Taehyung but when you stare longer you start to see more of his wife.

"I think she shares both of your features quite well." You speak.

Taehyung whines disappointed in your answer.

"She's just being professional, we should ask her when we go for dinner."

Dinner? when did you say you'd be going for dinner. You ignore it.

They talk and you smile at how they tease each other and are happy together. These are always your favorite kind of days.

"What time is Jungkook coming?" His wife whispers to Taehyung, but you're still able to catch on.

Jungkook's coming here? He's going to be here. The hell. You should've expected it, maybe you would've asked someone else to be here instead. But when you think about it you realize how inevitable it was, plus you got to reunite(?) with Taehyung. You doubt you'll see each other after this.

"He should be here soon." Your heart races and throat dries up for whatever emotion your body will not communicate to you.

Fuck. you still have more tests to run, and you haven't even begun with the mother.

You take a deep breath as the baby stirs but still stays calm. You're focused on the baby as you set her back into the hospital crib. The hospital you worked at was a really high-end one. Well, at least the part that Taehyung had picked out. He must be doing well for himself cause these ends are quite expensive.

He's a finance bro, studied finance and got a good job. So, he's differently doing well.

You wonder how Jungkook's doing, is he doing well...

"Look who's a dad."

You hear a knock, then the familiar voice follows. Your heart freezes and so does your whole body.

"Shh." Taehyung lectures him pointing to your direction. "There's a baby"

Jungkook follows his friend's eyes, to you. But he doesn't realize it's you, and you're glad for that. You wish you could just slip out right now.

But why are you the one anxious, he should be the one trembling right now. Not you. 

"Can I see her?" He coos and Taehyung nods.

"She's getting a check up though." Taehyung adds as Jungkook walks to you and your heart grows tighter as his steps grow closer. but you choose to stand firm in your spot.

The heels of his shoes tap against the floor and regrets wearing them. But he just came here from the office so he can't be blamed.

"I'm sure it's fine, right doctor?" He says with charm in his voice.

His voice awakens so many things in you. Anger, hate, insecurity, doubt, memory, yearn, search. But mainly anger. Anger at all that still left you burnt and bruised. All the stupid mistakes of your youth that you were warned about and could have avoided.

"I'd advise you wash your hands first." You turn to look at him eyes bland of any visible emotion.

Professional, yn be professional.

"Yn?" He says shocked and smile dropped from its previous spot. He heard your voice before getting to see your face. And if his memory serves him right...he is right. He can't be wrong.

His heart's as far as the sea goes. Nothing and everything go through his mind.

You don’t give him a response.

"Please wash your hands and sanitize if you decide to be close to the baby." No warmth in your voice or room for conversation. Everyone in the room can feel the tension and Jungkook is still shocked to see you, eyes and hands unmoving. He can't figure what he's feeling or thinking, he just...

Never expected to see you here. It's almost like a slap to his face, like the last time he saw you. And at the memory of the day, bitterness and anger sink in him.

You walk past him leaving a cold breeze for him to relish in.

You try to plaster a smile when you see the tension you caused. "Now it's your turn." You say to Taehyung's wife as you begin her checkup.

You're really trying your best to keep it cool, but you can feel the acid by your throat burn.

Jungkook just clears his throat and goes to the sink and washes his hands. Mind lost of any thoughts, but choosing to ignore them as usual. 

"So, I'm and uncle huh?" He says trying to clear himself of the tightness in his chest. Even though his voice doesn't sound as confident as before, he's just going to ignore it.

Ignore you.

"She's so cute, she's looks like you Tae." He declares caressing her cheek with his index.

Taehyung cheers and his wife rolls her eyes.

"Can you imagine,  yn said she shares both our features."

And the reminder that you're Actually here and not a nightmare is set for Jungkook to relish in.

"Docter's always right Taehyung, you should listen." You don't know whether he's being serious or sarcastic, but you could care less. All you want is to be out of here and away from him.

You want to scoff but choose to suck it in and ignore the remark or whatever it meant. 

Taehyung shrugs, deciding to let it go. It didn't matter who the baby looked like. It's all light-hearted. He's just happy that both his wife and the baby are okay.

Taehyung does realize the tension, which cause him to somewhat do things deliberately. He wanted to out loud comment on it but he's just going to let fate do its thing instead.

Once he saw you, he knew you'd have to meet Jungkook. It honestly makes him happy. Even though you're ignoring each other.

"Everything's good, so I'll be taking my leave now." you say. Everyone nods and acknowledges giving you little thanks Yous as you grab your stuff. Only Taehyung and his wife. You managed to ignore him and avoid him and all you have to do now is leave.

But as you're walking out a voice speaks.

"Yn, can we get some water?" Jungkook says, voice certain and eyes lowered at you.

He's just trying to get a rise at you yn, walk away. You try to calm yourself. There's so much bottled that you only realized today. You'd thought your anger died long ago but you guess not.

His statement is simple and not that deep but it's the way he says it and how your name has so much weight to it as he speaks it. Makes you irritated. How he's always made you stretch your neck out for him, but he never did for you.

"It's doctor. And about the water? That's not my job." You say your professional demeanor dropping so you can deliver it with more attitude. He knows it's not your job; he just wanted to say and see that look your face.

Why he did it? He doesn't have a reason but just wanted to (maybe) release the tightness in his chest. It doesn't leave anyways.

Fucking piss of shit.

"We should get married."

You stare at the goofball in front of you a smile forming on your face as you watch him speak.

"What?" You chuckle and he frowns at how unserious you're taking him.

"I'm serious yn, I want to marry you." He holds your hand. "We can get married, we're 19 and we're going to uni soon."

He watches how your face contorts at his suggestion.

"Do you not want to marry me?" He lifts his brow, and you groan.

"I do want to..." you start and as he waits to hear your but "...but..." and there it is "Don't you think we're a little too young for that?"

"We're old enough and plus what matters is that we love each other." he holds you closer to him under the tree you two adored to use to hide from the world.

"We'll get married, go to college together and when we can, get a house and live together."

You loved the sound of that, married to Jungkook and living with him as you went to school and back home to each other.  Of course you wanted that life with him, but there's a lot you're scared of,

"And our parents?" You ask worried.

He rubs your shoulder.

"Who cares what they think, I love you and I want to marry you." you blush and lean in closer into him feeling his heartbeat under your palm. You loved being with him, alone and away from the world and that's what you hoped marriage will do for the two of you. Keep your love protected from the world.

"So?" He asked and you knew what you were required to do. "Will you marry me yn?"

You stay silent to tease him and when he tickles you for an answer, you agree to answer.

"Yes Jungkook I'll marry you."

He smiles at your answer and places a kiss on your cheek holding you closer to him.

"I'll always love you yn, not matter what okay?"  He squeezes his face into yours.

"Okay?" He's voice is muffled against your cheek as you giggle.

"Okay, Jungkook, okay." your laughter dies down as he stops to place a kiss on your cheek.

You hated this. No. You hated him.

What's he so full of that he can come here and try to be sarcastic with you. In your territory.  You'll give it to him that he didn't know you'd be here but to be fair that's not an excuse to be an ass. You'd thought maybe he'd changed.

But no, he's still shitty and condescending as fuck.

You're glad you divorced him, and you're glad to know that you still hate his face. His stupid face. The stupid face that has grown into its masculine and manly features.

You hate that you even noticed that.

"Yn you good? "

"Huh?" You say still brain fogged "Yeah I'm good, just tired." You smile awkwardly and Rosie knows it's a lie. She sits next to you on the break-room bench.

"You sure? " She asks and you nod, not trusting your voice to speak.

"I don't believe you."

"Then don't." You say coming out a little too harsh, you're not mad at her so you apologize for the attitude. You're still set off from the interaction with Jungkook. It was barely an interaction cause you two were avoiding  each other like two ships at sea. But the tension and the way you avoided each other's space said a lot.

"Tell me yn." She whines in her bratty voice. "We've been friends since high school, why not tell me."

You sigh. You two have been friends for some time. She's been there for you and Jungkook's first date and your divorce. Damn it you did years of medicine together, so why hide from her. Plus, you know she won't stop bugging till you tell her.

"Jungkook's back." You probably shouldn't have phrased it like that. He's not back, you just happened to meet him while another old friend had a child.

"Taehyung had a baby and they have a delivery room upstairs and I bumped into him." You elaborate.

"Taehyung had a kid?" You deadpan her at how that's the only thing she heard. "Okay, okay" she raises her hands in defence. "So, you just saw him, you didn't talk?"

"No." you never really talked so you wouldn't phrase it as that.

"Then what's wrong darling." She wraps her arms around you and brings her face to yours.

You explain to her what he said and why it pissed you off.

"I'm just kinda pissed off. " You sigh and lean into her.

"He's a dick don't mind him. He's probably miserable and trying to bring you down after seeing you living out your dreams." She tries to comfort you.

You shake your head. "I don't know he looks good-he looks well I mean," you correct yourself. "Plus, Taehyung's in the private suite so I doubt they are anything close to broke."

Rosie doesn't know what to say now, she's not surprised. But you look disturbed and she wants to help.

"You know what? it doesn't even matter." she goes quiet. "You know what? we should go for drinks on the weekend."

Normally, you'd say no. But it's been while since you went out and the weekend was coming and you were weirdly free through all of it. So it wouldn't hurt to go out.

"Okay." Rosie's taken aback by your lack of reluctance. She prepared a whole speech to convince you encase you said no.

"Which bar? " You ask curious.

"Satin."

"Isn't it just opening up?" You stare with a questioning look. The opening of satin was all that was being talked about amongst your friends. So, you'd eventually end up curious and want to go there. it wasn't your plan to go on the first day though.

"Yeah makes it much better to find some rich bachelor." she whispers. "This doctor/residence job isn’t gonna pay for my new car."

You roll your eyes and chuckle at her amusement. She honestly makes you happy and able to forget everything that makes you feel like shit. It's her bright and bubbly characteristic that you envy and seem to lack.

"So, you and yn?" Taehyung asks as he does his warmups. Jungkook laughs at how Taehyung has been warming up for so long. He knows he's probably avoiding real gym work.

"What about me and her?" Jungkook says as he puts on his boxing gloves, trying his best to keep the conversation short.

He's not surprised he's bringing this up, he actually prepped himself for it.

"Still awkward?" Tae bends and stretches. Jungkook points for him to quit it and grab some gloves. He groans and grabs a pair. He should honestly be making most of the time he's got to be in a gym because he won't be here often.

"It's been over 4 years since we talked of course it's awkward." Jungkook  sends some practice punches into the air. He needs to quicken this conversation with Taehyung.  He knows what he's doing, and he knew it was going to happen as soon as he left the hospital, he was just waiting for when.

"Why not talk it out?" Jungkook almost snorts out at how stupid this conversation is.

Taehyung feels a gush of wind pass his face as Jungkook deliberately missed his face. Whether it's to shut him up, get him ready to work out or just for the fun of it, he doesn’t know. Taehyung doesn't know but Jungkook now options to hit him.  He uses his arms to protect himself from the man too focused on working out than the conversation.

"We never talked it out when we divorced, so why should we now." He speaks so lightly of the situation, no emotion or care for it. "We have no relationship." He spits out as he throws a punch that Taehyung dodges.

"Bullshit. You and yn are goals" Taehyung pauses "were goals at least, before whatever the fuck happened."

Jungkook chuckles but it's not anything from genuine amusement or from the good memories you two shared.

"Don't laugh, I'm serious.  You need to talk to her and get this shit sorted." Taehyung groans ad he blocks more of his blows. They grow more intense. "I hate being in between you two." Taehyung throws a punch of his own, when Jungkook is slow. "Pity me a child of divorced parents. Imagine how this has traumatized me." Taehyung is quick to his feet to throw a punch and Jungkook is the one to block it.

"Too bad. But you look fine to me, a kid, a wife and a good paying job." Jungkook takes back his dominance.

He's happy for Taehyung, but to say he isn't a little jealous is a..

"And what about you? " Jungkook loses his focus for a second and Taehyung lands a low blow in his gut.

He groans and fixes his footing and gloves as he tries to one-up Taehyung.

"I've got a good paying job. That's all I need." he says bluntly trying to focus on a free spot to throw a blow.

"Lies. Look the universe has brought you two back together, talk it out with yn."

Bang. Jungkook smacks Taehyung in the side of his face. To be fair that felt quite personal and he slightly feels bad for hitting him. He doesn't want him to go home and see his kid while he's all bloody.

But that's what he gets for bringing you up as a topic to talk about. After all these years, like he cares.

He doesn't care. Still, it's not like seeing you doesn't make him feel some sort of way. He feels something. Definitely some type of bitterness, anger and emptiness.

"No. Plus it's been 4 years. Far too long to 'talk it out'. " He air quotes with his gloves on. "And it's not just a small problem, we went through the wringer and failed.” Jungkook uses rapid movements to stop his thoughts. “So even if we talked it out what would it change, we can't be friends anymore. Or lovers at that." He scoffs at the thought.

Taehyung jumps back indicating he wants to stop and focus on the topic. Jungkook groans and rolls his eyes.

Taehyung doesn't care, he'll press on. He knows Jungkook likes to avoid and that's why he'll keep bringing it up.

"Closure, Jungkook closureeeee!" Taehyung  empathizes.

Jungkook chuckles. "She divorced me, that's my closure. I signed the papers, that's her closure." He won't lie but he could feel how harsh and insensitive his words sound as they left his mouth. But it's too late to take them back. At least you weren't here to hear them.

"Oh, come on, don't be so stiff hearted." he takes off his gloves getting kind of irritated at his friend for being so reckless and not doing what he should've done years ago.

Fight for you. Make you want to stay. Change and be better. Or whatever.

As a witness Taehyung knows what Jungkook and you had can never be replaced. And even though Jungkook has tried he's just miserable though he says otherwise.  But he's just so stubborn.

"Well maybe if she wasn't so stiff minded, we would've been the ones with the kid, maybe even two with a dog even." he says chugging down a bottle of water trying cool his racing heart that races from the exercise and not the thought of starting a family with you. The thoughts have always haunted him. And they've now been revived even more and it's irritating.

"See? Talk it out. " Taehyung says feeling like he's found a weak spot.

"Fuck off. Its never gonna happen. I'm just talking out of my ass." Taehyung knows he's lying; he's always known Jungkook to want a family and the only person he knew that he'd want that was with you. He knows it's hard to reignite something from years ago, but it's never too late to try.

"More like heart" Taehyung whispers and Jungkook sends him a dead-behind -the-eyes gaze.

You had forgotten how much you enjoyed dressing up and going out with your friends.  From marriage, to school, to work you've really lost some parts of yourself. You still love and appreciate it all in the good and bad, but you still wish you could have some of your college ways back.

The mini dresses, heels, makeup and hair done.  Just reminds you of how attractive you are.

You laugh.

Even through all these efforts you're finding hard to put yourself out there into the dating world. It's all tiring, from the men to the dates, to the kissing and touching that never satisfies.  It’s just not the same anymore. Nothing feels good and you hate to admit it.

You decided to go dressed casual but still making an effort.

"Oh my gosh girl, switch bodies with me." Rosie whines as she cheers you on in your outfit. She's dressed in a tiny black skirt and red lace top; she looks so good and you're sure she's gonna leave you alone the whole night.

Rosie always looks good in what she wears, and you admire how confident she manages to be. you wish that for yourself right now.

You do love to dress up. But like most things, you've lost a touch for looking good. Most of your times you're either in your scrubs or in comfy home clothes you wear when you never see the light of day.

But for tonight you make an effort to connect into your inner party girl.

The black, mid-thigh, bodycon dress hugs your figure as its long sleeves hug your arms. Rosie’s favorite part of the dress; the low bare back cut.

You were feeling a little self-conscious about it but when Rosie told you looked hot and you'd definitely catch everyone's eye., you decide to say fuck it and go on.

That's the point of tonight, right? To let go and forget.

"I think it's so fucking cool that Jimin opened a nightclub," Namjoon says, sitting at the back of the car.

"It's quite Jimin of him," Taehyung and Namjoon laugh.

And like a saint, Jungkook keeps his eyes on the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

"How about you?" They all turn to Jungkook.

Jungkook finally speaks when he realizes he's being talked to. "What about me?" He speaks as though he wasn't paying attention to the conversation.

"What do you think about Jimin opening a club?"

Jungkook shifts in his seat for no specific reason. "It's cool, I guess."

"Cool?" Namjoon exclaims at how boring and plain his answer sounds. "Come on."

"What?" Jungkook defends himself. "I mean, it's cool, and I'm proud of him. What else do you want me to say?" He leans back into the car seat, finally getting comfortable, but his mind is still so far away.

Taehyung and Namjoon furrow their brows at Jungkook’s tone but soon brush away his lack of excitement or interest. In his defence, he was with Jimin during every step of buying and furnishing the club, so it's not as exciting for him. Only Jungkook had been in on it because he helped Jimin with the legal side of it all. So maybe that's why he's not so excited.

Or maybe it's because of the fact that he's never been one to be a club-goer. It's not that he doesn't enjoy it when he gets the chance, but it's never been for him. You were always the club-goer in the relationship, and you'd always drag him to go. And because you were with him, he would go and enjoy his time. It's all different now.

Clubs feel weird; they hold memories and empty feelings.

"Try to enjoy tonight, okay?" Taehyung pats Jungkook’s back.

He doesn't get the gesture but takes it anyway. Taehyung knows his friend isn't being himself right now, and he's got his suspicions about the cause. But he won't bug him; he’s already done his part.

They walk into the club and soon are met with their blond-haired friend, who excuses himself from the previous conversation to walk over to them.

Hugs and greetings are shared.

"Congratulations, bro! This place is beautiful."

Jimin's proud of how well this place turned out. It's his newfound pride and joy.

The place is a typical high-end nightclub, with the best music, drinks, and food. The decor and ambiance fit Jimin's fantasies to a tee.

"Yeah, all thanks to Kookie boy over here, I was able to buy and renovate it with no trouble." Jimin turns to Jungkook, who seems lost in staring at the place.

The club isn't too crowded; they got there early to look around and talk to Jimin because they knew he'd be busy the rest of the night.

"Ya! Jungkook, are you with us?" Jimin calls him out.

He turns to where he's being called as he blinks. "Y-yeah, I'm here."

They all choose to ignore it, knowing that he can be distant sometimes.

"You guys grab some drinks; I have some people to talk to." Jimin excuses himself, and they know the only time they're going to see him is when the night ends.

Jungkook is the first one to walk off and grab himself a drink; he's going to need it.

You and Rosie planned on going early, but because of traffic and your delay in getting ready, you were two hours late after the opening. You knew it would be packed since it was the grand opening, but shockingly, it was not as crowded as you expected. There was room to move and walk around. Most people were so well-dressed that you'd think this was a gala instead and that you were underdressed. But no matter what, you still felt out of place.

You looked good and felt good, but there’s only so much you can do to make yourself comfortable.

Rosie scoped the place, and when she spotted the bar, she pulled your hand toward it.

"First, we drink," she said, more excited than you. She ordered the drinks, and soon you were handed one.

As you sipped, you felt eyes on you. You'd felt them since you walked in; whether you minded it or not, you didn't know yet. You still felt like a sore thumb, but after this drink, you were sure you'd settle into the scene.

"So many hot men. Damn," Rosie muttered to herself, but you were still able to catch what she said. You chuckled, happy that she was settling in. She was so good at it.

Soon, you were on your third drink—nothing crazy. You weren't trying to get blacked out, but you were definitely feeling a little more settled in.

Rosie left a few minutes ago to talk to some people or whatever. And even though she offered, you declined to go along with her. You weren't up to meeting strangers tonight. You just wanted to enjoy yourself, by yourself. So, you sat by the bar and enjoyed the music.

"You enjoying the night?"

A voice from your left spoke. You took a minute to respond, debating whether the man was speaking to you.

You turned and took in his appearance: blond hair swooped back, making him look clean and professional, and a suit that fit his physique perfectly.

"Yeah," you chuckled, not sounding convincing and not trying to keep the conversation going.

The man seemed to want to continue talking, though, and honestly, you didn't know if you were interested in conversing with him. He didn't seem like a creep, but you could never know with men.

The silence consumed you (excluding the club music), and his presence lingered by your side.

A glass slid in front of you as you looked to the bartender, who then directed you to the man sitting next to you.

"It's on the house." He stared at you with a warm, cheeky smile, and you stared back with a suspicious one.

You took the glass into your hands and brought it to your lips. Might as well make the most of the interaction if he wasn't going to leave. "You say that like you own the place," you chuckled as the liquid slid down your throat. You couldn't help but cringe at how strong it tasted.

The blond stayed silent and watched you, waiting for you to catch on.

"Wait... are you actually the owner?" you paused.

You watched a slow smile form on his lips. He nodded.

You squinted. "Or are you just saying that to try and flirt?" You kept your eyes narrowed.

"The last thing I'd do is lie."

You wouldn't say you were surprised, because now that you looked at him, he fit the picture of a high-end nightclub owner. Even the way he spoke—gently and respectfully—made you want to warm up to him.

But why was he talking to you? Didn't he have other things to do?

"Wow. That's cool. The place looks lovely." You took in the environment one more time. You'd never expect to meet the owner of the club, and you never thought he'd be so young. Older men were typically more likely to own such a place.

"It should, because I spent quite the penny on it." He chuckled, sipping his own drink. You took in his words. How much does such a place cost? Does he own it by himself, or does he have partners? You didn't want to ask, though; you just kept your eyes on him and shifted them elsewhere when he turned to look at you.

"Must feel good to see it so full, huh?"

"Yeah, but..." he paused, and you turned your body to give him your full attention. Finally. "My heart breaks when I see people sitting at the bar, looking like they're not enjoying their time."

You laughed and blushed, embarrassed, knowing that he was talking about you. Is that what you looked like to people? Like you were bored?

You laughed one more time before you decided to speak. "I am enjoying my time," you started, not sounding too convincing at all. "It’s just been a while since I've been out."

He nodded. "I get it. Busy with work?" It was a random question, and he debated with himself on whether to assume.

"Yeah," you laughed, thinking about work, and soon your thoughts drifted back to the man you met, and the bitterness sprang up again, but you hid it, not wanting to sour your mood. You downed the drink, maybe to burn away the feeling and thought, to erase the picture forming in your mind.

"Then you should let loose." He stood, holding out his hand for you.

"W-what?" You choked out with a smile.

"Come dance with me." He was charming; you wouldn't lie, and you were definitely charmed.

"No, I can't..." you laughed.

"You have a boyfriend?" He raised a brow, and you shook your head. "Husband?" You could feel the acid reflux come back up again. You shook your head once more, this time less enthusiastically.

"Then come dance with me. Please?" He held his hand out, waiting for your answer. "Make my night."

You didn't need much sweet-talking; you were going to say yes anyway, but he seemed like a nice guy, and he was attractive—very much so. It wouldn't hurt to dance with someone, even just once. This was your chance to catch up to Rosie’s streak tonight, though no one could compete.

"Okay," you said as you took his hand, which was warm to the touch. Your eyes moved down to his wrist as you noticed the Rolex that adorned it. You weren't a watch person, but that was definitely some high-class stuff.

"Thank you," he said with a smile as he placed an unexpected hand on your lower back. You didn't mind it, and you soon warmed up to it.

You danced for a few minutes, and you quickly forgot your reluctance, letting loose in his arms. He swiftly pulled you back into his chest as you swayed your hips.

"Look at you," he said, complimenting how you smiled and danced. "And you wanted to rot yourself at the bar."

You sheepishly laughed, not knowing what to add. It was definitely nice to get off the stool and dance, especially with someone who had shockingly made you comfortable.

"I didn't catch your name, love," he whispered in your ear as you held onto his shoulders. He felt stupid for going this long without getting your name, but better late than never, right?

"My name's Y/N. What's yours?"

He smiled as he leaned in closer.

"Jimin."

"Jimin? That's a pretty name."

Jimin chuckled. He'd take the compliment.

"Is it?" You nodded. Jimin got lost in your eyes, and you got lost in his as well. "Would you like me to show you around?"

"Like around the club?" You moved back to catch his gaze as he nodded. "Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

So you stepped off the dance floor as he held your hand, guiding you on the path to walk. He wasn't planning on doing anything ridiculous with you; maybe it was just the excitement of being the new owner that had him wanting to show people around.

Meanwhile, Jungkook was still not feeling the atmosphere. Boredom and bitterness still coated his chest. Neither his friends nor the women who came to talk to him seemed to make the night pleasant.

Though he tried to avoid it, the alcohol did help to make the night a little more tolerable. He watched the dance floor from their VIP section as his friends chatted about whatever, and he stared mindlessly.

He listened to how Taehyung refused to drink, only settling for a non-alcoholic beverage since he had to go back home to a baby. Namjoon teased him for his newfound sense of responsibility.

"What the fuck is up with Jungkook?" Namjoon asked Taehyung directly.

"Maybe it's because he bumped into Y/N at the hospital. Did I tell you?"

Namjoon shook his head. "What was she doing there? Don't tell me she had a baby too!"

Taehyung scoffed at Namjoon’s suspicion. "No, she's a doctor. I think he'd lose his shit if she did, though. Just look at how affected he is from seeing her."

He definitely would. He'd lose his shit real bad.

"So you think it's about that?" Namjoon took a sip.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Did they seem cool at all?"

"As cool as two bulls seeing red," Taehyung scoffed.

"I'll be back." They heard the subject of their conversation speak as he stood.

"Damn," Namjoon said, watching Jungkook walk away.

Jungkook had been dodging every woman who came into contact with him. Tonight was about supporting Jimin, not finding a hookup. Plus, he had been too busy with work to even find interest in hooking up.

To be honest with himself, he had been quite thrown off since the day he saw you at the hospital. Your white coat and blue scrubs complemented your skin. Fuck, he hated it.

He hated being off his game; it was the anger he felt. He had always wondered what he would do if he ever saw you again, and he had never known the answer. Even right now, he didn't know what to do about it. But he didn't need to think too much about it. He had only seen you once, and that was that. It’s not like he was going to see you again.

Gosh, he always wondered if you stayed in Seoul, and it looked like you did. He had always felt fine not knowing if you were within the city or not. But now that he was sure you were still here and probably frequenting the same places he did, the town felt small, and the air felt suffocating.

He was angry, bitter, and confused. With Taehyung in his ear, he grew more bothered by your existence. He had been fine when he never saw you, never knew where you were, or if you were okay—not knowing if you had ever moved on or not. He had been fine not knowing and just forgetting about you.

Or at least he thought he was.

Seeing you just opened a wound to something he had forgotten—not healed.

Since that day, he had been bombarded with thoughts and worries about you. He had questions, but he didn't know if he would be able to ask them if he opened his mouth. Or if he would even want to know the answers to some.

Whenever you were around and he opened his mouth, he just let his bitterness take the lead and speak for him.

He did feel shitty for what he said. To the outside eye, it might have seemed harmless, but between the two of you, it held more weight, and he should have known better than to say it.

Why couldn't he have just said "hi"? Like a normal person.

"Have you gotten the chance to go over the results?" Jungkook's assistant asks as he walks into his office. Is he an assistant? More like an associate, rather.

"No, I just got them, so I only skimmed through." To be honest, he's been trying to balance a lot lately: his work, this case, his thoughts, and his emotions—specifically, you. He's never had this much trouble before, but it needs to stop. It's a big and emotionally sensitive case he needs to work on, so he needs to have his full focus on analyzing the case and not on what he did to lose you.

"Take a look," Jaehyun suggests to his superior, who seems out of it. "And I was thinking we should get a doctor to testify." He lays out the papers on Jungkook’s side table, and Jungkook lets him, watching closely and trying to pay attention.

"I can have some doctors go over the report and—" Jungkook's voice intercepts and startles the younger man.

"No. That won't be necessary. I already have someone." Jungkook says, a small smile taking over his face.

This is a good chance for him to see you again and get the opportunity to apologize for what he said. And maybe his mind will leave him alone.

"You've got to be kidding me! Why am I being haunted?" you exclaim, disbelief flooding your voice as you approach the front desk. The sight of Jungkook standing there sends a rush of conflicting emotions through you—anger, frustration, and an undeniable pang of something else you refuse to acknowledge. Jungkook knew you wouldn’t be happy to see him, but all he hoped was that you wouldn’t make a scene.

"Don't be childish," he replies, his tone clipped as you draw closer. "Look, I’m not here to argue; I just want to talk." He pulls you aside, creating a small barrier between the two of you and the bustling crowd around the desk.

"Nothing to talk about, Jeon," you mutter, folding your arms defensively. Surprisingly, you don’t walk away, even though every part of you screams to escape. You tell yourself it’s to avoid causing a scene, but deep down, you know it’s more complicated than that.

"I need your help." His rushed, hushed words catch you off guard, and you can’t help but snicker, a bitter laugh escaping your lips.

"With what?" You feign disinterest, but the urge to provoke him lingers, like a moth drawn to a flame.

"A case I'm working on. I need a doctor to testify." His seriousness is almost comical, and for a moment, you think he must be joking. It feels like a cruel twist of fate—he rose from the ashes of your past just to humiliate you all over again.

"And you came to me to recommend someone? I'm pretty sure you have other people to ask." You turn to leave, your heart racing with a mix of indignation and something softer that you refuse to acknowledge.

"I want your help." His words stop you in your tracks, and you feel a flicker of something—hope? Regret? You roll your eyes, trying to mask the turmoil inside.

"This is stalking, Jungkook. Just because you know where I work doesn’t mean you can show up whenever you feel like it." You find yourself trying to ignore the weight of his previous words, the way they linger in the air between you.

Jungkook sighs, frustration etched across his features. He knows he shouldn’t have come here; it’s weird, especially given the history between you two. What made him think you’d suddenly warm up to him after four years apart? He should have thought it through before leaping at the opportunity. But there’s something familiar about being around you, something that feels like home, even after all this time.

"I'm sorry," he says, and the words take you aback. You never thought you’d hear him apologize for anything. Your hands drop to your sides as you struggle to look anywhere but at him. "I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry. But I need your help." He doesn’t necessarily need your help, but he sure does want it. It’s not the apology you’ve been waiting for, but it stirs something deep within you.

"No, I’m not going to. Plus, I’m just a junior doctor," you say, your tone softening as you reluctantly engage in the conversation.

"You got your degree, didn’t you?" He asks, and you nod, feeling a flicker of pride. Before you can respond, he continues, "Practicing license?" Another nod. "Work experience?" His questions come in a rush, and you knit your brows together, feeling the pressure of his expectations.

"Yeah," you reply, glancing around your workplace, filled with patients, doctors, and nurses, all oblivious to the tension crackling between you two.

You shake your head, trying to ground yourself in reality. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It’s all you need to testify and ensure your words aren’t null and void."

For a fleeting second, you consider it. Then you don’t.

"And honestly, why the hell would I want to help you?" You snap back, your arms folding across your chest once more, a barrier against the emotions threatening to spill over.

"You're not helping me; you're helping a little girl." His words freeze you in place, and suddenly, the weight of his plea sinks in. "Honestly, I don’t care if we’re good or not. I just need your help. She needs your help."

You don’t know if it’s his new method of guilt-tripping or the sincerity in his voice, but the statement has you straightening your back, your resolve wavering.

"Don’t guilt trip me," you lower your eyes at him, and he scoffs, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze as he watches your expression shift.

"I'm not," he insists, and maybe it’s the cheeky smile that suddenly forms on his face that makes you shy under his gaze. Jungkook’s words have always had a way of getting to you, and you’re shocked to find that it still works. You guess it’s a good thing he became a lawyer; it suits him.

Jungkook sighs, his expression softening. "You know what? If you don’t want to help me, it’s alright. I get it—"

"I’ll help you." The words escape your lips before you can fully process them, and you can’t help but feel a mix of surprise and resignation.

You had spent more time than you wanted with Jungkook over the week, but it was just to prepare you. Once you helped him, you hoped he’d leave you alone and you could finally go your own way, trying to forget as much of him as you could.

"What should I wear?" you asked him over the phone. It reminded you of conversations you’d had before visiting his parents. You promised to only use his line for talking about the case, and that’s what you were doing; afterwards, you swore you were going to delete it.

"Wear what you want." He leaned back in his chair, listening to you talk while paying close attention.

"Even my underwear?" You tried to be sarcastic.

You could hear Jungkook’s soft chuckle, and it warmed your heart, making you blush. Thoughts of your late-night calls flooded your mind, but you quickly caught yourself.

Stop, you told yourself as you wiped the smile off your face.

"Not for the court." His index and middle fingers found their way to rubbing his lower lip. You could hear the sultriness in his voice, and his tone reminded you of something—ah, phone sex.

Why the hell are you thinking this? Shit.

"Wear what you want, just make it presentable." His tone shifted back to serious. Your silence made him think he had crossed a line. Honestly, he didn’t intend to; it just came so naturally to him.

You sighed. Jungkook waited for you to end the call, but you didn’t.

"Goodnight," you finally found the courage to say, ready to end the conversation.

"Goo—" Before he had a chance to respond, the line beeped, and you hung up.

The thought of hearing his voice and having it embedded in your mind once again was too much for you to handle. Hearing his voice was already overwhelming.

It was deeper, more mature, and sensu—

"Not possible for the injuries sustained to be accidental or self-inflicted," you assert, your voice steady and confident, just as Jungkook instructed you to be. Your gaze drifts to him, and you catch his encouraging smile, a small nod that sends a rush of warmth through you. It feels good to have him there, supporting you, but the past few days spent working on this case with him have left you in a whirlwind of emotions, unsure of what to feel.

"So, Mrs—sorry—Doctor," Jungkook’s counterpart interjects, the slip of your title not an accident but a tactic that has Jungkook sitting up straighter in his chair, adjusting his suit. He senses the tension in the air and doesn’t like where this is headed. "What you’re saying is that it’s not possible?"

"Y-yes." You can see how the slip-up has thrown you off balance; your tone falters, but you fight to maintain your confidence, even as you avoid Jungkook’s gaze.

"Not in this lifetime or the next?" The pressure mounts, and you feel the anxiety bubbling within you, your palms growing clammy as your heart races.

"I’ll never want to be with you again in this life or the next," you had yelled at Jungkook one night before your divorce, the memory echoing painfully in your mind.

What the hell is happening? Your heart constricts, and you feel the weight of the room pressing down on you.

"Yes," you say, your voice firmer now, desperate to move past this line of questioning. The only time you’ve ever been in a courtroom was to sign your divorce papers.

"And perhaps, do you think you’re not knowledgeable enough to determine this?" he presses, and you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"No. If you’re not satisfied, I have many other doctors’ statements with me," you retort, a hint of cockiness creeping into your tone.

"Not necessary." He shrugs it off, turning to his table to pick up some papers. "But I do have to ask..."

A smirk plays on his lips, and Jungkook feels a knot of anxiety tighten in his stomach.

"Are you maybe a little biased in your opinion because of your close relationship with Counsel Jeon?"

You freeze, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. Stay calm, Y/N.

"What do you mean?" you ask, your voice steady but your heart racing.

"Objection, Your Honor. What he’s asking is unnecessary," Jungkook interjects, his voice firm.

"Overruled."

Jungkook groans, frustration boiling beneath the surface. This isn’t what he wanted, but he should have expected it. He got too carried away enjoying your presence, even if he won’t acknowledge it.

"Go on, Counsel." Now you’re about to be grilled about something you’re not prepared for.

"Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Ms. or Mrs.," he jeers.

"I prefer Dr.," you snap back, irritation flaring as you feel your professionalism slipping.

"Doctor, are you married?"

You chuckle, the absurdity of the question almost making you laugh.

"In front of the court?" you tease, your tone a mix of annoyance and playfulness. Jungkook can’t help but feel a swell of pride at how you’re handling yourself. You’ve always had to defend yourself against his family, and he’s felt like a coward for not standing up for you when you needed it most.

"That’s not what I mean, and you know it."

You shrug your shoulders, insinuating otherwise, and take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"No, I’m not."

"So, divorced? Because it was made known to me that you and Counsel Jeon had an intimate relationship." His words cut deep, and you bite your inner cheek, hoping you don’t draw blood. "Could your statement and judgment be influenced by the romance you two share, henceforth you help him and influence others to do so?"

Your mouth goes dry, and you take a moment to collect yourself, refusing to look at Jungkook, afraid of the look in his eyes that might make you break down.

"Jeon and I don’t share any sort of relationship outside of this courtroom," you say, your heart constricting painfully. Jungkook shifts in his seat, frustration simmering as he wishes he could react, but he knows he can’t.

"But you have, am I right?" he bellows, clinging to the idea. "Four years ago, married for two years, no children." With each word, you bite harder into your cheek, feeling the pressure mounting.

"Your Honor!" Jungkook tries to interject, but he’s ignored.

You glance at the judge, and Jungkook recognizes that look on your face —the same look you’d give him at family dinners, a silent plea for him to speak up, to defend you. But he never did, and the weight of that regret crushes him. Why was he such a coward? The determination to protect you surges within him, and he knows he can’t let this continue.

The judge looks at you, waiting for your answer.

So, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself against the onslaught of emotions.

"Yes," you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Who ended the relationship?" he snaps back, the pressure mounting like a vice around your chest.

"I did," you respond quickly, the words spilling out before you can think.

"And was it because of something he did or something you did?"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Jungkook’s voice cuts through the tension, sounding more agitated than he intended. His assistant can see how unlike him he’s being; he’s never responded with this much emotion, but the stakes are too high.

"Skip the question, Counsel." The judge’s tone is firm, and Jungkook feels a flicker of satisfaction, but it’s not enough. He needs to get you out of this situation.

"Why did you end the relationship?" The defence attorney presses, and you can feel the weight of the room closing in on you.

"The typical—I wasn’t happy," you say blandly, though inside, the iron taste of anxiety lingers.

"Have you and Mr. Jeon rekindled that old flame?"

Would you call hanging out to prepare for this case rekindling? No. Would you call enjoying his presence and calling him for small things about the case rekindling a flame?

You almost laugh, but it’s a hollow sound.

"No," you reply, your voice steady.

"Then why are you helping him here today?"

"I'm not helping him; I'm helping the little girl."

You can see a smile appear on the defence attorney's face, a smugness that makes your skin crawl.

"Do you know her personally?" he asks, dripping with sarcasm, but you refuse to bite.

"No."

"Then why help? Why should you care about a stranger?"

"I don’t need to know a person to care for them. That’s one of the reasons I am a doctor. She’s just a child, and I have an obligation to defend her when I can," you say, your voice rising with conviction.

But beneath that conviction, a deeper feeling wells up inside you—a longing to be defended yourself. All your life, you’ve faced hellfire from your parents and others, and all you ever wished for was someone to stand up for you. Maybe that’s why Jungkook had stolen your heart in high school; he was there for you, defending you from bullies and creeps. But when it came to his parents, he had failed you.

"Is it the girl you care about or Counsel Jeon?" The defence attorney’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and frustration bubbles to the surface. Your heart races, and you feel the walls closing in, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You might just have a panic attack.

Jungkook sees it, his palms sweating as he fights the urge to intervene.

"Tell the court, Doctor. Tell them how you still hold feelings for him and are doing this to get back with him. You don’t care about that little girl; you care about Jeon and helping him because you still love him, and your findings are biased and inaccurate."

His words press down on you, and you feel yourself slipping. In this moment, you’re bound to say anything—true or false—just to escape this suffocating situation. Jungkook is uncomfortable in his seat, knowing he can’t react how he wants to, but something in him still wants to know what you might say.

"I don’t love him; I was young and stupid when I married him, and it was a mistake," you rush out, frustration spilling over as you fight to free yourself from these overwhelming feelings. You don’t want to break down here, not in front of everyone, not in front of Jungkook.

You’re on the verge of tears.

The defence attorney opens his mouth to speak, but Jungkook’s voice cuts through again.

"Your Honor, my witness is uncomfortable and has done what she came to do. Anything else is unnecessary." His tone is fed up, and he’s not about to let this continue. If the judge says no, he’ll pull you out of here, consequences be damned. He can’t bear to watch you suffer like this. He’s hurt you enough in your life, and he blames himself for forcing you into this situation.

"I’ll agree with Counsel on this," the judge finally says. "The witness is free from the box."

You let out a sigh of relief, but it’s hard to move. The weight of the moment lingers, and you feel the tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. You turn on your heel and storm out of the courtroom, not daring to glance back at Jungkook. The rush of emotions is overwhelming, and you can feel the tears welling up, blurring your vision as you push through the door.

"Y/N, wait!" Jungkook calls after you, his voice cutting through the chaos in your mind. You can hear his footsteps echoing behind you, but you don’t stop. You need to get away, to breathe, to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the courtroom and the weight of the past that hangs between you.

Once you’re in a clear area, he catches up to you, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. "I can’t just let you go like this."

You pull away, your heart racing. "I came here to help, not to get grilled about something I’m still trying to forget, Jungkook." Your voice trembles, the tears finally spilling down your cheeks. You wipe them away angrily, but they keep coming, each drop a reminder of the pain you’ve been trying to suppress.

Jungkook’s heart breaks at the sight of you, vulnerable and raw. He’s seen you cry before, but this feels different—more intense, more real. "I know, and I’m sorry. That’s how the court is. But it’s my fault," he says, stepping closer, his voice low and earnest.

"If I had known, I would’ve—"

"You would’ve what? Defended me? There’s nothing you’ve ever done to defend me unless it was to soothe your own ego or pride," you spit out, the venom in your words reflecting the hurt that has festered for so long.

"Y/N…" He pleads, searching for the right words, but they elude him. You’re the only person in this world who can silence him, whether it’s with your sweetness or your rage. Normally, he’d have a comeback for anyone else, but with you, he’s left speechless.

"Don’t say anything. I’ve helped you, and I honestly hope you win—not for you, but for that little girl." You take a shaky breath, trying to regain your composure. "But please, never come to my work again or even call. Please." Your voice softens at the end, a desperate plea that cuts through the anger.

His heart aches at your words. You’re asking him to leave you alone, but deep down, he knows you don’t really mean it. Your heart is pleading for him to hold you, to tell you that everything will be okay, that he’s there to protect you. But he can’t say that now—not when you’re so hurt.

He doesn’t fight back, not like he usually would. This time, it’s strategic. He knows you’re angry, and there’s nothing he can say to change that. He respects your wishes, but he won’t let you go—not this time. He’s let his cowardice and lack of effort keep you from him for too long, and he’s realized he doesn’t want to be away from you anymore.

"Truly trouble in paradise?" The voice that had once torn down your walls now cuts through the tension like a knife, and Jungkook can think of nothing but the seething rage boiling inside him.

"You’re a fucking piece of shit," Jungkook growls, his voice heavy and thick with fury. He barely registers the curious glances from those around him; all he can focus on is the man standing before him, the source of his torment.

"Being good doesn’t pay, Jeon," the man sneers, a smug grin plastered across his face. In an instant, Jungkook’s anger ignites, and he lunges forward, wrapping his fist around the man’s collar, the force of his grip wiping the smile off his face. The adrenaline surges through him, amplifying his strength and fury. He could easily crush this man, and the thought is intoxicating.

But just as he’s about to unleash his pent-up rage, his assistant, Jaehyun, steps in, urgency lacing his voice. "Jungkook, please." He grips Jungkook’s arm, trying to pull him back from the brink. Jungkook’s jaw clenches tighter, his eyes locked onto the man beneath him, a tempest of anger and pain swirling within. He’s ready to say fuck it and end this right here, right now. He could do it, and a dark part of him wants to.

But he knows better. This isn’t just about him; it’s about you. It’s about the mess that has become your lives, and he can’t let his anger spiral out of control—not for himself, not for anyone, and especially not for you.

With a surge of frustration, he shoves the man backward, watching as he stumbles but manages to catch himself, quickly dusting off his shirt. The sight only fuels Jungkook’s rage further.

"Fuck you, you piece of shit," Jungkook snarls one last time, his voice low and dangerous.

The man smirks, a cruel glint in his eyes. "I’m not the one with a failed marriage, Jeon." The words hang in the air, a taunt that cuts deeper than any physical blow. Jungkook feels the heat of humiliation wash over him, a reminder of everything he’s lost.

"Where’s she?" he demands, his hand running through his hair in a desperate attempt to regain control.

"She’s left. She got into a cab," an intern reports, the words hitting Jungkook like a punch to the gut.

"Fuck," he breathes, his fingers tangling in his slicked-back hair, ruining the carefully styled look. The realization crashes over him like a tidal wave—he’s losing you, and the thought sends a fresh wave of panic coursing through his veins.

"It's not that serious, Y/N. That's just how my mother talks," Jungkook says as you step into your shared apartment, the familiar space feeling more like a prison than a home. It’s decent, sure, but right now, it feels suffocating.

"Insulting and degrading me is how she talks? Because I don't see her talking to you or Yujin like that," you retort, your voice sharp and laced with hurt. Jungkook’s jaw clenches at the comparison, the tension in the room thickening as he grapples with your words.

"Maybe she's still salty about me disobeying her," he mutters, making excuses for her behavior, as if that somehow justifies the way she treats you.

"That's no fucking excuse," you snap, your voice tight, hands swinging in frustration. The anger bubbling inside you is a mix of hurt and disbelief.

"Mind how you talk to me, Y/N," he barks, turning to face you, his tone harsh and commanding.

"I'll talk however I want to, seeing that you let your mother do the same," you shoot back, watching as he freezes mid-motion, the tension palpable.

You had just returned from Jungkook’s parents' place for dinner, and it had been a nightmare. You had to bite your tongue, suppressing the snarky remarks that threatened to spill out, knowing you’d be blamed for everything regardless. The only one who had stepped in was Jungkook’s father, and while you appreciated it, it felt like a hollow gesture in the face of his mother’s relentless barbs.

"She's my mother! What do you want me to say?" he hisses, frustration etched across his face.

"I WANT YOU TO FUCKING DEFEND ME!" The words burst from your lips, raw and desperate. You rub your face, trying to rein in your emotions, lowering your tone to avoid a noise complaint. "Defend me, Jungkook. That's all I want." Your voice trembles, and you can feel the tears welling up, threatening to spill over.

"I don't want to look like a joke in front of your family every single time we visit," you continue, your heart racing as you lay bare your feelings to someone who seems to be slipping further away. "Being made a fool of, even more, when you don’t say anything."

"That’s how she is, Y/N, please," he says, defending her yet again, and it feels like a knife twisting in your gut.

"Only to me?" You place a hand on your chest, trying to emphasize your pain. "I get it; I’m not the best or perfect daughter-in-law, but does that mean I have to get insulted? It’s not like I’ve ever done anything to her." You search his eyes for understanding, but all you see is a wall. Maybe he’s just fallen out of love with you. Maybe he doesn’t care anymore.

"The problem is that you always see it from your side. You're so selfish!" And there it is—his words hit you like a slap, igniting a fire of indignation within you.

"I'm selfish? What have I ever done to be called selfish?" Tears stream down your face, but you refuse to let them silence you.

"THIS! Right here. Your bratty and victim behaviour." He throws the shirt he had on onto the bed, changing into another one, as if he can shed the weight of this conversation along with his clothes.

"You're just a coward, and you'll never grow to defend anyone, honestly. Between the two of us, you're the selfish one," you say, your voice breaking as you give up trying. You’ve fought so hard, but it’s exhausting when the other person won’t even meet you halfway.

"Say whatever you want, Y/N," he replies, his tone dismissive, never acknowledging that you might be right.

"I'm just going to sleep over at my mom's," you say, the words feeling like a surrender.

"Go ahead," he mutters, not even bothering to turn and face you. The silence that follows is deafening, a chasm of unspoken words and unresolved feelings stretching between you.

You both stand there, two people in a shared space yet feeling more alone than ever, the weight of your unaddressed pain hanging heavily in the air. As you turn to leave, you can’t shake the feeling that this might be the beginning of the end.

"You sure you’re okay? Never thought you’d come here by yourself," Jimin says, handing Jungkook a private bottle. He never expected to find himself here alone either, but things change, and feelings hurt more than he cares to admit.

"Yeah, just need some alone time," Jungkook replies, his voice flat, devoid of any life. Jimin stares at him, unsure of how to approach the situation, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them.

"Work?" Jimin tries, hoping to pry a little more out of him.

"Yeah. Let’s say that." Jungkook’s response is vague, and he knows he’s not convincing anyone. But Jimin doesn’t press further, even though a million questions swirl in his mind.

He feels a pang of sympathy for his friend, especially not knowing how to help. Jungkook has been quiet and standoffish lately, but tonight feels particularly off. He swears he’s fine, but the facade is crumbling, and Jimin can see it.

"I'm sorry I won’t be with you all night; I’ve got a date." Jimin feels guilty for leaving Jungkook alone in the club, but he can’t bail. It’s not like Jungkook wants company anyway.

"You’re not gonna ask me about her?" Jimin tries to lighten the mood, but Jungkook’s expression remains stoic. He wouldn’t want anything more than to drown out the running thoughts in his head. "Fine, I’ll tell you." Jimin smirks, the thought of describing you igniting a flicker of excitement in him.

"Her name’s Y/N. She’s so gorgeous, and I invited her to hang out with me for the night." The moment your name leaves Jimin’s mouth, Jungkook’s heart drops. What the fuck did he just say? Should he be pissed? The jealousy ignites within him, a burning spite that roars louder than the music in the club. But should he even feel this way? It’s been two weeks since the court incident, and he’s been hating himself since. He hopes you’re doing better than he is.

"She’s so hard to get a hold of because she’s busy with work or something," Jimin continues, oblivious to the storm brewing inside Jungkook. With each word, Jungkook feels himself slipping further into a dark place, the alcohol numbing his senses but amplifying his emotions.

"Or maybe she doesn’t want you," Jimin adds, taking a swig from his drink. Jungkook’s mind races. You and Jimin? The thought sends a wave of anger crashing over him. He hates how things went down between you two, how he’s been unable to think about anything else. He just wants to fix it so badly, but maybe going out with Jimin would make you happy.

Jungkook knows he’s the problem, and he’s understood that for some time now. But how can he show you that he’s learned and changed? Letting you go off with someone else? Maybe that’s what he deserves.

He wishes he could say something to Jimin, tell him not to do anything with his wife��you. But he’s not in a position to make demands. It would be fair to tell Jimin who you are to him, right? But the thought of it feels like a weight too heavy to bear. He lacks the mental strength to confront the reality of his feelings.

"No, she definitely wants me. I wanna dine her and wine her, treat her good, you know?" Jimin’s words grate on Jungkook’s nerves, irritation bubbling to the surface.

"Maybe you should get going," Jungkook says, his tone harsher than he intended, the frustration spilling over.

"You’re right." Jimin takes the hint, perhaps realizing he shouldn’t be talking about himself right now. "Enjoy yourself." He walks away, leaving Jungkook to wallow in his thoughts, his jaw locked and his hand tightly wrapped around his glass.

As the music thumps around him, Jungkook’s mind spirals. He can’t shake the image of you with Jimin, the thought gnawing at him like a relentless itch. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the jealousy and regret swirl within him, a tempest he can’t escape.

Soon, he finds himself wandering around the bar, lost in a haze of emotions, searching for something—anything—to distract him from the reality of what he’s losing. The night stretches on, and with each passing moment, the weight of his choices presses down harder, leaving him feeling more alone than ever.

"Just sign here," your lawyer says, sliding the paperwork across the table to Jungkook. He feels as if the air has been sucked from the room, and he can’t breathe. He holds his breath until the reality of the moment crashes down on him, forcing him to gasp for air. It feels like he’s dying anyway, suffocating under the weight of what’s about to happen.

On the other side of the table, you haven’t been breathing since those damn papers were printed out and handed to you. You know you’ve made stupid choices in your life, but now you’re left questioning which is more foolish: marrying at such a young age or choosing to divorce Jungkook.

"So that’s it?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he drags the pen across the dotted line. He can’t bring himself to look at you, his gaze fixated on your lawyer instead. Deep down, he had a feeling this would happen, but why wasn’t he prepared to fight for you? If you were so eager to end it, maybe you didn’t want to make it work, and he wasn’t going to force you. But the bitterness of it all gnaws at him, and he can’t help but hate you for this. There’s so much he despises about himself in this moment.

"Yes," your lawyer replies, holding the papers closer, as if they’re a lifeline. A heavy, suffocating weight washes over you as you stare at Jungkook, who can’t even muster the strength to meet your gaze or try to stop you from doing this. Anger and bitterness swell within you, so overwhelming that you can’t bear to be in his presence any longer. You turn and walk out, already having taken all your things from your shared home. There’s no need to see him again.

He didn’t even fight. The words echo in your mind as your lawyer follows behind you, leading you to their car. You glance back at the entrance door, half-expecting him to come after you, to call your name, to plead with you to stay.

But he doesn’t.

Something keeps Jungkook frozen in place, hands trembling and breath coming in labored gasps. Is this how it feels to be heartbroken? He never thought it would happen, not to him, not to you two. You were each other’s first love, always together, and never had anything this grand happen before. All he can think about is how you gave up on what you had, how you threw everything away.

Selfish.

"Get a grip of yourself," Taehyung says, his eyes focused on the baby he’s rocking and feeding. "She'll cool down." Taehyung is never serious enough to grasp the gravity of things, which makes Jungkook roll his eyes so far back he might just see the moon.

"I really fucked up," he says for the hundredth time since that night, as if repeating it will somehow make it less true. "I was so selfish." The words sink deeper into his skin each time he utters them, like a bad tattoo he can’t scrub off. He had spent so long thinking it was your fault, ignoring his own feelings and the situation, never reflecting on it until now. "All she wanted was for me to care." He buries his head in his palms, closing his eyes to wallow in the darkness of his misery.

"I'm so fucking shitty," he continues, and Taehyung listens, trying to block the baby’s ears from Jungkook’s foul language. The baby coos, blissfully unaware of the emotional turmoil swirling around her.

"It’s pissing me off that this is when I’m actually seeing it. I spent so much time trying to ignore it." Jungkook can’t seem to find a comfortable position on Taehyung’s couch, shuffling around like a toddler who just drank too much juice.

"That’s why it’s good to reflect," Taehyung says, not really helping but still managing to sound wise. The baby lets out a little gurgle, and Taehyung quickly rocks her to quiet her down. His wife had gone out to buy some things and hang out with her friends, leaving Taehyung more than happy to babysit.

"But I’ve changed, haven’t I?" Jungkook stares at Taehyung, who’s clearly lost in his own world but still hears the question.

"It’s shocking," Taehyung replies, deadpan. From what he’s seen, Jungkook has definitely evolved from his childish self. His childish self would’ve either hidden under the bed, afraid of his own feelings, or yelled out in rebellion against them. Taehyung can actually see how grown his friend has become, but that doesn’t mean he’s fully synthesized maturity.

"How am I going to prove that to her?" Jungkook asks, his voice tinged with desperation.

"I don’t know," Taehyung deadpans, and Jungkook shoots him a look that could curdle milk.

"Thanks for the help, buddy," Jungkook mutters, feeling like he’s talking to a wall.

Taehyung shrugs, clearly not interested in baby-feeding Jungkook the answers. He’s just an ear, and he did his part.

"Did I tell you that Jimin invited her there, and that’s the only reason I got to see her? Fucking universe," Jungkook continues to ramble on. He’s usually quiet these days, so should Taehyung be happy that his friend is talking or antsy that he’s never shutting up?

"You did tell him?" Taehyung asks, finally meeting Jungkook’s eyes.

"No. I couldn’t. I don’t know why."

“Does she know?”

“Doubt it.”

Taehyung groans and chuckles, but low enough not to stir the baby. "Do you think they’ll..."

Jungkook lifts a brow at his friend. "What? Hook up?" The thought itches at his core, and now that he’s thinking about it, he wishes he had told Jimin. He can still call, right? "I hope fucking not," he spits out, bitterness dripping from his words.

"He doesn’t know, and you didn’t tell him, so you can’t blame them." Taehyung’s right, and it bugs Jungkook even more. He feels so stupid.

Jimin was a friend Jungkook had after your divorce, and since he never saw you, you never got to meet him. Jungkook and anyone else never talked about you, so Jimin was lost at the fact that Jungkook had been married to you, though he did know that the guy had been divorced after a drunk night of Taehyung talking nonsense.

"I’m so fucking stupid, stupid," Jungkook grumbles like a child, and Taehyung laughs, now holding the infant over his shoulder to burp her.

"Spent so many years being bitter and hating her when it was my fucking fault." The realizations keep dawning on him like a bad sitcom.

"Dick move."

"You’re not helping," Jungkook snaps, but Taehyung just laughs at the thought that he’s here to help him. Right now, he’s just playing the role of the listener so that Jungkook doesn’t look crazy for talking to himself and making these realizations. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help or advise his friend; it’s just that there’s not much he can do except listen.

"Look, I’m not on your side; I’m on the side of whatever’s gonna get you back together," Taehyung states, his tone serious for a moment.

"She won’t even talk to me, Tae," Jungkook pouts, but it goes unnoticed by his friend, who’s too busy celebrating the successful burp of the baby.

"You don’t know that," Taehyung replies, still rocking the baby gently.

"Maybe I don’t want her to," Jungkook mutters, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. "Maybe I want her to just keep ignoring me and move on with her life." Something in him wishes he could leave you alone to set you free from himself, but that was the same mindset that got him divorced in the first place. Maybe if he fought for you, you’d be in a better place. So that’s what he wants to do—fight for you this time.

"I was really such a bad husband. So stupid and naive. I’d be mad at me too," he admits, his voice heavy with regret.

Taehyung continues to walk around, rocking the baby. "Maybe instead of telling me this, you should tell her."

"She doesn’t even want to see me! How am I gonna do that?" Jungkook exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He genuinely doesn’t know, and he’s never known a foolproof plan that could help him. He’s just hoping the universe can lend a helping hand, seeing that it’s been invested in their relationship anyway.

"I don’t know, but just remember to not be a creep," Taehyung advises, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

"Thanks for the tip, Dr. Phil," Jungkook retorts, rolling his eyes. "I’ll just show up at her door with flowers and a serenade. What could go wrong?"

"Hey, if you can pull off a serenade without scaring her away, I’d pay to see that," Taehyung chuckles, and the baby lets out a tiny sound, as if she’s in on the joke.

"So how are you feeling?" Rosie asks, noticing how deeply you're staring into your coffee, as if it holds the answers to all your questions.

You continue to stir it absentmindedly, letting out a sigh. Not even the cozy warmth of the café seems to ease the turmoil inside you.

"To be honest, I don’t know," you reply, releasing an empty chuckle. All you've been thinking about is Jungkook. You’re not even sure what about him, but the fact that he occupies your mind so much is starting to annoy you. And Rosie can see it too.

"Do you think talking to him could make it better?" she asks, taking a cautious sip of her drink, her eyes searching yours for a hint of clarity.

You manage a smile and finally meet her gaze. "I don’t even want to think about talking to him."

"Yn," Rosie whines, leaning in slightly. "You need to. Not for him, but for you."

You sigh again, feeling the weight of her words. "It’s just really hard to do." You stare off into the distance, lost in thought about what you really want to do.

What is right?

"Do you think you still have feelings for him?" she treads lightly, gauging your reaction.

"I don’t know," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing him has definitely made me think a lot, but that doesn’t change anything. I don’t even know if he’s changed as a person."

"If he has, would you get back with him?" She raises a brow, fully focused on you now, her curiosity piqued.

You throw her an undecided look, your brow furrowing in confusion.

A smile grows on her face. "You would, wouldn’t you?" she laughs, and you shake your head, letting out a nervous laugh of your own.

You're blushing, and it feels like a betrayal to your own feelings.

"I never said that," you protest, trying to sound firm but failing to hide the uncertainty in your voice.

"It’s not about what you said; it’s about what you’ve shown," she counters, her tone teasing yet insightful.

With a shrug and a heavy silence, the conversation hangs in the air. You’ve been asking yourself that same question too, and honestly, you aren’t sure of the answer. You just don’t want to think about it at all.

"I'd love to, Tae, thank you," you reply, your voice a little shaky. Taehyung called you unexpectedly, and when you saw his name flash on your screen, a wave of anxiety washed over you. Part of you feared he was calling to ask about what happened between you and Jungkook, and you honestly wouldn’t know where to begin if that were the case. So, you’re relieved when he doesn’t bring it up.

"When?" you ask, trying to sound casual, but your heart races. You never thought he was serious about the dinner plans he made, let alone that he would actually remember them. But he did, and once he got the chance, he made sure to reserve a table for four and call you over. He didn’t mention the reservation for four part, though; he probably thought it would be better to let you find out when you arrived, so you wouldn’t run away.

"Will Sunday be good for you?" he asks, his voice sounding professional, which makes you assume he’s at work. It’s Wednesday, so that makes sense.

"Yeah, sounds perfect," you agree, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling in your stomach. It’s just you, Taehyung, and his wife—there’s really nothing to be anxious about, right?

As Sunday approaches, you find yourself in a bit of a panic. It’s one of those fancy restaurants, and the exceptional service is only proof of how upscale it is. You struggle to find something decent to wear, your nerves making it hard to focus. After a good search in Rosie’s closet, you finally find the perfect dress. Perfect for who? You, of course.

Rosie is a little skeptical about you going to dinner with Taehyung, but you explain that he’s still a good friend and you wouldn’t want to decline the offer because that would offend him. Plus, it’s not like you don’t want to be there; you don’t mind. After all, it’s Jungkook who’s the problem, not Taehyung.

She reluctantly accepts your reasoning, but along with her questions, she expresses her concern that Jungkook might be there. That’s a point of contention. You swear to her that Jungkook wouldn’t be there, and she swears that he would. You don’t want to acknowledge the idea, but the fear of the possibility still lingers. If Jungkook was going to be there, Taehyung would have mentioned it, right?

As you walk into the restaurant, the server gestures for you to hand him your jacket, and you do so, your hands trembling slightly. He then directs you to the table where you’ll be seated once you tell him the name the reservation is under.

You walk through the room, your long, form-fitting dress hugging your curves. The rich red color complements your skin beautifully, and you can’t help but feel a little more confident. You really like this dress and doubt you’ll be giving it back. The thin straps rest delicately on your shoulders, and the straight neckline keeps your chest modest yet elegant. You hope you’re not over or underdressed.

When you finally spot Taehyung, he nods over to you, and you let out a sigh of relief, realizing you’re neither under nor overdressed. His wife is wearing a cream satin dress, but you can’t determine the length since she’s seated and hidden by the table. Taehyung has a warm smile on his face, dressed in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up, looking effortlessly charming. You walk toward them with a smile and a little excitement bubbling inside you.

That’s until Taehyung turns to talk to someone else. His wife is sitting on his other side, so if it’s not her he’s talking to, then…

Your body freezes for a second, and you contemplate turning around right now. The door isn’t so far away; you could make a run for it. You can feel your joints go rigid, but somehow, you find your way back to your chair. You let out a sigh as you take your seat, trying to shake off the tension. Jungkook had wanted to pull your chair out for you, but you brushed him off, and he was polite enough to accept your refusal.

You try to contain the rapid beating of your heart, which is now racing because of the unexpected presence of the man sitting next to you. Straightening your back and rubbing your palms together, you attempt to maintain the light and warm ambiance at the table. The last thing you want is for Jungkook’s presence to affect how you present yourself tonight.

Turning to greet Taehyung’s wife, Jian, you feel a flicker of relief since she’s the only one at the table you’re not annoyed with. Taehyung really brought you here knowing Jungkook would be here too. Was he in on it, or did he come here unaware of your presence? Are you both being set up right now? Is this some sort of intervention? You’re aware of how much Taehyung likes you and Jungkook together, and while you appreciate his concern, some things are just meant to be forgotten, buried.

“How are you?” you ask Jian, trying to sound cheerful despite the turmoil inside you. She greets you back with the same enthusiasm.

“You look so beautiful! How’s the baby?” You couldn’t help but ask; something about the doctor in you wanted to know.

“Perfect. My mom’s been a huge help,” she replies, her bright smile lighting up her face as she gracefully brushes her long, straight hair out of her eyes.

“That’s lovely,” you say, genuinely pleased for her.

“You look gorgeous too,” she compliments, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping in.

“I try,” you respond, attempting to stay modest. You don’t think you’re all that, but you do make an effort from time to time. Jungkook, on the other hand, would disagree; he thinks (knows) you look good in whatever you choose to wear, even when you don’t try. However, he’s not going to argue that you look stunning tonight. He could barely keep his eyes off you as you walked to the table. You couldn’t see him, but he could see you, and you looked great. He wanted to die, but Taehyung had to remind him to pull himself together.

It was then that your body shifted from fluid to solid. You had noticed him, and you didn’t seem happy at all. Jungkook felt a pang in his chest when you stopped him from pulling your chair out for you. He’s not going to blame you for it, though.

“It’s nice to see you out of your scrubs,” Taehyung says, and you can’t help but lower your eyes at him. He notices your glare and understands the reason for it. The little smirk he gives you makes you want to smack him right across the face. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

You chuckle, but it’s bitter.

“I’m sorry if I kept you all waiting,” you apologize, playing with your fingers as they rest in your lap. They hadn’t ordered yet, probably waiting for you, and your overthinking takes over, soon turning into guilt. You did try your best to get here on time, and you did, but you still say it anyway. Maybe it’s your internal tactic to lessen your nerves.

“No, you didn’t. Jungkook just came before you,” Taehyung says, clearly eager to push the agenda.

When he remembered he wanted to make plans for dinner, he told Jungkook and planned on bringing him too so they could talk. But right now, Jungkook looks like he’s going to lose his head, his eyes glued to the menu like a child.

“Mm,” is all you can manage as the awkwardness begins to grow, thickening the air around you. You can feel Jungkook’s presence beside you, and it’s both comforting and unsettling. You steal a glance at him, and he’s still focused on the menu, but you can sense the tension radiating off him.

The conversation around the table continues, but you find it hard to engage. Your mind is racing, and you can’t shake the feeling that this dinner is about to take a turn you’re not prepared for. You take a sip of your drink, hoping it will calm your nerves, but it only amplifies the fluttering in your stomach.

"She's such a good and peaceful baby, honestly," Jian exclaims with joy, and you can’t help but smile at how happy she is to talk about her little one. Taehyung stares at her, completely enamored with everything about her.

"I think she takes that from Jian," he adds, and laughter fills the air as everyone agrees. Between the couple, Jian is definitely the more relaxed and laid-back one. It’s funny how in your relationship with Jungkook, it had been the opposite. He was the laid-back one while you were the more outgoing, which is one of the reasons you got along so well with Taehyung. But for some reason, in this situation where you’d normally be talkative and engaged, you feel off and out of it. Jungkook notices your silence and curses himself for even coming; he feels like he’s ruined your night. He should have just left. Or not come at all.

You all order your food, each of you choosing what you want. You’re not entirely sure about some of the items on the menu, but the only person you could ask is the one you’re trying to avoid speaking to. So, you go for something you think will go best with how you’re feeling tonight.

Soon, the food arrives, one by one. Jungkook watches as your plate is placed in front of you. It’s not because he envies the meal—though it does look good—but because of the yellow garnishes on top that you hadn’t noticed. Just before the plate touches the table, Jungkook intercepts. “These have pineapples on them?” he asks the waiter, his tone serious.

“Yes, sir, it’s used for garnishing,” the waiter replies, and you watch as Jungkook investigates the young man, his face stern and his tone confident.

“Please bring her one without pineapples; she’s allergic,” he insists, and that’s all you can think about. Your heart flutters at how he remembers something about you, or maybe it’s just the effect of being close to pineapples.

How could he forget? Just because you aren’t together doesn’t mean he’s going to forget everything about you. How could he forget the little things about you that kept him up all night?

“You’re still allergic, right?” he asks, and you nod, finally acknowledging his presence for the first time during the night. You hadn’t realized that the meal you ordered was garnished with fancy-cut pineapples that you never would have noticed. You appreciate that he remembered and was able to spot it; otherwise, the night would have been even worse.

The way he stares at you, worry coating his eyes, makes you want to melt. You’ve just realized how much you missed this part of Jungkook—the one who would lead and speak out for you, the one who got you through those high school days.

“Sure, I’ll be right back,” the waiter says, bowing slightly before walking away with your plate.

Before your eyes move to your lap, they land on Jungkook, who’s staring right into them and welcoming them with a smile. You quickly look away, clearing your throat, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

Fuck, does he want to make this harder for you? Why is this so much more difficult than it should be? Your heart hasn’t stopped racing since you saw him, and you wish you could just pull it out and burn it. Why the hell is it beating so fast around him?

“That would’ve been bad,” you awkwardly chuckle, and Jungkook hums, feeling warmth engulf him. It’s a warmth mixed with a little confidence—the confidence to talk to you. Though he doesn’t show it, Jungkook is no better. He can feel his collared shirt grow tighter, even with one button undone. It’s as if he’s not comfortable in his own skin and just wants to rip out of it and beg you to talk to him. It’s tiring to just play it cool.

You wait for your food, and as you do, you notice that Jungkook hasn’t touched his. He’s simply looking around, not doing a very good job of it.

You want to lecture him, tell him to just eat—that’s what you’d do if you were still together. But you’re not, and the thought makes your heart go rigid. Why is it that the thought of not being with Jungkook is the only thing that stops your beating heart?

You feel bad. Maybe you’re being too difficult, and you’re a little harsh with him. Are you being too harsh? Or just looking out for yourself? Even through that, it doesn’t stop you from ignoring him. Even if you wanted to talk to him, what would you say?

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, and you can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. You glance at Jungkook again, and for a moment, your eyes meet. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze—an unspoken question, a longing, perhaps. It makes your heart race even faster, and you quickly look away, focusing on the tablecloth instead. The intricate patterns seem to swirl and dance, a distraction from the tension that’s building between you.

The waiter returns with your new plate, setting it down gently in front of you. “Here you go, one without pineapples,” he says, and you offer him a grateful smile. Jungkook watches as you pick up your fork, and you can feel his eyes on you, a weight that both comforts and unnerves you.

“Thank you,” you say softly, and for a moment, you think you see a hint of relief in Jungkook’s expression. It’s fleeting, but it’s there, and it makes you wonder if he’s been holding his breath this whole time.

“So Jungkook won his case,” Taehyung says after a moment, clearing the air for a new topic. It’s something you don’t want to think about, but you can’t help but feel a flicker of pride for him.

“That’s nice,” Jian replies, and you nod in agreement. You’re genuinely glad he won. It’s nice that at least he’s helping other people, even if it doesn’t fix your own relationship.

“And I heard a special someone had something to do with it,” Taehyung adds cheekily, his gaze shifting to you. You roll your eyes with a light chuckle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. He’s really going hard at it.

“Tae, shut up,” Jungkook snaps, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Maybe if I throw a stick, he’d leave,” he whispers, and you can’t help but laugh at that. Jungkook lifts his eyes to you, listening to the sound of your melodious chuckle that he never realized he missed. Seeing you laugh at his joke gives him a little more confidence about all of this, a glimmer of hope.

“It was fine being in court for something other than—” you start, but then you cut off your statement, not finding it appropriate to finish. Thankfully, no one decides to question you on it, and you’re relieved. Jungkook knows you well, and having been there, he understands what the end of that sentence would sound like.

“But at the end, it got really suffocating,” you smirk, knowing only Jungkook would get it. He shifts in his seat, moving a little closer to you, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him.

“I’m sorry about that again,” he says, his eyes focused on you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. Instead, you use your peripheral vision to watch his features soften as he speaks.

“Lawyers are heartless,” you say in a light-hearted tone, the words feeling directed at Jungkook, but he’ll never know that.

You all laugh, the sound filling the space between you, but it feels different now—charged with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

“Not our Kookie, though,” Taehyung chimes in, grinning. “Very un-heartless.”

You chuckle, but there’s a weight to your words. “Yeah, very.” You finally turn your eyes to meet Jungkook’s, and in that moment, your words feel empty, but your eyes aren’t. They hold a depth of feeling that you can’t quite articulate, a mixture of nostalgia, longing, and something else—something you’re not ready to name.

Jungkook’s expression shifts as he holds your gaze, and for a heartbeat, the world around you fades away. It’s just the two of you, caught in a moment that feels both familiar and foreign. You can see the flicker of emotions in his eyes, and it makes your heart race.

After some time, Jungkook just decides to say fuck it. He can talk to a large crowd, but with you, he feels paralyzed. You’re just one person—one person with his heart on the line. He knows he has to say something to you, and he just hopes you’re open to talking.

Do you even feel anything? Are you feeling the way he is? Does he have an effect on you like you have on him? Because if you don’t, then he’s going to feel like a fool. He just hopes you feel the same way. In high school, you were the one worried if he felt the same, but now it’s him.

After all, you could have moved on. You could be better and not need him. But unlike the image of you he has in his mind, he’s not okay. Not okay with this distance. He hates it.

“How are you enjoying your food?” he asks, turning to you while Taehyung and Jian talk about whatever.

“Good, it’s nice to come out once in a while,” you reply. It’s not a one-word answer, and he’ll take it. Is it his imagination, or do you seem interested in talking to him?

“How often are you busy?” he gulps, “with work, of course.” He sounds stupid and nervous, but you find it cute. Why do you find it cute? It’s really hard not to feel this way about someone you already know so well.

“Enough to make me want to pluck my eyes out,” you laugh, and he smiles. Even though you don’t make eye contact with him, he can feel you warming up to him. “But recently, work has been light,” you add, talking to him like you would when he asked you about your classes in high school.

“You like it?” he asks, hoping it’s not weird, but he can’t take his eyes off you. He just can’t.

“I do,” you reply, and he feels his heart thaw like frozen meat.

“T—that’s good,” he stammers, taking a bite of his food to stop the smile that threatens to spread across his face.

All of this is nice, but you can’t help but feel overwhelmed. You feel confused. Is he just talking to you because you’re the only one he has to talk to, or is he actually interested? It’s like being promised something only for the promise to be broken. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Not again.

“Please, excuse me,” you say, your head held down as you stand up from the table.

“Sure,” he replies, but soon grows worried. He brushes it off, telling himself he’s overthinking it. It’s going well; you’re talking to him, and that’s what matters. Baby steps.

You leave for the bathroom, needing some air that isn’t filled with Jungkook’s scent, which is now engraved in your sinuses and will probably haunt you. While in the bathroom, you pull out your phone and text Jimin, asking if you’re still on for later. You had made plans with him, and you did want to go, but now that you’re staring at the text, you wonder if what you’re doing is right.

It’s not like you and Jungkook are getting back together, and whatever this is between you two feels complicated. It just feels wrong. Maybe you should just cancel. Jimin’s a good guy, though, and he doesn’t deserve this. It’s better for him to find someone who’s sure and knows what she wants—not you, sitting in the bathroom contemplating where you and your ex stand.

“Stop being so awkward, man,” Taehyung says, playfully pulling at Jungkook’s leg under the table.

“I’m trying,” Jungkook whines, his frustration evident. “It’s hard.”

“You can talk up a whole court, but you can’t with Y/N?” Taehyung teases, raising an eyebrow.

“Plus, it’s not that hard,” Jian chimes in, pulling Jungkook’s attention away from his spiraling thoughts. She should be the only one he takes advice from, he thinks. “Just show up and put in effort in the conversation, and she’ll warm up to you.”

“See how she warmed up to you when you asked about her work?” Taehyung adds, and Jungkook starts to get it. “All Y/N wants is for you to show up and be there to listen and care.” Taehyung feels like a relationship counsellor right now; he should get paid for this. If their relationship works out, Jungkook should definitely pay him.

Jian places a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder to shut him up, a knowing smile on her face. “But don’t forget to be the guy she fell in love with,” she adds, her tone serious yet encouraging.

Jungkook sighs, feeling the weight of their words. He knows he needs to be himself, the version of him that made you smile, the one who could make you laugh until your sides hurt. But the fear of messing things up again looms over him like a dark cloud.

“I think I’ll get that one,” you say, pointing at the dish you’ve chosen.

“Alright,” the waiter notes it down, his pen scratching against the notepad.

Jungkook leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “They have banana pudding on the menu,” he whispers, knowing how much you love it.

“Really?” Your face lights up with excitement as you turn to the waiter. “How good is your banana pudding?”

“The best,” he boasts with a confident grin.

“Then I’ll have that instead,” you say, your smile widening as you place your order.

Once the waiter walks away, you glance back at Jungkook, who has been momentarily distracted by the pianist playing softly in the corner. But as soon as he feels your gaze on him, his eyes shift to meet yours. The moment feels electric, and you find yourself wanting to look away, but you hold your ground, challenging yourself to stay connected.

Jungkook watches you softly, waiting for you to speak. “You remember how much I like banana pudding?” you ask, your voice light and teasing. It feels a bit childish, and you want to slap yourself for it, but Jungkook seems to be enjoying this playful banter.

“Of course,” he replies, his familiar bunny smile spreading across his face. “Remember that time you almost killed me for eating the last one?”

You burst into laughter, the memory flooding back. “You should’ve known better,” you say, shaking your head in mock disapproval.

“I should’ve,” he admits, chuckling along with you.

Taehyung, sitting across the table, can’t help but feel giddy as he watches the two of you smile at each other. It’s like a scene from a romantic movie, and he’s here for it. The atmosphere around the table feels lighter, filled with warmth and nostalgia.

“Y/N, how did you travel?” Jian asks, reminding you that the night has to come to an end.

“Uber,” you reply, a hint of reluctance in your voice.

“So you’re going back with an Uber?” she clarifies, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you say, because what other options do you have?

Taehyung turns to look at Jungkook, who seems as lost as ever. “Maybe Jungkook can drop you off,” he suggests, a hopeful tone in his voice.

Why hadn’t you thought of that? You smile sheepishly at the idea, but it makes you sweat a little. “No, I’m good. Don’t want to burden you,” you say, trying to brush it off.

“You’re not a burden,” Jungkook says immediately, his voice firm as he hears you call yourself that. You’d never be a burden to him. “Plus, it’s late, and Ubers aren’t all that safe. Let me drive you home.”

You want to say, “How sure are you that you’ll be safe with him?” but it would just sound stupid. Jungkook has never once made you feel unsafe. In fact, the thought of being alone with him feels comforting. It’d be a good chance to save some money—or more like have more time with Jungkook. “Okay, sure,” you say, not wanting to argue.

“My car’s over there,” Jungkook points to the opposite side of the parking lot, and you realize you should probably say your goodbyes now.

“It was nice seeing you, Y/N,” Jian says as she pulls you into a hug. She hopes you and Jungkook get back together so that she can spend more time with you.

“Nice to see you too,” you hug her back. “Say hi to the baby for me.”

“If she’ll understand,” Jian laughs.

“I’m sure Taehyung will communicate,” you throw Taehyung a side-eye, and he narrows his eyes back at you, feigning offense.

He hugs you tightly. “Thanks for coming,” he says, and the embrace gives you flashbacks of the time he hugged you at the hospital.

You pat his back. “No problem. I enjoyed it.”

“I’ll call you; please don’t avoid me,” he says, his voice earnest.

You raise your hands in defense. “I never do.” But as you think about it, would you ignore him if he called? It would be weird, right? Especially not knowing where you and Jungkook are going. If you and Jungkook don’t work out (you can’t believe you’re even thinking about it), does that mean you wouldn’t have to talk to Taehyung or Jian again?

“Goodnight, bro,” Taehyung says to Jungkook.

“Goodnight,” Jungkook replies.

“Take her straight home, okay?” Taehyung lifts a warning finger to Jungkook, and you and he scoff.

“Taehyung, let’s go,” Jian says, pulling him away, and you all laugh. If Taehyung hadn’t pushed Jungkook, would he even be in this position? A position of opportunity to make up for everything or at least show you that he’s trying.

Once the goodbyes are over, you walk to Jungkook’s car, and you can’t help but bulge your eyes at how beautiful it is. He opens the door for you. “Thank you,” you say politely. Just when you think he’s about to close the door, he leans in.

“I’m sorry, can I take a call?” he asks, and the height difference, along with the way he looks down at you, makes you want to melt into a puddle.

“Don’t let me stop you,” you manage to say, trying to keep up with your racing mind.

You watch him walk in front of the car and further away. You can’t help but wonder who could be on the other end. Work? Taehyung? Or maybe a girlfriend? You never did find out if he’s single or if he’s been out. You’re sure he has. It’s not like you weren’t. But you feel the same type of incompletion when you spend time with other people.

The thought of him talking to some girlfriend right now sends a swarm of moths fluttering in your stomach. You won’t ask; it’s none of your business.

No matter how much your mind wanders, you can’t deny that you’re ogling how huge Jungkook has gotten. His shoulders, his muscles, which his shirt does a bad job of hiding. He’s built like he eats, sleeps, and drinks the gym. And damn, you’re getting flustered just by looking at him.

Watching how he talks on the phone, how he places his tattooed hand into his pocket, makes him look so incredibly hot. Wait, tattoos? How did you miss them? You squint to get a closer look. He actually does have them, and they make him even more attractive.

What’s wrong with you? Get it together. You’re literally drooling. When you laugh at yourself, it must have been loud because Jungkook turns to look at you. You smile, trying to prove to him that you’re okay, and he smiles back. Why do you feel so giddy? It’s just a smile.

You allow him to finish his call, which doesn’t last long. He walks back to the car, sliding into the driver’s seat, his thighs constricting against the material of his pants.

“You ready to go?” he asks, his voice low and casual, but you can feel the tension in the air.

“Yeah,” you reply, your throat suddenly dry.

He starts the car, and the engine’s purr matches the rhythm of your racing heart. As you drive through the city, the night lights paint your face in a soft glow, and you take a moment to admire the view outside the window. The city feels alive, vibrant, and you can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over you.

Jungkook glances over at you, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “You look great tonight,” he says, almost too quietly, but you catch it. His fingers drum against the steering wheel, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up, but the red light from the traffic stop hides it well.

“You still have that necklace?” he asks, his eyes flicking to the dainty silver chain around your neck.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you reply, instinctively holding onto it a little longer. He had gotten it for you during your honeymoon phase, but you stopped wearing it when your relationship got rocky. You hadn’t even realized you put it on for tonight.

“I enjoyed seeing you tonight,” he says, his heart pounding as he takes a chance. He did enjoy being in your presence, but did you feel the same? He can’t help but question where you stand. Do you want what he does? But he can’t ask.

Your focus drifts back to the window as you enjoy the ambiance of his car. How many women has he had in here? Were they just as at peace as you are right now? You don’t like to bother yourself with the thought, but your brain and heart are in tandem, and they won’t let it go.

The thought of him being with someone else ignites a flicker of jealousy within you. You breathe in and out, trying to calm yourself. You can’t be upset; it’s not your place. You’ve never considered yourself a jealous person. You were always sure of Jungkook’s love for you, and so was he. So there wasn’t much to be jealous of. But once your marriage and relationship began to falter, you doubted everything—the kisses, the touches, the time spent together, the ‘I love you’s. It all became foggy, the memories a blur.

And it wasn’t because they weren’t there or that you didn’t still feel deeply for him, but because there was no one to assure you they actually existed. Were you lying to yourself about Jungkook’s love? Was he lying to you?

Why would he marry you then?

You had no anchor to keep you there, only questions—questions that would never be answered at the time and questions you’d never bring yourself to ask now.

“We don’t have to talk, you know,” you say, the sentence coming out in a whisper, laced with fear, not anger. Fear that if you talk, you might end up saying more than you want to.

So, he just drives. The silence and tension consume you like fire. Not even Jimin’s text asking when he can pick you up can bring you any joy that it would have if Jungkook never existed. But he does; he exists so vividly, like a looming cloud carrying the sign of a storm—a storm that’s about to consume all the walls you’ve been building for the past four years.

Jimin: When can I pick you up?

Jungkook sees you stare at your phone like you’re about to throw it out the window. He wants to ask who you’re talking to that’s got your face in a knot, but he chooses to keep his eyes on the road this time. He can only imagine who’s texting you at this hour. Jimin? He grips the wheel tighter.

Y/N: Don’t.

Jimin: ???

Y/N: Don’t come.

Y/N: You’re a great guy, Jimin. And I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone who’s in a more stable place for you. But it’s not me. I’m really sorry. I enjoyed my time with you, but I just have a lot going on.

Jimin: An ex?

You pause and glance at Jungkook, who has one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the window sill. He doesn’t turn back to look at you.

You: I guess so.

Not really, more like just yourself.

You: I’m really sorry I got you into this. You’re a good guy.

Jimin: You’re good too. Thanks for not leading me on.

Jimin: Wish you the best.

You feel sick. You and Jimin hadn’t gone far, barely held hands . But he was hoping for more, and you feel terrible for it. You liked him; he was definitely someone you’d go for if, well… if the man driving you home right now wasn’t so much on your mind.

You: You too.

The temperature in the car shifts drastically. One moment, you’re comfortable in the warmth of the moment, and the next, you feel a chill creeping in, as if the universe is reminding you that this night is coming to an end. Just a little longer, you think. You want to hold onto this feeling, this connection, but you know it’s fleeting.

“Thanks for driving,” you say as you pull into your apartment complex, trying to break the silence that feels heavier than before.

“Not a problem,” Jungkook replies, his voice steady, but you can sense the tension beneath it. The night is over, right? It’s over. When you leave now, you’ll never see him again. Good. It’s good, right?

But it’s not over for him. As you walk toward your building, you turn to find him following closely behind you.

“Where are you going?” you ask, half-expecting him to say he has a girlfriend living in the same building that he wants to visit, and that’s the only reason he even drove you here. Your mind races with insecurities.

“Walking you up to your apartment,” he says, his tone firm yet gentle. He looks nervous, and you can see it in the way he fidgets with his hands.

“I’ll be fine,” you insist, pulling your coat closer to your body as you watch him stand there, not budging.

Just as you have a stare-down, the bush to your far left stirs. Someone stumbles out, clearly intoxicated, struggling to stand. The universe must not be on your side. The neighborhood doesn’t have drunkards roaming around much, or ever. But tonight, it seems, must be your lucky day.

You turn to Jungkook, and he gives you a look that tells you he’s not backing down.

“For my peace of mind?” he asks, his voice softening, and it almost makes you want to give in.

“Fine,” you relent, feeling a mix of annoyance and gratitude.

With the same tension and silence, you both step into the elevator to your place. As the numbers light up, Jungkook speaks, “This is a nice place.” He genuinely seems to admire it, and you can tell he’s trying to make conversation. It’s good to know you’re in a safe place.

“Yeah,” you reply, but your mind is racing. What kind of place does he live in? A mansion? A penthouse? Or just a simple apartment? What’s his décor like if he ever got that far?

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You step out, and Jungkook follows closely behind. The hallway feels long, and the silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words.

You tap in your code and step into your warm space, the familiar scent of home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Still standing by the door is Jungkook, and still holding the door open is you. Is this what you two have become? Cowards. Liars. Pretenders?

“Um, I guess this is goodnight,” you say, your eyes glued to the hinges, avoiding the weight of his gaze. How long are you going to hold on?

“I guess so,” he replies, his voice distant as he stares into your home absentmindedly. You can feel the tension thickening the air between you, and it’s suffocating. Jungkook knows he won’t get another chance to see you again if he leaves without saying anything. There’s only so far the universe can go for him.

“Can I talk to you, though?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

You sigh, feeling the familiar frustration bubbling up. “Not this again, Jungkook.” Isn’t this what you want, though? For him to talk, to communicate? What are you fighting?

“It’s alright that your friend grilled me in court; you don’t have to apologize,” you add, trying to keep your tone steady.

“It’s not fine,” he insists, his eyes narrowing slightly, determination flickering in his gaze. “He shouldn’t have. He was just trying to poke at me, and it’s not fair that you had to be in the middle.”

You don’t speak, mainly because you want to see how far this will go and how much he has to say. You can feel the weight of his words hanging in the air, and you’re not sure if you want to catch them or let them fall.

“I know I’ve been a shithouse of a guy to you, especially in the past,” he continues, his voice cracking slightly. “But I’ve changed, Y/N, and I hope you can see that.”

Do you? Do you see how his walls break down to welcome you? He could get on his knees to show you, and the thought sends a shiver down your spine. He holds onto your door for stability, as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

“Jungkook…” you start, but the words get caught in your throat. You want to believe him, to see the change he claims to have made, but the scars of the past are still fresh in your mind.

“Just hear me out,” he urges, his voice low and earnest. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you, and I can’t take that back. But I want to try. I want to be better for you, for us. I miss you, Y/N. I miss us.”

"A lot of things should have been done differently by me in our relationship and i acknowledge that." When he finishes his sentences, he looks at you. He’s eyes are filled with anger but not to you, to the memory of that day and all the guilt he feels.

"Thank you." You don’t know what more to say, it’s not your turn to talk. So, you just hold your arms to your body.

"It's what I should’ve done, its what I always should've done." He bows his head. He gives up on holding back. He’s tired, and it’s fucked for him to hide from his solace.

Sniffle.

If it’s not you he can cry to, then who?

"Jungkook,-" your heart sinks when you hear him sniffle. He’s crying. You can be distant all you want but you can’t take seeing him cry.

You close the space between you and cup his cheek. You’re tired of fighting too.

He leans into your touch and slowly wraps his hand around your wrist, praying you keep it right there.

His wide eyes stare down at you filled with tears that threaten to fall.

"I'm sorry yn. I'm really sorry and I wish I could go back in time and Change things and be better for you, for us." They fall, yours too.

"I wasn't good and I understand why you did what you did.” He doesn’t even want to call by name. “It was me, I was the selfish one and I regret it." he pulls your hand to bring it to his lips and place a kiss on your pulse. "I regret it so fucking bad yn"

"come here.” you pull him inside and shut the door.

“I was so was stupid. And I feel shitty for even trying to justify it but I was stupid.  And a dick." He kisses your wrist as you use your other hand to push back the hair that sticks to his tear stained face.

"We were both stupid." You won’t say you didn’t have your bad moments.

"Not you. You were always right and I wish I listened to you and maybe we'd be in a better position."

He closes into you, bringing your foreheads together. Instincts. You just have to do what feels natural.

"Maybe"

“Definitely,” he whispers, brushing his nose against yours, and your mouth parts instinctively. “I’m really sorry, bunny. I really am.”

The nickname he used when you were together hangs in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what once was. It used to make your heart race, but now it feels like a ghost of a feeling you can’t quite grasp anymore.

your mind has no clue where to place its home.

You breathe in the warmth of each other’s presence, lips hovering just a breath apart, the tension palpable. He gently pulls your wrist behind you, guiding your arm to wrap around his neck, while his hand finds its place on your waist. Your palm rests against his heart, feeling its frantic rhythm, a silent plea for connection. You’re wrinkling his shirt, but it’s the last thing on his mind.

His gaze is locked onto your lips, a silent yearning begging to be fulfilled. What’s stopping him? Is this what you want? Do you want him back like he wants you? The questions swirl in your mind, a tempest of doubt and desire. Have you thought about him every single day since you last saw each other? No—since the day you divorced. Did you ever truly stop thinking about the moments you shared? The late-night kisses, the laughter, the way you both craved each other’s presence like air.

His lower lip brushes against yours, and a shiver runs down your spine, igniting a flicker of longing deep within you. “I want to kiss you so bad,” he pleads, his voice thick with emotion. “Can I kiss you?”

A nod is all you can produce. You want to, you’re pulled to.

And so, he does. The moment your lips meet, it’s like a wave of relief crashing over you. He’s your relief, your solace in a world that feels chaotic and uncertain. As your lips intertwine, you wish for nothing more than to stay in this moment forever, to linger in the warmth of his embrace.

You taste exactly as he remembers—like peace, if peace had a flavor. Sweet and intoxicating, he doesn’t want to part from you. He deepens the kiss, pulling you even closer by your waist, and your hand crumples his shirt tighter, as if anchoring yourself to him.

God, you missed this. You missed him. A tear rolls down your cheek, a mix of joy and sorrow, a release of all the pent-up emotions you’ve been holding back.

But then, as if the universe is cruelly reminding you of reality, he pulls away. for a kiss that was supposed to give you an answer it brings more doubt.

The air thick with unspoken words.

“I missed you so much."

You would say you have been the confused type. From what your university major should be to who you want to be, you’ve never known. The path ahead has always felt murky, a winding road with no clear destination. But one thing you did know was that you wanted to be with Jungkook.

That's what younger you wanted anyway.

The dreams you spun in your mind were filled with laughter, love, and the warmth of his embrace. But now, as you sit here, grappling with the weight of adulthood, you find yourself asking what the adult version of you truly wants.

Amidst all the turmoil, what you really desire is to be happy—to be set free from the guilt of your previous choices. You want to shed the layers of regret that have built up over the years, the “what ifs” that haunt your thoughts like shadows.

Younger you always thought Jungkook would be the one to give you that happiness. You really wanted him to be that. The thought of his smile, the way he made you feel alive, filled you with hope. But now, as you reflect on everything that has transpired, you’d be lying to yourself if you said the thought of being with him again didn’t scare you.

The fear is palpable, a tight knot in your stomach. What if you opened your heart to him again, only to find that the past still lingers, that the wounds haven’t healed? What if the love you once shared has transformed into something unrecognizable? The idea of vulnerability feels daunting, and the stakes seem higher now than they ever were before.

You think about the late-night conversations, the dreams you shared, and the way he used to look at you as if you were the only person in the world. But you also remember the pain, the misunderstandings, and the way everything fell apart. It’s a delicate balance, and you’re not sure if you’re ready to tip the scales in either direction.

As you sit in the quiet of your thoughts, you realize that the journey to happiness isn’t just about finding the right person; it’s about finding yourself first. You need to understand what you truly want, independent of anyone else. Can you be happy on your own? Can you forgive yourself for the choices you’ve made?

Maybe all you need is to forgive yourslef and him.

The questions swirl in your mind, and you know that the answers won’t come easily. But one thing is clear: you owe it to yourself to face the truth.

Maybe it’s time to take a step back and reflect on what you need, not just what you want. You need to find your own happiness, to reclaim your identity outside of Jungkook and the love you once shared.

And yet, as you think about him, a flicker of hope ignites within you. Perhaps there’s a way to navigate this complicated landscape, to find a balance between your past and your present. Maybe, just maybe, you can rediscover the love you once had, but this time with a clearer understanding of who you are and what you truly want. But the hope is only a maere flicker of light. not enough to brighten the darkenss you've been swallowed into.

“i don’t think can.” You cry on Rosie’s lap as she pets your hair. She just listens.

“And you don’t have to.”

You sob.

“why did he have to come back.” You’ve been this confused in a while. During the years you were sure you hated jungkook. But now you realize you were just sad. Why did he have to come back into your life and why did he have to kiss you.

“you don’t have to get back with him.” She repeats.

“ I know. But why do i want to but not want to again.”

“it’s because you’re just a little hopeful.” You are aren’t you? “is that so bad.”

Rosie shakes her head when your teary eyes look up at her. “nope. He was the love of your life. Your freaking first one.”

“But it’s time to grow up.”

Even if you did work it out, how the hell would you marry him again. Would you even get as far as to marrying again. You'd hate to get back together only to fail again.

How would you face his parents. And what if they still hate you. How would you go on.

It really is time to grow up.

“Thanks for coming.” You smile.

"No problem.” He pulls out his chair, the sound of it scraping against the floor echoing.

you planned on having a simple conversation in a cafe. which makes it easier for both of you to leave if things get awkward.

“Honestly, I never expected you to reach out.” The words slip out,.

You had planned to ghost him, to just forget everything. But after talking to Rosie, she encouraged you to talk to him. To seek closure instead of running away. You'd be missing the point if you did ghost him.

“Just need to get some stuff off my chest.” You chuckle awkwardly, the air stiffens immediately after.

Jungkook’s eyes widen, his heart racing at the possible implication of your words.

Before you can gather your thoughts, he cuts in, “I just want to apologize for kissing you that night.”

You shake your head, nostalgia and discomfort washing over you. Why does the memory of that moment feel weird now? “You don’t have to. I wanted it too.” you can't help but feel guilty for it. “Um, I just wanted to clear something up about that too.”

“I feel like I told you something I shouldn’t have that night.” His brow furrows in confusion, and you can see the gears turning in his mind. “I won’t lie; I did miss the feeling, but it also felt like a lie.”

He taps his fingers nervously on his thigh.

“What do you mean?” he asks, voice only able to ask questions

“I mean, there’s nothing here.” You gesture between the two of you. “I appreciate your apology, but it doesn’t change much.”

You avoid his gaze, but his eyes remain locked on yours.

“I’m still hurt, honestly.” When your eyes finally meet his, you can barely seem to read them. If he could hold you, you know he would. “And we’d be lying to each other if we said things could be fixed just like that.”

It feels like a death sentence, and you’re the judge. Sentencing him to his fate.

He sighs, not able to form any thoughts. “I understand.” He does, but the understanding comes with a hurt.

“Because at the end of the day, I’d have to meet your parents again, and I’m sure they wouldn’t love me overnight.” Your chuckle is sweet but bitter. “I don’t want to put myself in that position again.”

He inhales sharply, the air thick with regrets. He’s always been prepared to face judgment, but this—this is a different kind. “I’m sorry that they hurt you so much. And that I did too.”

“I know you are.” You want to rush through this, to just get over with it. “I just wanted to clear things up and make sure we’re on the same page.”

Neither of you bothers to order anything; the thought of food feels heavy and unappetizing.

“Yeah, we definitely are.” He laughs, but the sound is sorrowful.

He knew it all along. There’s only so far, the universe can go for him.

It seems Taehyung was wrong; the universe didn’t bring you together to get back together but to part ways on a better note. The hatred and disdain that once was your relationship have only served to hurt you both.

“Let’s end things on a good note this time, Jungkook.” Your voice is soft, almost a whisper.

Meeting you again has him understanding what he once didn't realize, the mistakes he made, and now he seeks to apologize for them. There are so many “I wish” statements he could say, but isn’t about that. Sometimes, it’s simply just too late.

It’s a reality he has to face now.

“Maybe that’s all we needed,” he jokes, but the laughter feels uncomfortable.

You chuckle lightly, “I guess so.” You can feel the tension in your chest begin to ease, the heaviness lifting just a little. His presence, once a source of turmoil, now feels more tolerable, like a bittersweet memory you can finally face.

"I won’t lie; I’ll have to miss you all over again." His smile is simple.

As you slide out of your seat, he stands too, and the world around you fade into the background. It’s only when you reach his car that you find the courage to pull him into a hug. His warm arms wrap around you, and the familiar scent of his cologne pulls you in like a comforting blanket.

"I’ll always love you; you know." His voice is muffled against your coat, and the words hang in the cold air.

"Jungkook, don’t do that to yourself." You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, but he squeezes you tighter, afraid to let go.

Maybe he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. Maybe if he hadn’t followed you up to your apartment that night, if he hadn’t kissed you, if he hadn’t over-apologized—

“Don’t overthink it,” you whisper, trying to soothe his possible thoughts.

“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault, okay?” You try to keep a smile on your face. “Be glad we got to redo this and at least not hate each other anymore.”

“That’s if you don’t hate me.” You flash him a teasing smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

he smiles too.

“I actually do hate you,” he jokes.

“I hate you too."

A/N: it is what it is. PAAAAAIN.

[primreaperstuff]

Trying to figure out what's under the Jhesselbraum crossed out text in the Book of Bill

Dunno if anybody's done this before but I figured I'd give it a shot. This is the original image.

I first went and found the font used for this. I think it's DIN Condensed Bold. This font unfortunately costs money to get onto your computer, but it is included with Adobe Suite software so if you have Photoshop or are silly like me and used Illustrator, you can access it (I know Illustrator isn't great for this stuff but I generally use GIMP and didn't feel like installing Photoshop for this one thing).

And this is the image with the letters I can figure out.

If I got this right, there are a couple of things in here that are huge.

Bill thinks (or at least thought) very highly of Jhess. He describes her as the smartest Henchmaniac. Depending on how you interpret that comment about the eyes, he either let her into the group despite not liking how many eyes she has or has sour grapes about her leaving.

Jhess did a ton of the heavy lifting for the portal project. Bill is often presumed to simply have the multiversal know-how for a lot of the physics and stuff behind the portal, but this implies that Jhess was actually the first one to figure much of this stuff out and Bill went off of what she told him.

I also want to draw your attention to a tiny detail I noticed in the name Bill gives her. It's so small that it might just be me just seeing a pattern where none exists, but I thought it worth mentioning anyway.

My first thought was, obviously, that the name given was "JESS." The first two letters are clearly J and E and the character is called Jheselbraum so that would track. But then I noticed this tiny squarish region that does not line up with how the red pen's stroke normally tapers off and is slightly whiter than the pen. It is exactly where another letter would be... and it does not line up with DIN's capital S! The capital letters in DIN that it lines up with are B, D, E, F, H, I, L, M, N, P, R, and T. The name looks like it cannot exceed 5 characters given the position of the pen stroke.

In terms of plausible names in there, these are the options:

Jeb

Jed/Jedi

Jet/Jett/Jete

Jeff

Jerry

Jerk (lol)

Jelly

Jem

Jen/Jenn

The majority of the plausible names, as you can tell, are either masculine or ungendered. Which makes me wonder-- is Jheselbraum the Unswerving trans??

Because that implies a lot. For one, I have to question why Bill is deadnaming her in that case. Is it to be hurtful or did he just legitimately never figure it out? She went on the run from him so it's likely she never updated him on her live-name. (And I mean, let's face it, "Jheselbraum" is not that far off from some of the live-names trans people choose for themselves. You guys are reviving antiquated names one transition at a time. \pos)

He also speaks rather admiringly of her, which would be odd if he was trying to insult her with her deadname, so I think it's really highlighting how little Bill actually knows-- and might underlie the real reason he crossed it out. He literally just found out she transitioned and he doesn't even know her live-name. Really undermines the whole "unlimited being with knowledge and answers" thing he claims about himself.

It would also explain what drew her to Bill in the first place. Bill already believes in 14 million genders, and he was offering to smash all the norms and rules. What have norms and rules ever done for the trans community? Seldom anything good is my impression.

Hell, maybe she wound up doing her own sex change surgery, because nobody else would do it for her, and that's why she has the skills to install a metal plate in Ford's head. (Pure speculation of course)

Or maybe I'm just overthinking a print error or false pattern or something! Who knows?

Anyway, I thought this was interesting enough to share. Not important my tailbone lol.

[zivazivc]

So in the second movie we see poppy and branch get, basically drugged by smooth jazz. Do you think different kinds of music can be like drugs to trolls who aren't off that genre? I'm just thinking about floyd & his ex band mates just getting high after putting on a funky record

I can't explain to you how much i love this ask, Sapphire! Like it made me obsessed sljhfdjd I was focusing so much on that ringpop pacifier from the third movie and thinking of other troll drugs I could come up with (like sour worms lol) that I completely forgot about smooth jazz!!

Eventually Floyd got up like in a trance, started dancing hippie-style, tripped over his own feet, and never got up

Floyd is still 14 here and they are all morons. Also I think Floyd would in general be much more affected by this genre because he doesn't have any Rock Troll blood like the rest of them. Slowly they will learn through morally dubious trial and error... Pray for them.

the records Flea borrowed:

[bunni-v1]

sunday x m reader who wont shut up while hes working so he makes reader cockwarm him to shut him up

Cockwarming With Sunday

🍓Dom Sunday makes my skin crawl. Anyway, I went for a softer take than what you wanted, sorry lol. Even when Sunday tops I can't see him as all that mean, at least, not in the way this was worded lol. Anyway, I'm very well Sunday's biggest hater (I love him more than life itself), so I hope you enjoy this. I want him dead.

Tw: NSFW; Implied power dynamics; Mean(?) Sunday; Grammar Errors; ts kinda ass

Info: Dom!Sunday x M!Reader (it's hard to tell lol); Cockwarming; pre ae sunday; Nsfw

Word Count: 1.5k

Sunday was always considered to be a patient man, especially with those he considered important to him. He had put up with plenty of Robin's silly plans and humored her with delight -- he loved her after all, and any plan she had wasn't truly all that silly so long as it came from her. He even enjoyed her endless conversations when he was meant to be finishing up paperwork. His time with her was sparse, he could afford extra time away from his duties for her. She never kept him for long anyway, understanding his position better than anyone else.

You, however, did not have the excuse of being his darling sister. You spent a significant amount of time with him, both in and out of work, and he had all the time in the world to spend with you. Which meant you knew better than most others how much he needed to fill out this report today. Yet... you kept running those stupidly pretty lips of yours.

He wasn't even sure what you were talking about, he'd tuned you out about ten minutes into your talking. Nearly an hour had passed, and you were still going on and on about something or another -- he catches that it's about an up-and-coming artist you'd seen, not that he cares for any musician that isn't his sister. It wouldn't be so bad if you were just talking, he'd mastered the technique of ignoring things that seemed to get under his skin, but you needed assurance that he was listening.

He would occasionally have to pause and answer questions without much context, or hum in acknowledgement of your words. Your incessant rambling is normally incredibly endearing to him, but with the deadline looming over his head, and the ache stinging between his brows it was enough to make it vexing.

He lets out a sigh, hands pressing the pen to the desk just a bit too harshly. You silence yourself, flinching back a little in surprise. He nearly coos, he hadn't meant to scare you, but you were very cute when frightened. (Perhaps he shouldn't be thinking such things...)

"My love," He hums, meeting your gaze with a calm smile, "you know I love having you around, don't you?"

You nod, nervousness shining in your eyes, giving you away despite the brave front you put on. You were always too easy for him to read, a bit concerning considering the enemies he has, but he'd prefer you pliant than hardened -- at least, in that way.

He gestures to the papers on his desk, "You also know how important it is that I get this done today, yes?"

"Of course," You answer immediately, and he can see the realization of why he was scolding you across your face. So very cute. "Was I talking too much?"

He hums an affectionate smile on his face, and gestures for you to come to his side. You do so with no arguments, as expected. He turns in his chair, grabbing you by your hips to situate you between his legs. You flush a bit at the contact, predictable as always, but he chooses not to comment on it.

"I need to get this done, angel," He asserts again, and you frown shamefully.

"Would you like me to leave?" You offer, but the idea sours something in his chest.

He shakes his head adamantly, "Of course not. I love having you here, but you'll have to behave for me."

There is a spark behind your eyes at his words that makes him ache a bit, his member coming to life much too fast for his liking. The effect seems to be mutual, as far as he can tell from his position near your crotch. His placid smile morphs into a slight smirk, and his eyes meet yours again, "You can behave for me, can't you?"

You nod adamantly, "Of course, s-sir." The title is stuttered, somehow unsure despite your knowing very well what he wanted from you now. It was so adorable how concerned you were with overstepping with him. You truly could do no wrong in his eyes, even when you were getting in the way of his work.

"Then," he pushes you to step back, leaning back in his chair, "Take your pants and underwear off for me. Quickly, I'd like to get this done as soon as possible."

You nod again, doing as he says like a well-trained pet, pretty eyes looking to him for approval as you shove the clothes to the side. He rewards you with a smile, leaning forward to run a finger along the bottom of your hard cock. You hiss at the sensation, drawing a chuckle from his chest.

He eases himself out of his pants as he tugs on your sensitive member a few times, enjoying the little whimpers you give him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach. He leans back again as it does, telling you what to do with his eyes alone. You follow along like in a trance -- he'd almost believed you were under the influence Harmony, if it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t using it in the moment.

You hiss lowly as he slides into you. Going raw must've been painful for you, but it felt heavenly for him. Your ass squeezed him so well like it was meant to hold him deep within. He smiles reassuringly at you as you finally sit fully on his lap, taking your chin in his hand to settle a kiss to your lips.

"Very good," He compliments.

You bite your lip, averting your gaze, "Thank you, sir."

He tuts at you, drawing your gaze back just as quickly as it left, "You can sit still and wait like a good boy, can't you? If you can't well..."

"Of course I can!" You respond with a desperation that surprises both of you, quickly adding, "Sir."

"Good, good," he hums, pressing a warm hand against the back of your neck. Your chin rests against his shoulder on instinct, getting comfortable against him. Once he's satisfied with you behaving, he leans forward and starts back to working on the document you'd been distracting him from.

The scratching of his pen is one of the only things keeping you grounded in reality. The stretch of his thick cock in your ass is almost too much for your brain to handle. You shouldn't have been talking so much, honestly, this is no one's fault but your own. Still, the torture of not being allowed to move for fear of worse punishment is enough to make you want to cry.

You sit there pretty on his dick like a good boy, though. Always so obedient for him, if only he didn't have to tell you to behave. No one is perfect, so this was a sacrifice Sunday had to make to keep things as he liked.

His fingers climb up your spine, tingling across your body right to your achingly hard cock. You almost hear Sunday chuckle when it twitches between the two of you, but it's so quiet you believe you might've made it up in your fucked out brain. You wiggle your hips in an attempt to get some friction, but all Sunday has to do is place his hand on it and you cease all movements.

Sunday seems, on the outside, entirely unaffected by everything. For the most part, he really is. He's blasting through his work faster than before, but that was because he couldn't wait much longer to bend you over the papers and reward you for good behavior. Each squeeze around him has him swallowing down groans, determined to not give into your temptations -- no matter how wonderful that sounded.

When he signs the last dotted line and closes the stack of papers back to the front page he lets out a sigh that resembles more of a moan than anything as you clench anticipatorily around him yet again. His pen is set on the desk with a little 'click', and he finally looks at you after agonizing minutes of your squirming. Lust has clouded over his gaze, and he looks positively angelic nearly lost to his own sin.

You are no better, pleading with your eyes for him to fuck you like the sweet thing you were. Tears pricked at the corners of your lashes, a picture of absolute beauty. He smiles at you, wiping them away from your cheeks as they spill over.

"You were very good, my sweet angel," He hums, moving his hands to your hips, "you deserve a reward for behaving, don't you?"

You nod adamantly, your heart picking up in excitement. He raises an eyebrow expectantly at you, and you know what you're meant to do next without the need for words. Standing from his lap, hissing as he leaves your tight hole, and bending over his desk like the good pet you were.

"Very good..." He hums, and your spine tingles in excitement as you hear his pants and belt hit the floor around his feet.

[tojisun]

i'm going to move on. whatever it takes, i will forget.

this was something that you began to carry around, the weight of the words a burden to your shoulders. you feel weak. you feel lethargic. floating. like a body drowning in stagnant waters.

there is no one else that could pull you up, you know that. god, you know that, but you continue to fall. splintering. breaking.

a washed up star, devouring everything in its wake as it sputters in its futile attempts to live—is this not you?

is this not the way in which simon left you? pawing at the flesh of your body, nails digging in as you poke and scratch, hoping to gouge out the pulsing organ because maybe, just maybe, if you had no heart then you would not feel this way anymore.

because he left you like this: a broken person, unable to live. to breathe. food no longer tastes the same, your bedroom smells sour—it still smells like his old perfume—and no amount of opened windows can make the scent waft away. you can barely drink your water, you can barely stand underneath the shower.

he left you like this: a ghost of what once was, unable to let go of the memories. you hear the rumble of his voice even when you smother yourself with your sheets, you feel the ticklish touch of his fingers running down the planes of your spine when you lay on your side. the spring air feels too cold. the spring sun feels too hot.

you are a miasmic reaction. a person with no purpose. a museum of all of your love, no matter the end.

simon still leaves you messages:

"your friends say they haven't seen you for a while now, love. i hope you're doing just alright."

"i'm sorry. i always will be. please, take care sweetheart."

you think he is the devil whom old folks in your hometown used to talk about; the king of evil who comes in a beautiful visage, before sliding in your dreams to devour you from the inside-out. the malevolence who sucks the life out from every pore so that he may leave you stranded on your bed, in your house, on your own skin.

because if simon isn't the devil, then why does he torment you this way?

he calls you beautiful names like they don't mean anything to him; it makes you question if they even meant something to him then, before the breakup.

maybe they didn't. that hurts.

maybe they did—this hurts more. because why would he continue to call you these? why would he continue to remind you of what once was?

your fingers twitch, poised for a reply. poised for anything—a plea, a question.

you send him neither.

instead, you delete his contact and shut your phone off. you throw it underneath your bed before sliding back under your sheets, the backs of your eyes prickling as tears build. pooling. then, falling.

(a weeping star—)

your regret peaks the next day as you clamber to your bruised knees, stretching your gaunt body to pluck your phone out of the darkness. you turn it on and add him back to your message list, frantic, heart in your throat, only to stop short at the reality of what you've done.

his contact is a blank slate now, just as empty as you are.

the words that you used to cherish, the ones where he called you his beloved and his angel and his favourite person ever, are gone. the proof that he loved you just as much has all been deleted, all because of your error.

you sob again, anguish anew. bile rises from the back of your throat and you stumble to your feet as you rush to your bathroom, your body knocking against the door before tumbling onto the floor. you heave.

what a mess you've become, still unable to reconcile the fact that your lover is gone now.

lover—the holder of all of your love.

simon.

simonsimonsimon.

he's left you, truly.

this is it, forever.

how cruel, you think, weeping, your hands trembling as you wipe at the corners of your mouth. how could he leave me this way?

the grief bloats, and you cry.

you cry because it is all that you can do. all that you are left to do.

("why're you cryin'?" simon asked, his thumb gentle as it swiped at the skin just underneath your eyes.

"i've missed you," you replied wetly, voice all nasally from your tears.

he huffed a fond laugh, the puffs of his breath hitting the bridge of your nose. he turned to cup your cheek instead, his other arm falling to wrap around your waist.

"y'know i'll never leave you, yeah?" his eyes were crinkled in his smile. "i've got so much love f'r you, petal. leaving you isn't even something that i can see happening."

you sniffled, nodding, your lips wobbling as new bouts of tears fell. simon smiled before he pulled you to his lap, gentle and careful. you tucked your face on the crook of his neck, finding comfort in his touch.)

you peel your eyes open, cataloguing the phantom pain shooting from the small of your back to your hip. you shift, careful as you rouse from the cold floor of your bathroom.

you think you dreamt of something—a memory, perhaps—but you can't quite recall what it was.

the sharp throb in your heart clues you in on what it might have been, but you're too afraid to jog your memory because you know you wouldn't be able to handle thinking about simon again. it is going to be a long day, after all.

a long, empty day.

[cheriladycl01]

I cant do this anymore - George Russell x Wolff! Reader P3

Plot: You are the daughter of Toto Wolff team principle of Mercedes-AMG Petronas, you've worked your whole life to become an engineer. However, your dad has other ideas for you and doesn't want you to become a race engineer. You start to confide more in the Red Bull Racing Team Principle to help you get an engineering job, and see him as your present father figure.

"You ready for our first Grand Prix together Max?" you ask, testing with Max had gone really well and Christian was happy with the dynamic the both of you had. Max as gentle and kind as he was, he was very ambitious and that ambition when it didn't prevail often turned into anger.

Christian saw, in FP1 and FP2 when he didn't think he was performing that well, you just completely calm Max down and talk him through each component of what he needed to improve. He listened to her on took on board when to conserve his tires, when do take turns wider or more sharply etc. And testing couldn't have gone better for Red Bull.

"You know it, lead me to Victory Y/N" he grinned before hopping into the car. You walk over to your station making sure all of the data on the car is looking as good as it did yesterday in qualifying and to check for any errors that could mess Max up in his first few laps. Nothing stuck out, and you could tell that both the car and Max would perform well today.

"Is Y/N here i need to talk to her before the race" you heard through your headphones, you turn seeing George in his racing suit and helmet in hand talking to some of the mechanics.

"Mate, you are a driver. You should be getting in your car for radio check. You cant be in the Red Bull area okay?" he advises, making George look around quickly before huffing and walking away in dissatisfaction.

"Max, Radio Check can you hear me" you ask and get a response immediately.

"Yes, loud and clear! Today will be good!" he exclaims.

And how true he was, you guided him into P1, it was an amazing start to you helping Max win the Championship, Mexico had been an amazing drive for him. He shared a podium with Lewis and Charles. There were a few cameras that caught you and Lewis looking at each other and you giving him a thumbs up.

Media teams were about to have a field day.

"You are amazing Y/N! You know the car so well I bet YOU could be the driver! Those strategies were insane" Max complimented you as he'd taken his helmet off and pulled you into an insanely sweaty hug of thanks for a great first race.

"Oh god, I'm definitely not driver material! Don't tell anyone, but I don't actually have my drivers license" you cringe giggling at him, it was something you'd never needed. Your mum or dad normally drove you around before uni, and once you were there everything was within walking distance. It had just felt pointless.

"No way, you've got to be lying to me" Max laughs, wondering how you'd survived so long without something like that.

"Honestly George or Lewis used to drive me around a lot, when i had to go to the Mercedes HQ back home he'd take me if my parents couldn't! You say a light smile on your face before it turned sour thinking of the mousy brown haired man that had completely lost any trust you had placed in him.

"Lets not think about them. Lets talk about you coming with me, Christian, Geri, Kelly, Sergio, Hugh and Carola?" he asks and a massive grin comes onto your face.

"I'm invited to the Horner dinner, huh? That sounds kinda important and fancy. I might just have to decline" you joke making Max roll his eyes.

"No, you are joining us and are having fun and getting your mind off Thing one and Thing two" he jokes, you tried to keep a serious face but you really couldn't.

"Anyway, considering the Princess cant drive do you want me to take you back to the hotel?" he asks smiling.

"If that's okay with you!" you smile happily, he nods slinging an arm around your shoulder guiding you to the car.

"So when do I finally get to meet P!" you exclaim, even though you'd only been working with Max for a week, you'd gotten to know him very well. You had to considering he had to trust listening to you while he was driving round a track a 200 miles an hour.

"Hmmmm I think Kelly said she'd be bringing her to the race next week. It's Brazil so its an important one for her!" he admits. The conversation flew between you and Max, it was strange really it felt like you'd been friends with him for ages. You had to grovel when it came to any of the Mercedes Drivers in the past, so this easiness to making friends felt good.

That was one thing you'd struggled with. You had a love for F1 straight away considering who you parents were and where you were constantly travelling from race to race until you got to university age. So you didn't actually have many friends who stuck around.

You both eventually ended up at the hotel, you waved at Kelly who was waiting for the both of you and she pulled you into a big hug as she walked over to you.

"You both did amazing today! So proud of you! Y/N, did Max end up inviting you to dinner tonight!" she exclaims, wanting you to be there as well.

"Yes, I'll be there" you smile and say your goodbye's before dashing into your room to get ready for the dinner.

You struggled on what to wear and ended up calling Max to get Kelly to help you on what the dinner vibe was for tonight. You ended up showing her half the stuff you'd brought to Mexico with you and ended up picking one of your nicer dresses from Versace.

You took some pictures before a knock was heard at your door that had you confused as you were meeting up with Kelly and Max outside theirs in 30 minutes.

You opened the door, and looked up to see who had come to the door.

"Omg" you both said at the same time, you tried to slam the door shit. George wouldn't ruin your night, he didn't deserve too.

However, a foot and arm in the door and his general athletic body that made him stronger than you prevented all of that. He practically barged his way in.

You both stood there in awkward silence. George couldn't get over how beautiful you looked. I mean, you were always beautiful to him. But tonight in the black dress that he swore Donatella had personalized just for you, and the way your hair fell around you face in an effortless fashion. He couldn't look away from you.

"If you've come here to accuse me some more, then just leave. I'm about to have a really good night with friends, people who actually care for me and want me to succeed and if I'm being honest I do not need your negativity" you say, turning around to check yourself in the mirror.

"You look gorgeous tonight. So i wont do this tonight, but please meet me in between the Mercedes and Williams garage next week in Brazil. We need to talk. We've been friends for years and I don't want my stupidity to come between us" he says, stepping towards you going to reach out his hand. You step back, it took a lot especially with this ocean blue puppy eyes looking at you with that sad expression that would make anyone fold.

"Please, After Qually, I'm only asking for five minutes Y/N please" he begs trying to catch your eyes but you were doing your best not to look at them too often, knowing you would probably cave.

"I'll think about it. If I'm there we can talk, if not then its up to you if our friendship is really worth waiting for" you admit, walking to the door and opening it up for him as a sign that he should leave.

"I've waited long enough" he mumbles before walking out the door himself and leaving towards the lift that was down the corridor from your room.

The night had gone so well, you were really beginning to feel comfortable around those in Red Bull. The people at the table were being so kind to you as the newbie, Christian pouring you the water, recommending you dishes he liked whilst arguing with the actual Mexican in the room who knew the cuisine of the restaurant like the back of his hand, to offering you the salt and proceeding to do it for you had your heart melting.

It was stupid, really. You shouldn't be this emotional over an older man doing small silly little tasks that you could tackle alone but just was nice to have the offered help. Help that you hadn't received in recent years.

"I really want to thank you all for tonight, its been really nice to hang out with you. And i cant wait for a double podium in Brazil next week!" you exclaim clinking you glass with everyone around the table.

However, George still managed to creep into your mind thanks to his earlier disturbance.

Would he actually apologise?

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @urdad-hot

Hey guys, so i've noticed some people in the taglist aren't getting tagged, I'm not sure if this is username changes or what... but i will start to take of one that don't link to an actual page, so if you see your account name and its not working please feel free to message me, or comment her or on my masterlist of taglist so i can see your knew username!

[ghosttoastx]

*shaking you gently please give my teeny tiny ink crumbs*

How did Error and Ink meet? Does he have a nickname for him? Is anyone allowed to babysit and does ink have a favourite? Does ink have any abilities besides being the cutest ever? Is there a little Broomie and Buggy? (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

Ask and you shall receive :3 don't mind my writing plssss I just woke up (┬┬﹏┬┬)

How They Met:

I imagine that Error finding Ink was by chance. For one reason or another, Error finds himself smackdab in the middle of a fight between Nightmare and the gang, and the Star's (since Ink isn't there, the Stars would only consists of Dream, Blue, Core Frisk, and Possibly Red). I image the whole fight shenanigan would take place in Outertale, which would be why Error was there in the first place and why he was caught off guard.

Anyways! Error gets dragged into the fight (he's very pissy about this) and in a ditch effort to get away (he was not fleeing. definitely. he would never heheh) from the conflict, he quickly throws himself through a portal, not really thinking about where exactly he wanted to go, just that he wanted some stars-damn peace and quite.

And Peace and Quite he shall receive. Kinda.

Error finds himself in a vast white expanse, taking a moment to register that this was not his Anti-Void. After some frustration, he'd begrudging sate his curiosity about the strange AU he'd found himself in and look around. Not that there's really much to see.

After examining the strangely apathetic sketches that were the residents of the world, Error would become bored or disappointed in his lack of findings. Feeling even more sour about this whole ordeal from before. There's nothing even here worth while for him to Destroy!! What a fucking rip off!!

turning tail to leave, Error goes to open a portal, though he stops and screeches the most unholy of screeches when something snags one of the ends of his scarf.

he whirls around, tugging the end of his scarf away from his pursuer, ready to rip whatever abomination decided to mess with him to shreds. He's taken off guard (again today) when the tiny thing that had decided to grab him came up with the scarf. He shakes the garment, trying to dislodge it, to no avail as (what appears to be) a small skeleton monster giggles joyously.

Error stops jostling his scarf (and in turn the tiny skeleton monster) with a frustrated huff. without warning the small monster grabs hold of Error's arm, causing him to shriek in fury and panicked anticipation.

...

But nothing happened. No sudden bursts of glitches, no buffering no nothing. Error stood there, dumbfounded as the skeleton clung happily to him, completely unaware of Error's internal conflict.

After a moment, Error haphazardly (albeit hesitantly) grabbed the wretched abomination, holding him at arms length.

He stands there in the whiteness, staring intensely at the small skeleton. Whatever else this anomaly might be aside, the thing was definitely a child. Aging was weird in the Multiverse but Error would have to guess that the kid was maybe two?? Three years old?????

Error continues to stare at the kid for a moment, debating with himself, before sighing a heavy 'fuck this shit' and plops the kid back on the ground (was it even ground?) turns and walks away into a portal.

...

. . .

. . .

It took all of 30 seconds for Error to reappear, scoop up the kid, and reenter a portal to the Anti-Void.

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

Okay. That ramble ended up becoming more of a drabble heheh oopsies. I might write a proper drabble later to better execute the idea. Preferably not this early in the morning next time lmao

Anyways!!! Moving On!!!

Nicknames:

I don't really think Error himself would give Ink any nicknames. At least not any endearing ones. But I feel like some of the others might have nicknames for him. And by nicknames I'm referring to things like 'kid', 'kiddo', 'bud', etc. etc.

I feel like Ink himself would give nicknames to the others as well. but like. he'd be bad at it. I feel like he'd just do that thing where you add a 'y' at the end of someone's name. Like 'Blue' would be 'Bluey' or something. 'Dream' 'Dreamy'. You get the idea.

Nightmare have and 'y' nickname would b interesting I feel tho. 'Nightmare' would be 'Nighty'. which could lead to Nightmare being reminded of himself and Dream when they were younger or something which could be reallyyyy interesting to explore heheh. But!! that'll have to be for another time >:3!!!

Babysitting:

Error's a busy guy, destroying AUs and stuff. As much as he'd hate it, He'd definitely need a babysitter for Ink while he was out. Not only to keep an eye on him, but to also keep him company.

Ink wouldn't like being left in the Anti-Void alone for long periods of time. Despite the Anti-Void and Ink's abandoned AU not exactly having the same feel as one another. The Anti-Void is still a vast expanse of whitespace.

Optimally, out of all of them, Error prefers to leave Ink with the Stars more often than not. More Specifically Blue, but Dream and Core Frisk (sometimes Red too) kinda just come as a package deal.

Error's not to keen on leaving Ink with Nightmare and his gang to frequently. Mostly because their group is much more...unpredictable. I suppose. (Error doesn't appreciate their efforts at encouraging Ink to play 'pranks' on him.)

Ink loves all of them. he doesn't really mind who's watching him for the day. Though out of everyone, I feel like Ink would really Enjoy having Blue watch over him.

But I also feel like Ink would really like hanging out with Nightmare. Not necessarily because Nightmare is a good babysitter, but more so because Nightmare is the one to avoid him the most. Kids are curious, and Ink would be super duper curious about cool, spooky, mysterious Nightmare. So he'd just kinda hang around him.

Nightmare has a lot of conflicting feelings about this.

Ink’s Abilities:

As of right now, no one can really figure out what's up with Inks magic. it's weird and goopy and not like any magic any of them have seen before.

No ones really sure what to do with this.

Broomie & Buggy:

At this point in time, neither Broomie nor Buggy are a thing quite yet

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: big smut - oral (fem receiving), rough sex, PinV, angst, Dean being cute

Chapter Word Count: 3158

—-MDNI—-

A/N: ahhhh so back to the normal shenanigans. Nil this chapter is loosely inspired by the song ‘Fuck Away The Pain’ by Divide the Day. Also I’m making some changes to how I link in my chapters, because I have quite a few now and it takes fucking ages. Also it’s 1:30AM and I’m tired so I’ve proof read as best as I can, let me know if you see any errors.

——————————————————————

New readers start here: Prologue

Previous: Chapter 11

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 12

At some point during the quiet ride home I had fallen asleep, because when I woke up I was in my bed atop the covers, still fully dressed. Not knowing what hour it was I rummaged around for my phone, finding it placed carefully next to my books on my bedside table. The brightness from the screen made me wince, my sensitive eyes finally adjusting after a few moments to read 4:17AM. I couldn’t stop the groan from slipping out and I flopped back onto my pillow. I lay there, listening to the humming vents in the bunker, taking in the deafening silence as I took long, slow breaths. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Daniel. Just not the Daniel I knew. Not the boy who lived in band t-shirts and scruffy jeans, but the strange man who wore a three piece suit and sprouted fangs from his jaw. I didn't know that person, and I'm glad I never would. My mind then drifted to Dean; seeing his confused face and shocked expression towards the revelation that I KNEW the vampire about to be killed. My face scrunched like I'd tasted something sour at the thought. I couldn't place my finger on it, but the whole situation felt wrong - uncomfortable. Like I'd been unfaithful even though I'm technically not tied to anyone. It felt like I'd been unfaithful to Dean, and we all knew the last thing he wanted was commitment. Is that what I wanted? Dean? Something more than just carnal desire? A relationship? Security? Someone to call mine? My head felt like it was starting to spin as I spiralled down a rabbit hole I had no intention of venturing down. I shook the intrusive thoughts from my head, deciding that it was the very last thing I needed to be thinking about right now. Sitting up slowly I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, my socked-feet gently connecting with the floor as I quietly left my room, heading down towards the kitchen. The grumbling of my stomach reminding me that I've not eaten for about twelve hours.

My arrival to the kitchen turned heads. More heads than I anticipated being there. In all honesty, I thought everyone would have been in bed at this hour. Apparently not. Of course there was Sam and Dean, Charlie, and that strange angel - what was his name? Castiel? But there was also a woman who I’d never seen before. She had short dark hair and a kind face, but there was something sad and sorrowful about her smile. The five pairs of eyes scorched my skin and I stopped in my tracks, taking a tentative step backwards. The only thing stopping me from turning tail and running out of there was the soothing voice calling my name that somehow instantly calmed my nerves. It was like molasses; sweet and deep and as intoxicating as aged liquor. Before I even had a chance to change my mind about sticking around, Dean had swallowed the distance between us and enveloped me in a crushing embrace. A strange instinct took over and I buried my makeup-smeared face into his chest, feeling the devastatingly familiar burn of hot tears start to well up and spill over.

“Dean-” my voice was small and hoarse as I squeaked out his name, his arms tightening around me reflexively.

“It's ok sweetheart, you don't have to say anything.

I've got you.”

*

He'd walked me slowly back to my room, like I was something so fragile and the smallest knock would cause me to shatter. In all honesty it wouldn't be an incorrect statement - It felt like the softer Dean was with me the more delicate I became. My demeanour had the density of a feather and the brittleness of tempered glass; one wrong move and I'd burst into hundreds of little pieces that would have to be glued back together.

The door clicked shut behind us and he guided me to sit on the bed. I crawled into the middle and sat with my legs crossed, uncaring of the fact my micro skirt did little to cover what dignity I had left. The thin white petticoat tickled my thighs as Dean shuffled to sit in front of me, his large hands now resting face up in my lap, beckoning my small fingers to become entwined in his. We sat knee-to-knee, Dean's eyes tracking every movement I made - every breath, every blink, every nervous bite of my lip. He took a deep inhale and a slow exhale, like he was using those seconds to decide on what to say. His rough thumbs caressed my knuckles.

“Sweetheart; it's ok to cry.”

That softness radiating from him pulled a ragged sob from my chest, my bottom lip quivering as I made the bad decision to make eye contact with him. The tears started to stream again.

“D-Daniel- he- I s-saw him- he was hit b-by a f-fucking e-eighteen wheeler, D-Dean. H-he was on his motorbike and h-e was thrown a-bout ninety feet b-before h-he hit the g-ground. I went t-to get a FUCKING s-snack and t-the moment I-I came back o-outside he was- he was-”

Before I could carry on he had pulled me into another crushing embrace, my legs slipping over his as he pulled me to sit in his lap. Rough denim rubbed on my inner thighs as his arms tightened around me, my arms moving on their own to loop around his neck.

“We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to.”

I sniffled.

“I just want to f-forget about him. I-I healed f-from this already. I don't w-want to h-have to do that a-again, Dean. I can’t. That person- th-that vamp- he wasn’t him. Please- I just- I just want to forget.”

I pulled back to look at him. I saw this way his eyes darted to my lips and I knew he tried to fight it, I knew he’d scold himself internally for thinking such thoughts in a moment like this. His evergreen gaze flitted across my face before my own eyes landed on his mouth. I saw the way his lips were parted. I saw how his pupils dilated and how his fingers tightened on the small amount of fabric at my hips. How he swallowed, almost nervously, when I moved my own fingers to tug on his hair - to glide over his scalp. I couldn't help but allow myself to sit heavier in his lap.

“(Y/n), sweetheart. We shouldn’t- I shouldn't - I don't want to take advantage of you. Not like this,” his voice was an unusual mixture of pained self-restraint and compassionate sympathy.

“Dean,” my own voice came out sterner than I intended and I felt him flinch beneath my fingertips. “I want to forget. Make me forget.”

It was like a spark had hit a lake of gasoline; one small thing had ignited us, and my face was still wet with tears when Dean threw me down onto the mattress, my head at the foot of the bed. Thick, slightly trembling fingers glided up my thighs and tugged down my underwear, throwing it into the depths of my room. Rough palms suddenly gripped the back of my thighs and pushed up, my knees almost touching my ears whilst he shuffled slightly, like he was getting comfortable. Right when I opened my mouth to ask him what he was doing, I felt it: A lick. A warm wetness that wasn’t my own. Precision and practice had made this appendage a dear friend of the night, which I realised when I felt my brows scrunch together shortly followed by a breathy moan.

“Fuck-”

His tongue went around and around and around, occasionally grazing over my clit but generally taking great care to avoid it; to pump up the agonising sensitivity and make me squirm. I felt his lips move against me, his words fanning hot breaths over my most intimate area as his voice rumbled in his chest.

“Fuck, (Y/n) you're delicious.”

Dipping back down and tongue back at work, he continued his actions, starting slowly - oh so slowly - before speeding up, and up and up until he stopped. He stopped making little circles around my bundle of nerves, and before I could even whine about it he'd pressed the entirety of his tongue against my opening. I didn't think much of the hand releasing my thigh and dropping it on his shoulder until the pad of his thumb pressed on my buzzer, sending a singular shockwave through me whilst he continued to taste me. His thumb swirled again and again whilst his tongue carefully dipped in and out, seeming to know exactly where to press, when to do it and the amount of pressure needed. It had only been a few minutes but I already felt like a melting mess, my body starting to writhe as the pleasure started to build in the depths of my stomach. I felt like I was losing control of my thighs as Dean's fingers dug into the soft flesh of the one he was holding up, the side of his head leaning into the other one, stubble scratching at the soft skin on the inside of my thigh as his jaw flexed with every movement of his tongue. If he wasn't holding onto me like he was, I felt like I could crush him. Another moan passed through my lips when he sped up a little more, my fingers racing to tangle with his hair, pulling a satisfied noise from him.

“Dean- please- if you keep going like this I'm g’nna come-”

He ceased his actions and pushed up, leaning forwards so he was towering above me with my arousal practically dripping from his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and there was an almost primal glint in his eye.

“Do you wanna come?”

The sound of his voice could have snapped that coil inside me there and then. Instead I groaned quietly, watching the way he slowly wrapped his fingers around my calf that rested on his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to my inner thigh just above my knee. His dark eyes never left mine.

“I wanna come s’bad, but…” I paused and felt my face heat up.

“But…?”

“But I want to feel you inside me when I do.”

His eyes looked like they were about to roll into the back of his head before he caught himself and stared back down at me, chewing on his bottom lip slightly.

“Fuck sweetheart, those are dangerous words.”

“You're a dangerous man…”

There were a few moments of silence, racing heartbeats almost audible from the other side of the room. I hooked my other leg over his shoulder and linked my ankles behind his back, pulling him further down towards me.

“Dean- please. I need you. I need you to fuck me.”

I'd barely finished my sentence when his mouth pressed to mine, hot and panting. I could taste the bite of the whiskey he'd drunk at the club, the richness of it still on his tongue after all these hours - he must've had more when we got back to the bunker. I stretched my hands down and fumbled with the buckle on his belt, fingers frantically trying to undo everything just so I could feel him - touch him. Anything to focus on him and him alone.

“Do you still want to forget, darlin’?”

I nodded.

“And you’re sure you’re ok with this? I don’t want you to reg-“

“I won’t, I promise. I just need you to make my mind go blank; I need the… pain to go away.”

He pulled his T-shirt off in one swift movement before lowering himself to mere centimetres above me, our lips practically touching.

“Then use me however you need to.”

His words were electric. I didn’t give him a chance to pull away, my hands cupping the sides of his face and dragging his mouth down to mine in a frenzied kiss. I was starting to become familiar with how he kissed me - with how he moved his mouth; how he tasted. I was starting to get used to him. You could almost say that I was starting to crave him. With his intoxicating scent and how he tasted when we practically devoured each other. He was becoming my lifeline, somehow, and that thought alone made my heart race.

I thrust my hands down between us to finish what I started before with unbuckling his belt and jeans, eventually dipping a hand into his underwear and feeling him hot, hard, and heavy in my palm. He made a small noise in the back of his throat, unwilling to break away from my lips. I only pushed his clothing as far as I needed to before pulling him out, wiping my thumb over his tip to gather as much precum as I could before smearing it up and down his length in gentle strokes. I started to play him at his own game by starting tantalisingly slow, speeding up over time before he was grasping at my wrist and halting my actions.

“Please-” he almost begged, pulling away from me slightly, “please don’t make me come yet.”

“Then fuck me and we can come together.”

He didn’t waste another second as he lined himself up to my entrance and pushed in, getting lost in my comforting warmth as he groaned into the crook of my neck. I gasped at the stretch, a high-note moan slipping out as he barely waited two seconds before rolling his hips back and forth. Aside from heavy breathing and uncontrolled moans, the only other thing to be heard was the wetness between our bodies and the unmistakable sound of skin-on-skin.

“I wasn’t going to say anything because the timing was never right, but holy fuck (Y/n), your outfit is killing me,” he somehow managed to form a sentence between the panting, the almost crude compliment bringing a blissed out smile to my lips, my mind incapable of forming a coherrant reply.

My ankles unlocked from around his back as his thrusting became more erratic and my legs dropped from his shoulders. Dean took this as a cue to change positions as he grasped my ass and lifted it off the mattress, pulling my body on and off his cock over and over and over again, like I was his own personal toy to use. And the whore that lived deep in my soul loved every second of it. My eyes focused on Deans face, noting how his jaw clenched as his eyes constantly moved up and down my body - taking in every curve of soft skin and ruffle of my outfit. The occasional stutter of his hips was the tell that he was nearing his end, so I traced my hands up my body and pulled the front of my top down, letting my tits bounce free. I pinched and twisted my nipples between my fingers, biting my bottom lip as I felt my sex flutter at the extra stimulation. If Dean wasn’t salivating before, he certainly was now. Keeping one hand on my breast I moved the other one down. Down over the softness of my stomach and to the soaking wetness between my legs, my fingers pressing soft circles around my clit and making me clench even harder around Dean. I swirled and swirled whilst still playing with my nipples, bringing that ever-nearing storm closer to home. I know Dean could feel it too, because his grip on my ass was slipping and he didn’t seem to care; gripping me so tight I was certain I’d see bruises in the afternoon. Letting go of my tit I brought my other hand between us, feeling where Dean and I joined together; feeling how intimate it felt. I could feeling myself tipping over the edge as the noises tumbling from my lips kept coming, urging Dean to somehow fuck me harder and deeper than he already was.

“Sh-shit sweetheart, if you keep making noises like that I won’t be able to go on any longer.”

“Fuck - Dean please- please-”

It was when his eyes met mine, those mossy-green irises clouded with lust and desire, that the storm came crashing in and my euphoria struck me like white hot lightning. My own orgasm pulled Dean into his own one as a string of unintelligible curses fell from his lips before his thrusting ceased and he set me down gently on the bed. No words spoken, no movements made; just his eyes piercing mine as the sound of heavy breaths filled the room. I wasn’t sure how long we sat there for, not making a single move whilst regaining our composure. That was, until I reached out, unthinking, and traced my thumb over Deans bottom lip. My palm rested softly on his cheek and he allowed his eyes to flutter closed for a few short moments before opening them again. When I finally spoke, my voice was barely above a whisper.

“Dean I…I’m sorry.”

He looked puzzled.

“What for? I mean if anything, it should be me apologising.”

I shook my head, a few aches starting to settle over my body already.

“I feel like I’ve used you.”

He chuckled slightly, planting his hands either side of my head and leaning in slightly.

“I told you to.”

“No, like, today was rough, emotionally. It was my baggage and I feel like you’re the one I’ve forced to carry it.”

It was his turn to shake his head.

“Don’t be stupid. You think I’m here, helping you to forget two different versions of the same person against my will? Sweetheart, I want to be here, making you feel better anyway I can,” he smiled a boyish smile, “hell, I’d’ve made you hot chocolate with cream and frickin marshmallows if that would’ve helped. Or watched some dumb ass chick-flick. Maybe even both.”

I couldn’t stop the schoolgirl grin from blooming as I fought every urge to pull him down to me and kiss him. Kiss him like I fucking meant it.

“Could we still do that?”

He chuckled, the sound causing the butterflies in my chest to flutter.

“You bet you’re perfect ass we can,” he punctuated with a light slap to my rear. “What do you wanna watch?”

I pondered for a moment, wondering what DVDs the boys would have laying around in the bunker. In all honesty though, I had one box set to my name that Bobby bought me many moons ago.

“Is Lord of the Rings good with you?”

He looked up for a moment and I’m convinced I saw him mouth ‘thank you’ to the ceiling. But that would be absurd, right?

“Darlin’ it’s perfect. But first let’s get you cleaned up.”

——————————————————————

Up Next: Chapter 13

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@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[willalove75]

hello hello!! I hope you’re doing well and also super congrats on your baby 🎉🎉

Was wondering if you could possibly write more about domestic Alcina based on that one fic you wrote? Maybe something along the lines of a romantic night in together when it’s stormy outside. I’m a sucker for how you wrote her in a domestic and modern setting and I’d love to see more if you wouldn’t mind ^^’

no worries at all if you don’t take this request!! I just super love your writing for Alcina Dimitrescu and it makes me super happy to read your work when I can 🩵🩵

Hiii! Thank you so much! Baby and I are doing great! He’s the best thing in the whole world, I love him so much🥺😭💕

Thank you so much for the request! An idea for this popped into my head immediately when I read this ask and I’ve been super excited to write it since!! I’m so glad you liked my domestic!Alcina so much! She’s so much fun to write in different settings but a modern Alcina always has me in some kind of a chokehold😂

I hope you enjoy!!

Tags/warnings: fluff, smut, teensie bit of degradation kink and mommy kink, and more fluff.

A/N: ITS FINALLY DONE😭 I proof read this once so please ignore any errors or whatever. Or let me know and maybe I'll fix them (wishful thinking lmao) also soft!Alcina is baby.

Rain pelts against the back door while lightning fills the sky with flashes of white. The boom of the thunder makes the house shake. You find yourself curled up on the couch, staring out into the inky, rainy night as you pout. Usually, you’re not one to pout, but tonight, you make an exception. Justifying your sour attitude by telling yourself if anyone else was in your situation, they would be pouting too.

Today is your anniversary with Alcina, a day you were immensely looking forward to. The two of you have been together for a few years now, and every year Alcina would take the reins and plan what the two of you would do on your anniversary. Extravagant vacations, expensive jewelry, on your one year anniversary she even got you a brand new car meanwhile there was nothing wrong with the one you were driving. Alcina spared no expense and always went above and beyond.

This year, however, you begged her to let you plan the day. She could still arrange whatever ridiculous plans she could come up with; because a three year anniversary normally doesn’t call for a two week stay in a luxury resort on a tropical island, but for Alcina, it wasn’t something she thought twice about before booking.

After softening her up with some good sex and puppy dog eyes, Alcina rolled her blue-gray eyes while a smirk pulled at the corner of her lips as she relented.

“Fine, draga. You may plan what we do the day of our anniversary. However, I still fully intend to book the European getaway I’ve been eyeing for you.” You look up into her eyes as you lay on top of her, resting your chin on your arms folded over her chest, a wide smile gracing your features. Before you can speak she holds up her finger to stop you. “Only on one condition.”

Arching your brow at her, you ask “what condition?”

“In the condition that I finance whatever it is you are planning.” You go to argue and she cuts you off again. “Absolutely not, I will not have you spend your hard earned money on our anniversary. You may plan whatever you like, but you’re using my credit card.”

You roll your eyes at her and groan in disapproval. Before you can register her movements, Alcina’s large hand lands a firm smack on your ass. A yelp escapes your lips; your ass is already red, raw and sore from the night's earlier activities.

“Don’t make me spank that attitude out of you my darling. You know I won’t show you mercy.”

Rolling off of Alcina and onto your back, you cup your ass as you let out a whine.

“God damnit!”

Alcina smirks and before you can recover from the sting, you feel her weight settle on top of you.

“So, have we fixed that attitude? Or is a punishment in order?”

“Nooo.” You whine. “Fine, I’ll use your card.”

“Good girl.” Alcina says as she trails her lips and nose up and down the side of your neck, her skin just barely brushing against yours.

After the multiple rounds the two of you just went, you were convinced that you were tapped out for the night. However, in typical Alcina fashion, she knows exactly what to do to elicit a response from your body. As she places feather-light kisses up your neck, her hands slide up from your hips to the dip of your waist. Her hands travel higher until her fingertips are skimming the sides of your breasts. Even with the weight of her breasts on top of yours, you can still feel the sensation of your nipples hardening against her skin.

A familiar wetness forms between your legs for what feels like the hundredth time tonight as Alcina presses her thigh against your cunt. She smirks at how easily she’s able to arouse you. Sitting up, Alcina hooks one of your legs over her hip and rocks into you, grinding her cunt against yours.

“Mmm, I love how wet I can make you with just a few light touches. My sweet, sensitive girl.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a filthy moan as she picks up the pace. Before you know it, the two of you are rutting against each other, crying out each other's names as you chase your highs together.

The closer your anniversary got, the more excited you were for what you had planned. From morning until night, you had the whole day planned out. For breakfast, you were going to take her to her favorite cafe for coffee and pastries. After breakfast, the plan was to walk to her favorite art museum, which conveniently happened to be only a couple of blocks from the cafe. Knowing Alcina, even though she’s been there hundreds of times, the two of you would be wandering around the museum for hours. Especially since a new exhibit was supposed to open up a couple of weeks before your anniversary. It would be lunchtime by the time you were done at the museum, so you planned to have a picnic set up in the park in her favorite, secluded spot. You spared no expense on buying all of her favorite meats, cheeses, crackers, spreads, and of course, a couple of bottles of her favorite wine: Sanguis Virgnins. After lunch, you planned to walk around the park a bit and then before sunset, head to the beach for a sunset walk along the water. For dinner, you made a reservation at her favorite restaurant that overlooks the ocean. To conclude the evening, you planned to have rose petals scattered across the floor and candles lit around the house to set the mood for a passionate, romantic end to your anniversary.

Everything was set and perfect, now you only had to wait for the day. For days you were on the edge of your seat with excitement, hoping Alcina would love what you’ve curated for the two of you. It wasn’t until yesterday did things go south. A storm warning lit up your phone screen as you and Alcina were having dinner. The storm was supposed to veer off into the ocean and bypass you completely, but as if god himself wanted to shit all over your perfectly planned day, the storm came straight up the coast and landed practically at your front door.

Alcina knew how excited you were to surprise her with the perfect day so she insisted on doing as much as you possibly could. So on the morning of your anniversary, the two of you headed over to the cafe. Even though you were only outside just to get in and out of the car, by the time you finished breakfast and made it to the museum, the two of you were soaked to the bone. To make matters worse, the museum had the air conditioning on full blast, which caused the both of you to shiver as you tried to enjoy the artwork. You weren’t even in the museum for half an hour before you decided to cut your losses and head home.

So here you are, sitting on the couch staring out into the storm and pouting. After you got home, Alcina went to shower. She invited you in but you were too down and didn’t want to bring her mood down also, so you declined her offer and changed into comfy sweats and made your way downstairs to the living room.

“Draga?” Alcina’s voice pulls your focus away from the dark, dreary outdoors.

“Hm?”

“My darling, don’t look so upset.” She says as she makes her way over to you.

“I can’t help it, I am upset! I had the perfect day planned and it got completely shat on.”

Alcina comes to a stop in front of you and lifts your chin to look up at her. When you’re standing you have to crane your neck to look up at her, but when you’re sitting? You basically have to bend your head as far back as it can go.

With her other hand, she cards her fingers through your still-damp hair, gently scratching at your scalp.

“I’m sorry your plans got rained out, draga. But we still have plenty of time to turn this dreary day around.”

You place your hands on her hips, that are practically eye-level with you, and smooth your thumbs over the silk of her robe. “I guess.”

“Besides,” she says as the hand in your hair slides to the back of your head where she slowly grabs your hair by the root, just the way you like it. “You weren’t the only one who planned something for today. And luckily, the inclement weather has no effect on what I have planned for you tonight.” 

She gently pulls you up by your hair as she leans down and brushes her lips against yours. “So, what do you say, iubirea mea? Come, show me what you have here.”

Alcina pulls away before you can lean in to kiss her and she grabs your hand, leading you into the kitchen where the spread that was supposed to be for your picnic is laid out on the island.

Picking up a few items and inspecting them, Alcina raises an eyebrow and smirks at you when she recognizes all of her favorite, super fancy meats and cheeses.

“This is quite an impressive spread you have here, draga.”

You pick up a jar of caviar and turn it over in your hands as you speak. “Yeah, this was supposed to be our lunch, which was supposed to be in our favorite spot in the park.”

Alcina’s eyes soften at your words, touched at the thought and little details you put into your plans.

“Well, even though it’s past lunchtime, it would be a shame to let all of this go to waste, don’t you think?” She says, trying to bait you, but you can be just as stubborn as she is. So you just shrug your shoulders, mumbling an “I guess” in response.

She walks around the island and takes the jar of caviar out of your hands. Knowing how much you love her hands, she makes a show of popping the jar open and dipping a tiny spoon into it. When that doesn’t work, she offers you the spoon, knowing damn well you hate caviar. You take one whiff and you scrunch your nose and pull away.

“Oh stop, it doesn’t even have a smell.” She says before popping the spoon in her mouth and slowly closes her lips around it. Always one for theatrics, she slowly pulls the spoon from between her lips and rolls her eyes back and moans in pleasure. “Mmm, delicious.”

When her gray eyes open and meet yours, you can’t help but shake your head and let out a small chuckle at her antics. She leans in to kiss you and you pull back, avoiding her lips.

“Nuh-uh. I am not kissing you when you most certainly taste like fish.”

Alcina rolls her eyes for real this time and sets the jar and spoon down on the counter. To your surprise, she grabs the ball of mozzarella with her hands and pulls a chunk of it off. Splitting the piece in two, she leans her head back and drops the cheese into her mouth. After a couple of chews, since she is never one to speak with food in her mouth, she swallows it and arches her perfectly manicured brow at you.

“Better?” She says, flatly.

You can’t help but smile at her and nod your head. She leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips.

“Open.” She says once you part, still holding the other piece of mozzarella in her hand.

Opening your mouth wide, she drops the piece of cheese onto your tongue and you happily chew it. This time it's your turn for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and let out a moan - only it’s genuine, you’re not trying to put on a show like Alcina was earlier.

When you open your eyes, you open them to Alcina sticking her finger into her mouth, cleaning off the remnants of the cheese. Your mouth goes dry and your pupils dilate as you watch her. She always knows how to get you going and offers you her other finger to clean, and because you’re a total slut for this woman, you part your lips on command and take her finger into your mouth.

You caress her finger with your tongue a few times before Alcina presses down on it, pinning it in place. Her lips part and her eyes dilate as she looks down at you with her finger in your mouth and she slowly thrusts her finger back and forth across your tongue. With each thrust her finger goes a little deeper and deeper and you whimper around it. After one final thrust that goes deeper than all of the other ones, nearly making you gag, she pulls her finger from your mouth and captures your lips in a kiss. Cupping your face in her large hands, Alcina flicks her tongue into your mouth, once, twice, and as you lean in for a third swipe, she abruptly pulls away.

An actual whine leaves your lips before you can stop yourself and Alcina chuckles, brushing her nose against yours. She pulls away and makes her way back around the island, putting a small plate of food together.

Looking up at you, feigning innocence, she cocks her head to the side and asks “aren’t you going to eat?”

You let out a groan, now that you’re almost uncomfortably wet, you rub your thighs together and make your way next to her. Alcina smirks, knowing just how turned on you are. Her little plan to distract you is slowly coming to fruition.

Some time passes by and you end up sitting on the counter while you and Alcina feed each other different meats and cheeses and refill each other's wine glasses well before they need refilling. She spreads your favorite fig jam on a cracker and puts it between her teeth, offering you the other half. With a giggle, you bite into the other half. As you’re each chewing your piece, in an uncharacteristic move, no doubt fueled by the copious amounts of wine you’ve both had, Alcina presses her lips into yours. You can’t help but laugh as she kisses you while you both have crackers and jam in your mouths and you feel Alcina smile into the kiss. She places both hands on either side of you on the counter, caging you in and continues to kiss all over your face, jaw and neck. In a fit of laughter, you try to lean back but she wraps her arms around you and pulls you to the edge, her hips slotting perfectly between your legs.

By the time her kisses come to a stop, the two of you are giggling like teenagers and you wrap your arms around her neck as you nuzzle into each other. When you pull back, you still have smiles plastered across your faces and you see the sparkle in Alcina’s eyes. When you’re this close to her, you can really see the crows feet in the corners of her eyes and the delicate smile lines that line her perfectly plump lips. 

Your heart stutters in your chest at the way she looks at you so lovingly. It still amazes you that you were able to melt the heart of the self-proclaimed Ice Queen. There was a time where you weren’t sure if you were ever going to get past the layers and layers of walls she had built up over the years before you met. It took time and patience, but she slowly let her walls come down brick by brick. There were a few times where you thought you were never going to see the real her and you debated on ending the relationship. Alcina always seemed to know when you were reaching that breaking point and even though it was hard and wildly uncomfortable, she tore down a few more walls and let you further in. She showed you the scared girl underneath that cold exterior. The girl that was terrified of having her heart broken again, each time you saw past another wall you melted for her.

There was one time where you were literally walking out the door after an argument over her keeping you at arms length. The only thing that stopped you was the way her voice cracked when she called after you. When you turned around you saw her lips trembling and tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. That night she broke through the rest of her walls and let you completely in. She told you things she’s never told anyone else before. Told you about her childhood, her tumultuous relationship with her family, how they tried to marry her off just to get rid of her. She poured her heart out to you and you knew then and there that no matter what else happened, you were going to be the one that protected her fragile heart from then on.

“What?” Alcina asks as she stares back into your eyes.

“Nothing.” You say as you shake your head. “I just love you so much, Alcina.”

“Și eu te iubesc atât de mult, draga mea.” 

(I love you so much too, my darling)

Alcina takes your wine glass from your hand and sets it down next to hers on the counter. Before you can protest she silences you with a kiss. It starts out soft and slow, but before you know it your kisses become more passionate, more frenzied. Her hands slide from your hips to underneath your ass and you grab the hair at the back of her head with one hand and hook your other arm around her neck.

In one swift movement, Alcina lifts you off of the counter and you squeal into her lips. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around her waist. She carries you up the stairs as if you weigh nothing, and heads into the bedroom. Often times when the two of you get to this stage, since it’s not the first time she’s carried you into the bedroom, Alcina will unceremoniously toss you onto the bed and either pounce on you, or torture you by making you wait. As you brace yourself to be tossed, you’re surprised when her grip on you tightens and she gently lays you down, allowing some, but not all, of her weight to rest on top of you.

Alcina looks at you in the most tender way. Her eyes take in every detail of your face and you can’t help but do the same, admiring her naturally long eyelashes, the blues and grays that swirl in her irises, and her lipstick-free lips that look all too kissable. She brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face before cupping your cheek and capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss. The kiss intensifies when you feel her lick against your lips and you eagerly let her in. More of her weight settles on top of you when you pull her closer, her hips slotted perfectly between your legs. As you’re reveling in the feeling of her on top of you, Alcina takes you by surprise by taking your bottom lip between her lips and sucking on it, drawing out a moan from your lips. She nips at it before letting it go and dives in for a hungrier kiss. You can’t help but roll your hips into her as she claims your mouth, and she groans into the kiss, rolling her hips into you in response. If she was wearing her strap right now she’d be buried to the hilt and the thought sends a shiver down your spine.

Chuckling at feeling you shiver, she rolls her hips into you again and again, a little harder each time. You desperately try to grind into her but there just isn’t enough friction at this angle and you let out a pitiful whine before you can stop yourself. Alcina smiles into the kiss and slows down before pulling away. She rubs her thumb across your eyebrows, softening the furrow that developed between them once she stopped kissing you.

“Do you want your present now, sweet girl?” She asks as her fingers dance across your skin.

“Mhm.” You hum, nodding at her with a smile. 

“As you wish. There are just a few things that need to be done before you get your present.”

“Like what?”

“Well, first things first, this,” she says, tugging at your sweatshirt. “Needs to go.”

Alcina sits back on her heels, giving you space to sit up. Her hands slide under your sweatshirt, letting out a purr when she feels bare skin underneath her fingertips. 

“Nothing underneath? Today must be my lucky day.” She teases.

She helps you pull your sweatshirt up, her hands stopping at the sides of your ribs. You pull it over your head and toss it onto the floor. She guides you to lay back down, each of her hands palming a breast as you fall back into the mattress. Cold fingers send a chill down your spine, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin and your nipples to harden at the touch. Alcina gropes and massages them before squeezing one and dragging her tongue across a hardened peak. A gasp of surprise escapes from your lips and you hum and roll your hips as she mirrors the action on the other side.

Alcina peppers your chest with kisses and small bites, soothing over each sting with her tongue. Once she is satisfied with the marks she left, her fingers hook into the waistline of your sweatpants.

“Next, these need to go as well. May I?”

Your hips roll at the question and you nod your head, not wanting to let her hear the desperation in your voice.

Alcina lets out a tsk.

“Use your words.” She reprimands.

“Yes, god, take them off!”

“Good girl.” She says with a chuckle and she begins to pull your sweatpants down your legs.

Her eyes glow with lust as she pulls them off, realizing you’re bare underneath those as well. 

“And no panties either?” She hums. “You spoil me, draga.”

Your sweatpants are cast away, landing somewhere on the bedroom floor and immediately forgotten about. Alcina takes a moment to admire you sprawled out, naked on the bed before her. A faint flush develops on your cheeks and across your chest as her eyes roam over every inch of your body. 

“Doamne, ești uluitor.” She whispers to herself.

(“God, you are breathtaking.”)

Even though you’re not sure exactly what it was that she said, you feel your flush deepen and you instinctively cover your face with your hands, a sudden bout of shyness overtaking you.

“No, no, don’t hide.” You can hear the smile in her voice as she takes your hands and pulls them from your face, holding them at your sides but not restraining you. “Let me see you, draga.”

You open your eyes to see her gray-blue eyes staring back at you and you can’t help but smile up at her.

“You are so beautiful, my love.” Alcina says before capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

The kiss doesn’t last long before Alcina pulls away and sits back up. Her hands slide down the hourglass of your waist and down your thighs, coming to a rest at your knees.

“Now, there’s one last thing that needs to happen before you get your present, my sweet girl.”

“What?”

Alcina spreads your legs apart, opening you up wide for her.

“I need you absolutely soaked for what I have planned next.” She says as she drags the back of her knuckles up your already dripping slit, just barely nudging your clit. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes.” You pant. Her thumb brushes over your clit a few times before slowly circling it. “Fuck, yes, I can.” You moan.

“That’s my good girl.” Alcina says before settling herself between your legs.

She teases your clit with her fingers for a few more seconds and just before you become too impatient, she holds you by the back of your knees, spreads your legs wide, and licks a broad strip up your cunt, flicking your clit with her tongue. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a guttural moan as she repeats the motion over and over again. Just as your legs begin to tremble, Alcina pulls away and removes one hand from your leg. Looking up at her, you see her lips, nose and chin glistening with your arousal and she sucks two of her fingers into her mouth, her eyes never once leaving yours. Heat pools in your belly when she releases her fingers with a pop and they disappear below her. Without taking her eyes off of you, she effortlessly slips them into you. You’re the one who breaks eye contact when she pushes them deep into your pussy and curls them into that spongy spot that makes you see stars.

With your eyes rolling into the back of your head, Alcina nips and licks the inside of your thigh as she gently massages that sweet spot inside. It’s enough to have you moaning her name, but not quite enough to get you where you so desperately want her to take you to. Alcina senses your growing frustration and gently laps at your clit, adding even more pleasure to your body. You don’t feel yourself getting close until she takes the hardened nub between her lips and sucks at it, occasionally flicking her tongue over it. At the first spark of arousal that shoots up your spine, you cry out as your hands grab at Alcina’s head, burying your fingers into her hair.

Just as you’re about to get to the edge, Alcina pulls her fingers out and releases your clit from between her lips. A pathetic whimper leaves your lips and you look down at her in disbelief.

“What-”

“Patience, draga, you can’t come yet.”

“Why not?” You whine.

“Because I said so. Now be a good girl and spread your legs wide. You can take more of me, can’t you, draga?”

“Yes, fuck, please. Fill me.”

“Be careful what you wish for, draga.” She says with a dark chuckle.

Before you can react, Alcina slides three fingers into your cunt and sets a near brutal pace. You collapse back onto the bed with a cry as she fucks you harder and harder. Your legs tremble around her and just as you’re about to reach your peak again, she slows down, taking your impending orgasm with her.

“Fuck!” You cry. “Why?!”

“I already told you, I’m just getting you ready for what’s to come, my love. Patience.”

She thrusts her fingers in and out of you, keeping you right on the precipice of bliss until she’s satisfied with how drenched and stretched out you are. 

After edging you once more, Alcina pulls away all together and sits back up.

“I think you’re ready for your present now, don’t you think?”

“God yes, please!”

“Is my sweet girl's tight cunt all wet and stretched out for me?” She teases as she hovers over you.

“Yes, fuck.” You breathe.

Alcina places a soft kiss on your lips and moves off of the bed and towards the walk-in closet.

“I’ll be back in a second.”

You wait, impatiently, for Alcina to return and when she does, she’s holding a double ended strap-on dildo in one hand, a bottle of lube in the other and a towel slung over her shoulder. The dildo is purple and quite large, both in length and girth; it’s easily one of the biggest toys you own. Now you get why Alcina needed you so stretched and wet.

She sees the excitement in your eyes as she makes her way towards the bed and lets out a low chuckle.

“Are you excited about your present, draga?”

With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, all you can do is mumble “mhm” and nod your head; your eyes never straying from the toy in her hand. Your legs unconsciously open wider for her as she approaches.

Alcina kneels in front of you on the bed and guides you to lay back down before popping open the lube. She coats her end in the lube and makes a show of using two fingers to spread her lips wide. You can already see how wet she is and that her clit is enlarged and puffy. It takes all of your self control to stay where you are and not pounce on her and bury your tongue inside of her. Noticing the look in your eyes, Alcina teases you by slowly rubbing the toy between her lips, letting out tiny gasps as she nudges her clit with the tip. Just as you feel yourself begin to clench around nothing, Alcina slides the toy into her cunt and throws her head back, letting out a satisfied moan.

When she looks back down at you, her irises are all but swallowed by her dilated pupils. Wordlessly, she pops open the lube cap again and this time coats your end in it. You think she’s going to wipe the excess off on the towel but instead, she cups your soaked pussy and spreads the remaining lube all over you. She takes you by surprise when she shoves three fingers deep into you again, making you cry out in pleasure. After a few twists and thrusts, she pulls them out and begins stroking the cock jutting out from between her legs.

“Are you ready, sweet girl?”

“Yes, fuck, please. I need it.”

Alcina lets out a chuckle. “We haven’t even started and you’re already begging for my cock? Such a desperate little slut, aren’t you?”

“Mhm.” You whine.

She takes a moment to admire how turned on and eager you are, her eyes focused on your throbbing pussy and she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Look at you, so wet and clenching around nothing already. Since you’re so desperate, you’re going to be a good girl and take mommy’s whole cock. That’s fine with you, isn’t it, draga?”

“Yes! Please, please give it to me. I’ve been so good.” You let out a whine as Alcina rubs the head of the purple strap up and down your drenched slit, just barely brushing over your clit.

“You have been a good girl for me tonight, so I won’t tease you too badly. Let me get you a little more stretched before I fuck you into the mattress. Is that alright, sweet girl?” She asks as she slowly pushes the head between your lips and past the first ring of muscle. It's deep enough for you to clench around, but not enough to get any pleasure from, just the sensation of the head stretching you out.

You whine and try to rock your hips to get her deeper, but Alcina grabs your legs underneath your knees and spreads you wide, holding you in place.

“You’ve been such a good girl this far, don’t make me punish you this early.”

All you can do is whine in response and try to not squirm on the bed. Finally, Alcina decides to stop teasing you and without warning, sinks the entire length of the strap into you and you let out a strangled cry.

“Fuck, I stretched you out so nicely and you’re still so tight.” She says as her eyes flutter from the pleasure she’s receiving from her end of the strap.

Alcina pulls out and thrusts back into you again, she does this a few more times before she begins to lose her composure and she pushes your knees so far backwards they’re practically at your ears. At this angle, with you so spread, Alcina is able to pull out and fuck you deeper and harder as she sets a pace that causes you to cry out with each thrust.

“Good girl.” She purrs. “Look at you, taking my cock so perfectly. God, I love all of the little noises you make when I fuck you.”

Just as you feel like your orgasm is about to build, Alcina switches her pace and bottoms you out, with her hips flush against you and begins to grind the cock deep into your pussy. A surprised gasp escapes your lips and you whimper each time she grinds into you.

“Oh fuck! Alcina!”

“I know baby, it feels so good doesn’t it? That’s it, keep taking it.”

Outside, the storm begins to pick up. The room is occasionally lit up by the lightning cracking across the sky and the thunder continues to shake the house. But with Alcina being buried so deep inside of you, neither of you give it any attention.

The room is filled with the sounds of both of your moans and cries and the sound of her hips slamming into you over and over again. Alcina lets go of your legs and you wrap them around her, keeping her close. Your arms wrap around her neck and you pull her down into a sloppy kiss of clashing teeth, tongues and noses. She bites down on your lower lip, nearly breaking the skin and you rake your nails down her back as she rails into you over and over again. She cries out from the mixture of pleasure and pain from your nails. One of her hands wraps around your neck, just the way you like it, and she adds a slight amount of pressure to the sides.

“You take my big cock so well. Look at you, such a perfect little fuck toy for mommy, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Fuck.” You whine as your eyes roll back.

“God, you’re so fucking wet for me, I can’t wait to make you explode.” She says with what sounds like renewed determination as she switches her strokes to long, hard ones.

The new pattern causes you to arch your back into her, letting out a guttural moan. Her relentless pounding causes your orgasm to build once more, this time much more quickly. As Alcina feels you begin to clench harder and tense around her, she lets out a dark chuckle.

“You’re so close already, I can feel how hard you’re clenching. You want to come so badly, don’t you, my sweet girl?” All you’re able to muster is a whimper and a slight head nod. “Tell me, tell me how badly you want to come.”

“So fucking bad. Please, please don’t fucking stop.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’m nowhere near done with you, draga. Especially not before you give me what I want.”

Knowing what she means, you let out a whine and tightly grasp at the hair on the back of her head. Alcina reaches between your bodies and her thrusts falter for just a moment. Before you can even complain, the cock begins to vibrate inside of you and you cry out for her.

“That’s it, draga, that’s it. Don’t fight it, give it to me my love.” She says in an unexpectedly soft tone, especially given how hard she’s fucking you; but you’re too far gone to really notice.

After a few hard thrusts you’re right on the edge and you can hear how wet you are each time she slams into you.

“Fuck, Alci, fuck, please, please, make me, I’m gonna-”

Before you can finish your ramblings, your orgasm hits you like a bus. Your back arches off of the bed and your eyes roll to the back of your head. A scream rips through your vocal cords as the intense pleasure takes over your body. As Alcina fucks you through it, you feel a rush of liquid between the two of you. Your orgasm gets splattered across your thighs and lower stomach as Alcina’s thrusts continue until your body collapses back onto the bed. She slows her pace and comes to a stop, the strap still nestled deep inside of you as you clench around it while your body trembles from the intensity of your orgasm.

Alcina buries her face into your neck and you feel her panting against you as she catches her breath. When you finally come back into your body, because you’re pretty fucking sure you soul was separated from you for a few minutes, you run your fingers through Alcina’s hair and hold her close.

“Holy shit.” You pant. “That was crazy.”

“That was so fucking hot.” Alcina mumbles into your neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever made you squirt that much before, we’re fucking drenched.”

You let out a breathy chuckle and Alcina presses a kiss into your skin. She sits up and slowly pulls out of you and you whine from the loss.

“Oh hush, don’t think I’m done with you just yet.” She says with a devious smile. “I still have to come.”

“How you didn’t during that is actually insane.”

“I came close a few times, but that’s not how I want you when I do. And as you well know, I usually get what I want.” 

You can’t help but laugh at her arrogance. Does she usually get what she wants? Of course she does. But you have her wrapped so tightly around your finger that more often than not, you get what you want too. 

“Oh? Then how do you want me?”

“Ready for more already?” She asks with an arched brow.

“I will be, I just need a minute.”

Alcina leans down and pulls you into a passionate kiss. Your tongues dance around each other as your hands wander across your bodies. After a couple of minutes, Alcina pulls away and has you flip onto your stomach. She begins to pull your hips up and you get up onto all fours. Before you can get comfortable, you feel Alcina’s strong grip on the back of your head as she pushes you down onto the pillows, face down, ass up.

“Just like that.” She says as she holds your head down and spreads your legs wider.

Even though you’re drenched, Alcina still pops open the lube and coats the toy in it again. Both of you agree, there’s never such a thing as too much lube. Plus, the last thing she wants is to subject you to any kind of friction burn. The two of you have been down that road before and even though it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, it definitely put a damper on the night and kept you out of commission for a couple of days.

She rubs the toy against you a couple of times before slipping it back in. A few slow, long, deep thrusts have you mewling beneath her and you hear her smirk with pride at how easily she can unravel you.

“For my final gift to you tonight,” She says as she keeps her thrusts steady. “You can come as many times as you want.” You let out a satisfied moan that turns into a cry as she thrusts hard into you. “Don’t get too excited, there is a catch.” She says as she returns to her slower pace. “You can come as many times as you want, but I won’t stop until I come. Alright?”

You know if you used your safe word she would stop in an instant. As torturous as the orgasms she forces upon you can be, they’re also other-worldly and there’s definitely a part of you that never wants them to stop, even if you’re a trembling, overstimulated mess.

Eager for her to start, you whine a “mhm” and nod your head. A sharp smack lands on your ass and you yelp both from the surprise and the sting.

“Use your words. Do you understand me?” She says as her tone darkens and the grip on your hair tightens to the point of almost being painful.

“Yes! I can come over and over again and you won’t stop until you come.”

Another sharp slap meets your ass and Alcina immediately soothes it by running her hand over the mark that is definitely starting to develop.

“Good girl. Now be a good little slut and take my cock like the perfect little toy you are.”

Alcina immediately sets a brutal pace, slamming her hips into your ass over and over again. Even if you tried, you wouldn’t have been able to keep the moans and whimpers from slipping through your lips. The grunts coming from behind you as Alcina fucks you spurs you on and you rock back into each thrust, causing her to let out a groan.

“Fuck, good girl.” She says, smacking your ass again. “I love your cunt, taking my cock so perfectly.”

The first orgasm hits you hard and you cry out as you tremble underneath her. It came faster than you were expecting but you’re too blissed out to care that this will inevitably be the first of many orgasms in this position.

Alcina’s pace doesn’t falter or slow down as you come and you whine from the slight overstimulation.

“I told you, draga, I’m not stopping until I come.” She says between pants.

The next two orgasms come one right after the other and you cry out while you shake underneath her. Alcina tightens the grip on your hair and pushes you harder into the mattress while she digs her fingers so hard into your hip there’s no way there won’t be small bruises there later tonight.

You lost count of how many times she made you come by the time you feel yourself losing steam. Her thrusts begin to falter just a bit, signaling she’s getting close. Cracking open one of your eyes, you see Alcina in your peripheral. Her eyes are screwed shut and her lip is caught between her bottom teeth. She tries to keep quiet but you can still hear the small moans and whimpers that escape from her as she gets closer to her release.

With a renewed determination, you slam your hips back into each of her thrusts and she lets out a groan of pleasure.

“Oh fuck, draga, good girl. God, yes!” She says as she throws her head back.

Alcina stops holding back her moans and her thrusts start to lose their rhythm, her low moans and whimpers get higher and higher the closer she gets to her release.

After one high-pitched moan, you can feel the hand in your hair begin to tremble and she releases her grip. Alcina falls forward until there isn’t an inch of room between your bodies, catching herself on her hands that landed on either side of you. She buries her face into your neck and sinks the strap deep into you before grinding down. The closer she gets, the sweeter her moans are when she cries into your skin. With her forehead resting against your cheek, you sink your fingers into her tousled hair, holding her against you.

“Baby, I - I’m gonna -” she whimpers softly into you. “Oh, oh! Oh fuck!”

Her body trembles on top of you and as she fucks herself through her orgasm crying out your name. You hit your peak once more and try to grind back into her as much as you can with her laying on top of you. Your bodies tremble in overstimulation as you both slow down, loud moans and cries softening into quiet whimpers and panting breaths.

The two of you lay there for a couple of minutes as you catch your breaths and come down from your highs.

“I just need a moment and then I’ll get off of you. I’m sorry, I must be crushing you.” She says softly. You can hear the vulnerability in her voice that she lets through only when she’s with you in the privacy of your bedroom.

For someone who is so strong and confident in herself and her body, Alcina also holds many insecurities about her size. She’s learned to accept and embrace the space she takes up, but in quieter moments, she’s opened up about how there are days she hates feeling like a giant. Especially when you’re so small compared to her, with nearly a foot in height difference between the two of you, she often worries about putting all of her weight on you, or afraid she’s going to do something that will hurt you.

She moves to get up and the hold you have on her hair tightens, keeping her against you.

“No, it’s okay, I’m fine.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. I like the feeling of your weight on me. It makes me feel safe.” You quietly admit.

“Are you just saying that?”

“Nuh-uh.” You hum. “I promise. I always feel so well protected by you, but when you’re on top of me like this, I feel like nothing in the world can hurt me.” You say as you do your best to nuzzle into her.

It takes a few moments of an inner battle inside of Alcina before you feel her relax, the rest of her weight settling on top of you. After a quick wiggle to adjust so you can breathe, you let out a content sigh and you scratch at your scalp. Alcina snakes her hands underneath you and holds you tight.

You feel something wet on your shoulder just as you hear Alcina sniffle above you.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” The concern in your voice is thick and you try to turn your head towards her as much as you can.

Alcina shakes her head and takes a quivering breath in.

“I’m alright.”

“Baby why are you crying?” This time you try to turn your body a little to get a better look at her but she keeps you pinned in place.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

“For what, honey?”

“For loving me. All of me. You have no idea how much I treasure you.”

“Can I look at you?” You ask.

Alcina nods her head and slowly pushes herself off of you before sliding out the toy still buried in you. As you roll over, Alcina removes her end of the you and tosses it onto the towel at the end of the bed. Stretching your arms out towards her, Alcina crawls into them and you place a kiss at the top of her head, holding her tight.

She sniffles again and you pull back from her and place your knuckles under her chin, raising her gaze to look up at you, as she’s done to you countless times.

“I love you so much. Every inch of you. Every part of you, even the parts you don’t like about yourself, I love them and I always will.”

Looking into her gorgeous eyes, she looks up at you innocently. Alcina may be a lot of woman, but in moments like this you see the young girl she keeps buried inside of her. With all six foot three of her curled into you, you can’t help but cuddle her like she’s your size.

Alcina slides her hand into your hair and pulls you into a deep kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made up for when words failed. The kind that conveyed so much love it made your heart nearly burst.

When your lips part you wipe the trail her tears left behind and she lets out a huff before sitting up and wiping her eyes.

“Ugh, well this wasn’t part of the plan!”

You let out a chuckle while rubbing your hands over her thighs.

“Maybe not, but I do love when you’re soft.” Alcina rolls her eyes at you. “What? I love seeing the soft side of my big, bad, intimidating girlfriend.” You say as you wrap your arms around her waist and rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her. 

Alcina playfully rolls her eyes at you before wrapping her arms around you and pulling you back down onto the mattress. You let out a surprised squeal and laugh as she pulls you down.

“I’ll show you big, bad, and intimidating.” She says, flippantly snapping her teeth at you.

“Oh no, I’m so scared!” You say with almost too much sarcasm in your voice as you laugh.

Alcina scoffs at you.

“Don’t be fresh!” She says as she goes to tickle you.

“No! No, no, no!” You yelp, trying to squirm away from her.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere!”

The two of you end up in a pile of limbs and laughter before she finally gives up on tickling you. The drastic shift of moods tonight has you absolutely wiped but Alcina convinces you to shower with her before going to sleep.

Once you’re both done and ready for bed, you notice the rain has finally stopped and all you hear outside is the sound of frogs croaking in the distance. Alcina holds you against her and kisses your forehead.

“I truly am sorry your plans got rained out today, draga.” She says. “Perhaps we can reschedule what you had planned for next weekend?”

“You really want to do that?”

“Of course I do! You put so much time and effort into it. All of the little details you decided to add, like my favorite foods or my favorite museum, it means so much to me that you wanted to do all of those things with me for our anniversary.”

“Well, yeah. I have fun when you have fun. Besides, it’s not like I get many opportunities to woo you.” You say with a smirk.

Alcina laughs and kisses the side of your head.

“We shall have to remedy that, then.” She puts her fingers under your chin and guides you to look up at her. “Happy anniversary, draga mea. Ai toată inima mea. Te iubesc atât de mult îngerul meu.” (You have my whole heart. I love you so much my angel).

“Happy anniversary, Alcina. I love you.”

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 25 . Rumination

a/n: Fun fact: when I drafted the storyboard for this it was suppose to have 19 chapters but when I wrote it it ended up having 26 chapters... idfk what happened...

tags: feelings in progress

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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“So you actually have the option of just giving out your vitality instead of absorbing someone else’s wound?”

Choi Han asked _____ as the healer examined the scratch on his palm.

“Yeah, that’s what the God of Death told me. But honestly, this is easier to do.”

At that moment the scratch transferred over to _____. Making Choi Han retreat his hand.

“_____-nim give that back. Give it back right now.”

“Why are you asking for it like it’s something you bought? Plus it’s just a scratch, look it’s barely visible on me.”

The healer looked at the swordmaster confusedly. They couldn’t understand why his so adamant about returning the wound.

“At least take some of my vitality.”

“What–? No way! I just healed you!”

“Then give it back _____-nim.”

“Give what back?”

Cale– no. Naru’s voice suddenly interjected in the conversation. He looked at the two, curious as to what they could have been arguing about.

“Human you’re back! _____ was practising their healing abilities on Choi Han but then got impatient and absorbed the wound instead. Now Choi Han is asking them to give his wound back!”

Raon answered Cale’s curiosity instead of the two. The now 12-year-old child could only frown and shake his head.

“_____ remember that we agreed that you’ll practice because I won’t let you absorb anyone else’s wounds.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying.”

_____ waved their hand off at Cale’s scolding.

And it's true. They have been working hard to adjust to the new change in how they use their power. It’s hard to not automatically absorb someone’s wound or sickness but the healer figured they’d master it soon enough.

It’s just that there’s a lot on their mind right now.

The blessing of the gods. White Star’s plans. Cale’s real identity. Their feelings.

It’s just a lot to take in all at once.

Others understand that the healer’s mind is complicated. That’s why they don’t put any pressure. Reassure _____ that they are mostly in the Endable Kingdom for Cale’s peace of mind. That they can relax because they’d only have to move if it’s an emergency.

“You also know about our human _____?”

Raon spoke vaguely one day. Despite that, the healer still understood what he meant and the reason for his vague words.

“I do. It’s a secret among the four of us right?”

_____ put their index finger on their face to emphasize the secrecy.

“Yes! I won't tell anyone!”

The dragon spun excitedly around the room. It makes _____smile, it had been so long since they’d talked with Raon and they were glad his as energetic as before.

However, the mention of Cale’s secret got them thinking about his real identity. _____ didn’t mind it. The current Cale is the one they knew. So they have no qualms about his identity.

But they did fear the chance of those who knew the original Cale finding out. Like his parents or Ron.

What would be the chance that they’d be sad? Upset that all this time it actually wasn’t their Cale but someone else.

_____’s heart ache at the thought of it.

Cale– no, Kim Rok Soo sounds like he already lost so much. It would be unfair if he lost his biological family here too.

Something like that happening would be cruel.

Not just to Cale, but to his family as well.

“You know… This kind of feels like I’m on babysitting duty.”

_____ suddenly said while eating dinner with Naru.

“...What the fuck?”

The disguised man almost choked on his food at the random statement.

“_____… No… Please…”

A sour look painted his face. As if the thought of _____ babysitting him was so vile.

“I understand. Stop looking at me like that, I’ll shut up about it.”

The healer laughed before continuing to eat their food. A few minutes of silence lingered as the two finished their food.

After eating, the two decided to hang out on Naru’s bed. With _____ sitting on it while Naru lay his head on the healer’s lap.

“Are you having a hard time?”

_____ stroked Naru’s white hair as they asked the question.

“Just a bit.”

He answered truthfully. The healer hummed, encouraging him to speak further.

“But it’s manageable. I’m doing it for our friends after all.”

“I’m glad. Once we solve this let’s get you that slacker life.”

Their conversation ended at that. Both decide to silently bask in each other’s presence. Lost in their train of thought.

Friends…

Cale’s response to _____’s question made the healer realise something. It made them realise just how loved they are right now.

How they have been so focused on other things that they didn’t notice it. Too busy chasing the ghost of the past. Getting validation from those who will never give it. When in fact they already have so much.

They have found their real family. They are so loved.

Just now are they realising such facts.

Regret and happiness rush through their body at the reflection.

Satisfaction comes along right behind them.

‘Yeah, things as they are right now are fine. I don’t need anything else, just my friends and their love. There’s no need to pursue romance. I’m sure it’ll go away someday.’

Was what _____ thought to themself.

However, some time later…

“Do you know just how much my heart longed for you while I was away?”

“Cale..? Excuse… me..?”

[howyouloveyourdragon]

𝕬𝖑𝖑'𝖘 𝕱𝖆𝖎𝖗 𝕴𝖓 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕰𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 (part i)

​​🇨​​🇭​​🇦​​🇵​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​ ​🇴​​🇳​​🇪​⦂ 🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​​🇼​​🇦​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​ ​🇴​​🇫​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇼​​🇪​​🇸​​🇹​

summary: After Jacaerys is sent crashing into the icy ocean that he had thought to have escaped once before and slowly feels himself drift away from this realm...he awakens to a charming woman ensuring his health. A witch. Inviting her home is easy but it begins to sour when he discovers this witch is not unknown to his mother and neither is her heart. pairing: slowburn jacaerys velaryon x witch!reader x (later) rhaenyra targaryen pronouns: she/her part: 1/8 dividers by: hitobaby wordcount: 4,108 

A powerful wave passes over his head and forces a rough gasp to rip from Prince Jacaerys Velaryon’s throat. At two and twenty, he had not imagined that he would be escaping death a second time beneath the sea’s ferocious call…but the ache of his arms are growing and his eyelids are slackening. Even his heart shivers as the cold water washes over him. Jacaerys can feel his useless hands claw at the relentless waves to no avail but still, hope latches on as tight as a stiff padlock. As tight as a man still believing of the Gods and all to which they had promised him. Whispers hiss through his ears from the wind, false promises of safety and comfort if he would just…let…go. And yet he does not. Not at first. Not at second…and then…He cannot ignore the tempting exhaustion any longer…He cannot…He cannot…He takes one last breath and then his fluttering lashes tire as his heart begins to feel more like a brush than a beat. All’s fair in love and war, they had said, whispering it into the shell of his ear until gooseflesh had stained his shivers. The exhaustion of war was long-lasting, turning thick skin fragile and in this cursed, wretched case–a prince into a man as weak as a drained newt.

Salt rubs roughly against his scalp as his body wraps around a broken plank of dark wood. Somehow, he cannot find the strength to stay afloat however as his body begins to slowly sink away from it. The weight of his soaked fabrics clings tightly to him, suffocating. Jacaerys feels his eyes flicker but no longer with desperation to escape but instead desperation to release himself from the thoughts of his mother, of his brothers…of gentle Lucerys awaiting him in the realm he cannot yet reach. To finally escape the nobles that haunt him about the keep. The question bellows in his mind; why are you still fighting? The war has passed and yet still death entangles its cold fingers around you. Your betrothed has already wedded another, your trueborn brothers support your mother’s legacy, your mother has been named Queen–why are you still fighting thine own destiny? Thine own fate? Truly if he were fated to die, Jacaerys would consider such thoughts but surely the Gods would not punish him for mere errors of his heritage and if not for that then why else? To what does he owe his life? It is torturous that he still cannot grasp onto the wood as he slowly slips. It is infuriating how the clutches of Gods do not reach for him. Perhaps being devout is not quite enough to save him this time…Perhaps it never was. His lids turn limp, furiously pushing upward despite the pressure like a dismantled current. As the sea turns, the prince imagines his mother’s face at the news. Who would tell her? If anyone. He had not told anybody that he had planned to visit the Westerlands, he had not told anybody to expect him home at all and after so many trips north unnoticed…

He contemplates in the haze of disconnected presence whether it be best that she be informed or not. To which rumour would Mushroom continue to concoct should he pass? A faint smile twitches at his mouth. Perhaps he would continue to spout tales of the fictitious Stark girl, that he had run away with her in the throes of passion and heart-ache. He should like that tale, he thinks to himself. Jacaerys imagines it, of bards not singing of victory and accomplishment but love instead as he rots below the water. Never to be seen by the court’s scrutinising stare again. Perhaps Mushroom would envision him in a little cottage surrounded by greenery and lush forest. Making his way with pots, pans and crops of his own. It had been a long time since Vermax passed and yet Jacaerys feels his mind drift to him. To the sight of him resting curled beside that little cottage. Of this supposed ‘Sara’ outstretching her soft hand toward him and feeling the nuzzle of his rough snout. Would she want himself? Would she caress him and entangle her fingers in his hair and brush each strand away as if they were precious. As if he might be? He fools himself of the faraway dream as wind sweeps it now. He can feel it, he swears he does…If Jacaerys Velaryon should die a fool, it would still content him, he decides. His lids droop themselves gently. Content…such a simple word and yet one he had been chasing for what felt like centuries. And so he thanks the Gods for this gift as he lets go. For Mushroom’s frivolous stories, for his mother’s crown, for his brother’s timid bravery. For home. Even if it is not his own. He thanks them. And he lets go. 

Which is why a jolt drops through him when he awakens with an unexpected, wet cloth on his head and a scratchy blanket cocooning him. He blinks once, twice and then thrice as a soft golden light floats like a mist beside him. A gasp jumps past his lips, his eyes just as wide as those belonging to a fearful stag. The shock freezes him. There is no candle in sight. He shifts for only but a moment before he jumps again at the sound of a creak beneath him. The bed, of course, he sighs. He must recall that these are not the luxurious quarters he is used to. Jacaerys looks around him as his breath quickens, it is certain by the wooden planks that this is not his home and nor does he expect to find a loved one nursing but then…who has been? The door squeaks its presence like a vengeful kitten before a gentle face pokes through the gap. Jacaerys feels his sights rest on…a woman. A young woman. A young woman who is…He blinks. Beautiful. The prince stiffens his posture immediately and clears his throat. And then just as quick as the door opened, she was suddenly at his side and her oddly gentle hands were now taking away a wetted cloth from his forehead. He flushes pink as he realises. She caresses his face gently. “Oh you poor thing,” She says, her words soft and cooing. Her lullaby lips soften him with the speed of clicking her fingers as they press to his temples. Jacaerys can feel his lashes flutter as the soothing strokes of her fingers gentle his mind, circling the skin below his eye. And then the sweetest words fall from her lips, foreign and yet ever so welcome to his wanton ears. A sweet song from lands of old, lands he had never been and yet they flow through him as easily as his blood through his own veins. As if they are part of him. 

The woman looks commonborn by her dress and the flicker of dirt across her face but still, the prince is not certain. She handles him with the softness of a bird and the care of a devotee. He turns pink at the thought alone. At the image that flashes across his mind…The image of touching those pretty cheeks of hers and cupping them gently–of being close enough to do so...but that might be his delirium guiding those thoughts. He cannot find it in himself to care however when her lashes flutter over her eyes which shine like the reflection of an opal. When she leans forward and kisses either temple before pulling back again. The heat that radiates her flesh presses into him with homely warmth and the lingering scent of amber. It cloaks his nose and Jacaerys finds himself chastising his sights closed to intake every wave that graces him. When his eyes open again, he is greeted with an even more longing sight. There before him, this beautiful woman with her soft eyes and gentle appearance looks to him with concern and care. “How are you feeling, milord?” The title catches him off-guard but he does not let it cloud him. “Hm?” Too much… He blinks again to shake off his nerves. A smile twitches at her lips to his mild confusion, it can’t help but make him prideful. “How are you, milord?” She repeated, a twinkle in her eye. “Are you feeling any better?” 

“It is not their fault that they have created such beauty before me that I am struck by her.” His words flutter through the air like a butterfly’s wings and she is taken aback. She pauses and he watches, mesmerised by her. For a moment, he wonders whether she will answer, whether his words have scared her and he is instantly grateful that she cannot hear his beating thoughts. The rush that braces against his head. He swallows them down. An invisible thread of string pulls from his centre toward her and he cannot help the way he listens to it. His gentle hand rises to cup the side of his face. “That I find myself shivering at your touch–not the cold.” A shudder runs down the woman’s spine and she melts before him. She whispers to him in one mere word. “Oh.” And like that, Jacaerys feels his most sacred organ squeeze. He feels that invisible thread multiply and wrap around his heart and clench it. “If you are to pray to the Gods for my well-being…” Het rails, seduction thick on his tongue. “Then pray for the desire of my heart to quench itself.” Her hair rustles through his fingers in curls. Odd little waves that call for his attention. He follows them as though they crave it themselves. But the woman’s breath hitches and she stands abruptly, pretending as though she is not silently pleading for breath as it heavies. She clears her throat as she walks backward toward the door. His sights remain only on her. His hand stays still, holding nothing more than cold nothing. The barest of a linger. “Then, please, make yourself at home and rest, I shall return later with…with food.” She is gone without a trace. 

Without her, he had rested, but surely once she returned, the heat of embarrassment conquered his face and his body begged not to cringe away from her. Never had the case of flirtation struck his mind and yet once he is incapacitated, he does so. With false conviction. A sigh ripples past his lips and he stares down to the wooden floor while the woman hurries herself around the room with baskets of berries, fruits, herbs. Jacaerys cleared his throat and squeezed shut his eyes. “I apologise for my behaviour last eve.” He blurts before he can stop himself. Before the shame can grow any more great. He hears a distant hum, curious enough to call forth his sights. The woman looks entirely unbothered as she unloads the baskets. Her head tilts toward him, eyes catching his unsure stare. “I had not…I had not intended to cause discomfort or concern you.” He presses further, desperate to amend himself. But then her lips twitch upward and a chuckle escapes her. “You need not. It was quite amusing.” Her sweet voice echoes. He would be lying in untruth if he attempted to suede one into thinking his shoulders did not drop in relief. “I do not?” He breathes. Her smile grows and she shakes her head. Slowly his embarrassment softens. His own lips begin to quirk. “You do not even know my name–” “And you do not even know mine.” She returns, the quip light on her tongue. 

Slowly, her steps track closer to him rather than into the short kitchen. The bags are dropped onto the floor with an odd gentleness. “Then what should I call you?” He queries, leaning up on his hands. At this, she hesitates, but still she sits at his side and smiles at him. Her smile is warm, he notes. It is kind. It is welcoming him to her mere presence. “Perhaps I will tell you once you are well.” An inch apart, Jacaerys chuckles. His head dips down as a low rumbling sound was pulled from him as easily as a branch from a tree. Tough at first but surely. “Why must I wait?” He inquires, biting down on his lip. As the mysterious woman looks down at him, Jacaerys’ eyes glimmer. He looks…He looks sweet…Gentle…It had been a long while since she had seen such a face, she was sure. Not that she could possibly remember such a thing…Her face felt as though its lowering was entirely of the fates. As though the Gods themselves were pushing her forth. Were curling their fingers in her hair and pressing her closer. She clears her throat and longs to remember. She snaps her head backward and lets Jacaerys’ hope fall flat. Unhomed. A now-familiar pink flush washes up his neck. She smiles back at him sympathetically. “I am afraid that some things are better kept to oneself until they are certain.” And Jacaerys sighs. He supposed that that was right but it did not ease him. 

The woman then lifts herself from the bed and starts back toward the basket-cradled foods. Again, Jacaerys sighs but now tosses back his head in frustration. The last day that he had spent, before yesterday, without forcing a purpose had been far too long ago to comfort him. He tried to recall it now…Perhaps the day after teaching his brother Joffrey of The Seven. It had been dark and dreary that morn–so much so that he had taken ill. A smile pulls his lips at the memory of Lucerys tugging at his arm and pleading to finish a story from the night before. The boy had fallen asleep too early. His smile faded just as quickly. A grunt ripped from his mouth and his teeth clenched shut. Lucerys…Lucerys…Lucerys… Jacaerys’ breath hitches and his head whipped to the other side of his pillow. A wince overran his face as he fought away his brother’s face.  His brother’s voice. His brother’s mere name. He tries desperately to push it out, out, out. Just as he is about to rip away his hair (fingers tight in his curls despite no memory of reaching there)–The soft murmurings that he could remember as a voice are lulling him back. 

The voice is muffled but it was as clear to him as a siren and just as tempting. It sounds like a song…As if a sweet-voiced bard were calling for him. Still, his breath shrieks for release, still it sunk through his lungs and weighed hard but his body had calmed from its tension. Reluctantly, it pries open his eyes too. He peeks cautiously until only the mysterious woman’s face greets him. She says nothing as he softens. As he returns to the flesh of his body rather than the panic of his mind. She only smiles. She only welcomes him. A hand holds one of his own. “Would you like something to eat?” The woman asks, holding out a plate filled with bread. Jacaerys’ eyes flicker over the slices and try not to irritate his stomach at the sight of vibrant red, blue and purple spreads coating them. He licks his lips at the puffed oranges. He swallows in his dry mouth and nods. “Yes.” Jacaerys chokes out. She settles beside him once more and reaches for one of the thick-pasted breads. If she did indeed question why such a happening occurred, she did not bring it to his attention. 

Silence erupted between them with ease. It was almost startling how quickly he grew to miss the warmth of her touch in only a few spared moments. The curl of her finger in his hair, the gentle circle of his neck. He swallowed down the affectionately crafted food but let the sweet taste linger on his tongue. Beside the treacle flavoured bread, she had arranged a thick broth to join their taste buds. It was warm and satisfying as it slid down to his stomach. He found it odd how well common food could please him after so long in a life of luxury. It was nothing like the food in the South nor the North but it was not quite akin to the foods in which he would devour against the cold brush of war. The meals he spent only among his harrowed comrades. He winced but not at her food. At what he had missed, what he had lost, as he stared down at the honey coloured broth. It glimmered in the light of the sun. “Was he your friend?” The woman asked suddenly. Jacaerys’ eyes snapped up to her. “What?” Ripped out of his mouth. Her face was soft and gentle, almost beckoning the words out of his mouth. “...Luke. You say his name in your sleep.” Again, Jacaerys swallowed but this time not for the crave of her food. Her hand reaches for his but Jacaerys feels himself flinch. The woman stills. “You need not tell me,” She continued, quietly. Her lashes fluttered with a slowness that if he focussed on it, it would soothe his inability to breathe. “But I have heard that speech is a human’s most comforting solace.” This time when she reaches for him, his fingers nudge between hers. They interweave like thread.

Jacaerys gives himself a breath. A crisp, cold breath and then…”My brother, actually.” He whispered just short of air. An exhale. His chest is tight, it squeezes and whimpers and wrenches. “He was my brother.” She only nods, unwrapping him of his nerves with a mere circle of her fingers along his hand. The encouragement threatens the water in his eyes but one more time he swallows it down. “I killed him.” Pressure heavies the air. It pushes down on them with the weight of a boar. Yet, she retreats not. Not even when the dam breaks and his tight throat releases a choked gasp. Tears push themselves from his eyes and the crushing wave of his own guilt grasps his tender brain with a roughness he hadn’t known possible. “I was the one who told her we should be messengers! That it was our duty to protect her! I should have been protecting him.” Shock rocks through him when a soft hand pulls his face to her chest. As she clambers onto the bed and she clutches him close. The warmth of her draws his every instinct. It cries for him, begs for a skim of his flesh. “I should have been protecting him and instead I killed him.” The lump in his throat thickens and his tears refuse to stop. No matter how hard he begs them. His hair tousles in the woman’s soothing hands as he sobs. Jacaerys almost hopes that once her breath draws to his ear, she will sing her song again and the internal harrow will soothe just as the external had before but she did not. Instead, she presses a calming kiss to his temple. She lets him wail with her arms cocooning him. 

An hour wastes away in the sour afternoon but she does not leave him. She lets him lay and calm and finally when the tears stop, she strokes back his hair. Droplets of sweat pearl at his forehead like a circlet. A crown of purity and anguish. “I think you are beautiful and kind and you should understand how proud your brother would be of you for looking after your mother in his absence.” The woman whispers then presses another kiss to his face. “I will not be a moment.” She assures but a quiet whine breaks past Jacaerys’ lips and his hand paws at her like a frightened man of youth rather than a war-torn soldier. She supposes he is both as she slips away and descends back to the kitchen. The bowls and plates are scooped into her hands and sent to the thick bucket of now cold water. She glances behind herself to catch sight of Jacaerys. To her surprise, he is staring back at her softly; his face sits blank when their eyes lock but there is something gentle in his eyes. Something waiting for her call. “Can I help?” He asks quietly, akin to that of a wounded dog. Hesitation tenses her but surely, she nods. “Of course.” She answers. Her fingers dip into the cold water and flows them back and forth an invisible creek of her mind. The ridges of water rock over her hand before it finally warms. In time for Jacaerys to kneel at her the bucket’s side and take a plate from her. Their flesh brushes against one another and they still. They pause. They feel their breath hitch as one…before he rolls the plate into the water. 

The woman’s eyes track down to the smooth, white bowl in her hands and she grasps a wet cloth. Cleaning had not been something she enjoyed but now with the curious man beside her, there was an odd domesticity she enjoyed. “My name is Y/n.” She finally tells him in a wisp and it is as if the air has cooled. As if clarity has finally bitten through a frost and gentled their minds. Jacaerys, himself, halts. His eyes track to her and follow the curves of her face. “My name is Jacaerys.” He returns, holding his breath. There was only one who could wield such a name without insulting all that house the heritage of Old Valyria. One who could bear such a sacred name. But if she understands his secret, she speaks not of it. She smiles. Soft and sweetening the salt of his nerves. She nods. “It is honourable to make your acquaintance.” 

As Jacaerys nods and stirs lukewarm water atop porcelain (to which he does not have the curiosity to question from whence it originally came) to rid of it the jams and honeys this generously sweet woman had crafted for them to share, he lets her name sing in his mind. To rivet through the caverns and corners of his thoughts. All is still and all is gentle. All is kind. And all is their own. Two flesh familiar and yet such strangers. He decides then that he will not allow her to go unnoticed by his heart. That he will better his judgement until he can be worthy of her friend perhaps. Oh what a bittersweet title he desired as his own. 

Perhaps Jacaerys would not allow them to remain strangers for long at all. In fact he is certain of it as the distant sound of waves crashing echo in his ears and hope floats in the air. 

A/N: first of all, wtf my beloved @jacevelaryonswife??? this is a beautiful gif i adore it ♥♥♥ second of all thank you to all the lovely people that took the time to have a read through this and coached me through my concerning moodboard procrastination process ilysmm, @worms-on-a-single-string @pendragora @hopelesswritergall @officerbrowneyes thank you all for feeding my delusions. also, while reader's abilities are only hinted at for now, i swear they will become more relevant

General Taglist - @hopelesswritergall - @succnfuccubus - @madame-fear

HOTD Taglist; - @wrendermedone - @its-actually-minicika - @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly - @adelusionalwriter - @cookielovesbook-akie - @maximofftwinsbitch - @ughhthisbitch - @daenerysapologist - @savagemickey03

Jacaerys Taglist - @fairysluna - @jacevelaryonswife - @maximofftwinsbitch

[tiredfox64]

Well that’s new

Prior notes: My week has been rough I tell ya and I’ve been writing fanfics just to help myself calm down. Also sorry this is projecting :P. Quick edit: we raw dogging, not proofread so probably some errors.

Pairing: Rain(MK1) x Chubby! afab reader

Warnings ‼️: NSFW, nipple play, thigh fucking, fingering (just a bit)

Not many really knew if Rain has a type. He was always so focused on his studies, his only desire was be the High Mage of Outworld. He achieved that yet there was no signs that he would really go after anything else. Basically, everyone wondered if he would ever find a lady to spend his time with. Amara was especially curious as she wanted to know if her son would ever settle down. But that was never on his mind. He had to stay focused on being High Mage and looking good for Outworld.

That was until you walked in with the rest of the Earthrealmers.

You were not there to fight, more of like support and to help out just in case. You’ve helped out Liu Kang for a long time now. You basically started when he first got Johnny, Kenshi, Raiden, and Kung Lao together. And you have truly been a big help with making sure everyone was patched up and ready for whatever. But there was something about you that made Rain’s dislike for Earthrealmer go down just a bit. What was it? He’s not sure yet. He needs to test and experiment to find out.

Rain kept a close eye on you during the tournament. Your body was definitely different than all the other women he has seen in Outworld. You had a pudgy belly which he was surprised to realize it didn’t deter him. Though with that pudgy belly came so much more. Wide hips that looked so nice to grab. Thick, plush thighs that any man would be happy to lay his head on. And those breasts…oh wow. Something came over Rain which made his face heat up and he had to back away from everything. Never before did he ever wanna put his face between a nice pair of breasts before. Yours might be the only nice pair he has seen. So round and like they belong in his hands. Yup, I think he found out what he is attracted to.

Rain had no clue why all that was so attractive and in a way he didn’t really care anymore. Now he was curious on how you felt. It felt wrong. It felt like Rain was abandoning his realm for some girl. It’s not that serious, there are probably plenty of Outworlders who have messed with Earthrealmers, right? Well if Johnny keeps flirting with every girl he sees and is trying to get into Princess Kitana’s pants he doesn’t see why he can’t do the same. He will just be more respectful.

When he heard Empress Sindel make the announcement about the evening banquet he found that to be a perfect time to go up to you. When the time did come he was quick to find you. Immediately he introduced himself to you and only you. He basically ignored every other Earthrealmer that was with you. You were confused at first but wanted to be polite and introduced yourself.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said before he took your hand and kissed it. You’re already hooked.

Rain wasn’t a charmer or anything. He never flirts or chase women. He tried his hardest with you. All he had to do was listen to you and talk to you. What more could you ask for? You sat across from him at the banquet and almost forgot to eat just because you enjoyed talking to him. He actually enjoyed talking to you too. Finding out what your purpose was, what your life is like, and seeing your personality shine through. It made him feel less guilty for what he was planning to do.

Even when the night ended on a sour note with Shao’s little outburst that still didn’t stop Rain from pursuing you. When everyone was leaving he took you to the side and asked you to meet him in his chambers. He’ll sneak you in and you two can do you know what. You were pretty shocked and your cheeks started to burn you heard that. You’re not one for hook ups or one night stands but…ah screw it. You won’t ever return to Outworld after this. It can’t hurt to leave your mark somewhere. Plus, you did find Rain incredibly handsome and he managed to charm you which isn’t easy. So why not, you deserve to have some fun.

You did just that, being all sneaky just to get dicked down. How promiscuous. It wasn’t difficult for Rain to sneak you in. When he got you into his room he was immediately on you. His lips captured yours. He wasn’t rough but he was hungry for you. He brought you close to his body and had one of his arm wrap around your waist. His other hand went to grab a handful of your ass which made you flinch a little. Rain definitely likes the feel of your ass, giving it a nice squeeze. He doesn’t think he can wait any longer and neither can you.

You got a little nervous when he brought you closer to his bed. You don’t think he is stupid and can’t handle your body. Hell, you already suspect that’s why he was going after you. But you just can’t help but be a little concerned.

“Are you sure you wanna do this with me? I’m a little surprised you do.” You said

For a second Rain just stares at you and you almost think he is contemplating about actually having sex with you.

“Like I’d ever regret anything I do. I’m very certain about this.” He didn’t hesitate to start taking his clothes. Well you heard him, start stripping!

You took your clothes off slowly until you were only left in your bra and underwear. The way your bra held onto your breasts and the way your underwear hugged your hips drove Rain crazy. When he pulled you onto the bed his hands were already on you again. Hands grabbing at your thighs and ass while his face starts to nuzzle into your breasts. You’ve never seen a man so desperate to place his face right between there.

Rain already came to the conclusion that everything about you excites him yet calms in. His mind grows empty with the only knowledge being where his face is and where his hands are. This man was in a tranquil state and you could almost find it cute. That is until you feel something poking at your thigh. Somebody’s excited.

You decide to be a little brave and finally take your bra off. Rain pulled away from you and stared in awe. He was ready to grab at them. You also took off your underwear before lying down on his bed. When Rain saw how your breasts would jiggle slightly whenever you did anything made his eyes widen. It was necessary that he gets a feel of them. He basically pounced on you, his hands grabbing at your breasts and feeling their softness. His lips latched onto one of your nipples which his fingers started to play with the other one. He sucked on it, having his tongue slide over it and swirl around it. It made you shiver and caused a whimper to escape your lips.

The longer he did that the wetter you got. When his hand snuck down between your legs he was surprised at how wet it was. He even managed to slip his fingers inside of you easily, earning him a moan from you. Your breathing grew heavier and his fingers kept pumping into you. You are very ready for him.

His fingers slipped out and you were left empty. The feeling was replaced down there when you felt the tip of his cock going up and down your pussy. You felt it tap against your clit, exciting you even more. Once it was coated from your wetness you felt his cock being pushed into you, inch by inch.

Rain couldn’t hold himself back from groaning. You felt so warm. Your pussy kept squeezing his cock as you got used to it. He took it slow at first as he wanted to make it last. He would go until only his tip was inside of you before slowly thrusting back into you. It made your eyes roll back and you wanted to beg him for more. Luckily for you, this man wanted more as well. His hands went to the back of your thighs, pushing your legs back that your knees were near your head. This thrust became rougher and faster. Oh you were struggling to stay quiet.

Your hand went up to cover your mouth, muffling your moans but not silencing them. The angle Rain had you at made it feel like his cock was going deep. He was hitting that sweet spot to the point you were feeling it in your stomach. That pure ecstasy feeling that pulsated inside of you each time he thrusted in. And the view that Rain had was lovely. Watching as your breasts bounced a little and your belly jiggle was something he won’t ever forget. He found it adorable that you had to cover your mouth just to prevent anyone from hearing you two. Your mind was slipping away from you and your only focus was the cock that was being rammed into you. No thoughts about returning to Liu Kang, no concerns about how the other Earthrealmers are doing. Just how Rain was turning your brain into mush.

Rain got close to you again and pressed his body against yours. You could hear more clearly now the noises he was making. Low grunts and heavy breathing. They slowly turned into whimpers as you recognized he was getting close judging by the little twitching his cock did inside you. You can only hop that he last a little longer just so you can cum.

“Please…just a little more…keep going.” You begged him.

He just nodded as he focused on not cumming inside of you. That would just be foolish. Just a few…more…strokes…and-

If Rain wasn’t holding onto your thighs before you would have certainly wrapped them around his waist. Your head went back into the pillows as you used both hands to cover your mouth. Your moans were clear to him. He could feel your pussy pulsate around his cock, just proving more to him how good he made you feel. The feeling of cumming on his cock was way better than when you would just use your fingers. And although Rain would have loved to keep his cock inside your warm pussy he knew he was about to cum soon. He made the decision to pull out and take hold of your thighs again. He placed his cock right between your thighs, almost immediately cumming when he felt them surround it. He thrusted harsher in between your thighs before you heard a string of whimpers and something warm hitting your body. His cum splatted against your thighs, stomach, and even some got close to your breasts. It was a sight to behold. You and Rain were left breathing heavily and recovering from the orgasm you both experienced.

He was a gentleman and helped clean you up. He never would have imagined he would use his water magic to help clean cum off of someone but it was useful. Once he was done he went laid down beside you.

“Well, how was that?” Rain asked as if he didn’t know he just made you feel amazing.

“Do I even need to say anything?” You joked which did make him chuckle.

“If you liked it so much perhaps you should visit Outworld more often. I would be delighted to host you and show you around.”

“Imma have to beg Lord Liu Kang to allow me back. I don’t mind doing that if that means I get another experience with a man like you.”

So it’s set. You don’t care if you have to beg on your knees you will come back to Outworld. Rain is more than pleased to have you come back, finding you to be just the right woman he wants. As you both cuddle together, his face right between your breasts again as you both succumb to sleep, you had a lot to plan.

My advice? Being a few condoms with you. No, not a few, a lot. You’re gonna need to say safe and prepared on your multiple trips to Outworld.

After notes: I said I would do it and I did. This is my first time ever posting my work. I hope to make some people happy and like I said before this is kind of projecting but for my other works I’ll try not to do that. This man just needs some love and I am here to show it. Also this was originally a request I had for someone that I sent in but then I felt bad for doing it. So I guess if they ever do it well whoops I don’t need it no more. Anyways I might even post this on AO3 cause I don’t see much on there for him either. Adiós!

[lovelickyshen]

Sworn Nemesis

Akashi Seijurou x F!Reader

Part 1

Not proofread! May have grammar error since English is not my first language.

Academic rivals, fake dating, forced proximity troupe Akashi Seijurou. Slight slow burn!

The story may not be accurate to the manga/anime. Reader has her own story!

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You know you were one of a kind. You know you were gifted. Blessed by excellence. Always on the top. Growing up you were always first. In every single aspect. But why is it different now?

Ever since you moved to Rakuzan High, you've been stuck in second place. First assessment exam in spring? Second place. Mid-term examination? Second place. Summer exam? Second place. Mock exam before finals? Second place. Every test, always second place.

You don't understand. Why is this a reoccurring situation? Is this just a mere coincidence? You didn't pay any attention to this until your friend— Shiori pointed it out.

"You're always in second place." Your friend said when she was looking at your report card.

You titled your head. Confused so you snatched your report card from your friend and took a look into it. You compared it with your previous report cards. You didn't even bother to look at your position. You were just looking at your grades and sigh in relief.

"I'm pretty sure it's just a coincidence." You said. Then, you got curious. "Who's first?"

Shiori took a look around the classroom. She smiled, "Akashi Seijurou."

You nodded. Your eyes drifted to the certain red head. He was vigilantly taking down notes for his flashcards. The textbook and notes given by the teacher was displayed on his desk. It's study block and he's revising. Talk about being diligent.

"You know, he's always has been first place. It's impossible for him to drop. Perfect scores here and there... Blah blah blah." Your friend was babbling and your head drifted off elsewhere.

Your mind is thinking about how to defeat this Akashi guy. You felt sour, uneasy. Like your ego is crushed. You wanted first place now. There is no way you can accept second place in Rakuzan High— a prestigious high school where the best attends. How are you going to apply for a scholarship then? They're definitely seeing the 'second place' repeatly on your records.

You felt challenged. You were determined to win this game. After all, first place is amazing. You've always has been first. You wanted to take back your glory. That's your goal. To beat this Akashi guy. Well there's an upcoming biology test the next day. Who will win first place?

Your fingers fidget while your teacher returned your test paper. You flipped it over with your eyes closed.

Please... First place please...! These words repeated in your mind all day.

You opened your eyes. You saw the 59/60 on your paper. A 98%! Isn't that great? That's good enough to beat him! You smiled in satisfaction.

"100%!?" You heard a soft exclaim behind you.

You took a peek behind. A classmate was amazed by looking at the test paper. Akashi was beside him. He was slightly smiling, proud of his work.

You scoffed quietly and went back to look at your own paper. You sighed in dissatisfaction. Your friend who witnessed it asked, "You all right?"

"I can't believe it! He got a perfect score while I got a mark off. This is not fair!" You placed your paper down and put your hands on your cheeks.

"At least you got a 98%. I got a 75% and that's just a B!" Your friend said, showing you her paper. Her voice shows desperation.

"That's because you decided to not study." You chuckled.

"C'mon I thought it would be easy." Shiori pouted, looking down as she was not impressed by her score.

The day followed by a few more lessons until it was time for extracurriculars. The school was quiet— no more squeaks or the sound of the chalk rubbing against the black board.

During this time, you usually hold a daily study group with students who were struggling in the study room. It was a small group that consists of 4 or 5 people exclusively. However, today everyone could not make it and you were not informed until the last minute.

"Are you coming to the study group later?" You asked a classmate. She was already putting her books into her locker.

"Sorry, I couldn't make it. I have a family emergency." She apologizes and quickly ran off of the classroom.

You blinked and that was the last person that was supposed to attend the study group. You booked the rook for nothing. That was a waste of time.

You sighed and pulled out your phone to notify your chauffeur about the last minute changes. While waiting, you decided to take a short stroll around the school.

Initially, you wanted to visit Shiori at the student council office but you figured that she could be busy locking in on the paperwork and planning with the committee members. This is what happens when you're friends with the vice president.

In a distance, a tumult of shouting and screaming broke out. The sound of something repeatedly hitting the ground, swishes, whistles blowing, and boys shouting. You slowly approached the open doors, observing the clamor in the gymnasium.

Coach Shirogane was blowing the whistle, his voice rising while giving out his evaluation on the boys' performances. They all looked so focused, nodding at every word that Coach Shirogane stated.

"Interhigh is soon boys! I need all of you to work hard, you never know what would happen to the other teams."

As expected from Rakuzan's basketball team. Five years consistently winning Interhigh and Winter Cup proves that the school's basketball team strength.

At the bright atmosphere by the gym's door, you took a quick look at each of the players. You recognized one of them, the red headed boy across the room. He was unaware of your gaze locking at him until Coach Shirogane finishes his speech. He hesitated when he felt eyes in him. A mix of curiosity coursing in his veins, he caught your eyes.

Their eyes met, and for a second the world paused. His fierce crimson eyes mirrored a storm of unspoken words, while your eyes sparked with interest. As the moment lingered, a silent familiarity passed between them. Your breath quickened as your phone buzzes. You ended the eye contact, answering the phone.

You walked away from the gymnasium, speed walking to your classroom to grab your bag before returning home.

On a random Friday, your friend wanted you to deliver this set of documents to the student council room. Apparently Shiori to go somewhere but had a set of documents to submit to the president today. The 'going somewhere' is definitely attending another last minute company party. Knowing your friend, she could not remember her schedule that well (only the things she's not interested in). Well, she's a member of the student council why can't she just submitted it early you may ask? Well, she just finished it and printed it out before her chauffeur messaged her that he arrived to pick her up for the company party soon.

You can't really say no since you had no choice. You sighed and agreed. She beamed and passed you the set of documents. She quickly rushed to the main entrance to not keep her chauffeur waiting.

"I'll pay you back!" She shouted before sprinting off.

Here's the thing, the president of the student council is Akashi. He has been on your nerves lately, even though it was indirectly. You don't even know why. He didn't even do anything to you other than being the top every time, right?

You knocked the wooden door before entering. In the room, you see Akashi reading up some papers. You clear your throat before speaking up.

"Shiori wanted to give this to you. Don't worry. I did not take a peek." You said, trying to sound polite. You know the rules about the student council confidentiality.

He nodded as he receives the paper. "Thank you." He says.

You nodded and turned back to get out of this room. This is your first interaction with him since you attended this school. You never talk to him, not even a greeting.

As you were about to leave, you heard his annoying voice. Your back facing him while you were holding onto the doorknob. Slowly turning to face him.

"You're (Y/N) right?" He asked, while signing the documents.

"Yeah."

"Oh, okay." He nodded.

After that, you left the room.

Ever since that day, you keep seeing him around at school. You're entirely sure that he is stalking you since he asked for your name. It was like unlocking a new game character.

One time during recess, you were going to the bathroom and he was right behind you on the hallway. Another day was when you were going to the library. Boom, there he was studying. Today, you see him in the cafeteria with his friends.

You averted your eyes away from him. His presence annoys you! You hate him! His voice. His presence. Everything. You hated how he is everywhere and literally better than you in terms of academics. You could not find a way to beat him.

You also tried to find a way to avoid him but no avail.

Scratch that! Just focus on your grades. You don't need to dwell too much on this guy.

You saw your friend group. You smiled widely. Your friends lifted your mood instantly. Shiori immediately wrapped her arm around your waist, she wanted to yap her way to you about her day.

Across the cafeteria, his crimson eyes were on you. You were always surrounded by your friends. Smiling, laughing, playfully hitting each other as you were laughing at the jokes. Eyes filled with laughter.

He had always admire you. Your determination. Your nobleness. Your kindness. Your selflessness. Your integrity. You were humble. You're always there to help others. You never flaunt about your grades nor your privileges. You offered to tutor your classmates whenever they're struggling on a topic. You were a woman with dignity. An angel fallen from heaven.

Recently, he had a move. Asking your name. Then remembering your routine at school so he can see you anytime of the day. He made sure it's not all the time or else it would be suspicious.

He has a strange way to approach but it works. Now you noticed him.

For the next few weeks, you've been on next to neck with Akashi. On every tests given. Every closed book exercises. Even on the monthly quiz! You two were competing who would be the best of all. The finals is the decision maker.

You studied all day and night. Working your ass off every hour, minute, and second. You wanted to prove that you are indeed the champion. The winner. The conqueror of academics. That was your goal.

You were ready. The moment you sat down in your chair in the exam hall. You remembered every single formula, working, words, structures of the questions. You'd definitely aced the exam.

Wasting no time, you were writing non stop. One look at the question, you recognized the clues and connected the dots.

You exited the hall with a proud grin. You glanced at Shiori who was cheering that the finals are over.

"Let's go to Tokyo to celebrate. It's been a while since we went out together." Shiori mischievously grinned, wrapping her arms around yours.

On the weekends, you've been cafe hopping with Shiori. Shopping for clothes, cosmetics, skin care products, collectables, and your favourite celebrity's merchandise. Shiori was looking at her favourite K-pop group pop up sale, stacking her cart with the jacket, dolls, and photo cards.

A week after the finals, your homeroom teacher had passed out the report card. Feeling uneasy, you were hopeful that you win this game. Your chest tightening, the sound of your heart quickening.

You shut your eyes, hands gripping onto the report card. Slowly flipping it while opening one eye.

Eyes open wide. You felt blood rushing through your veins. Dopamine rushing in. You dropped the report card and excitedly turned to Shiori smiling.

"First!" You exclaimed.

Shiori clapped. This news has spread through your class. Your classmates heard the both of you and cornered you to ask questions.

"You got first place?"

"Congratulations!"

"This must be a miracle!"

After hearing the positive comments from your classmates, you never felt happier. This was just the first step to victory!

The next two years in Rakuzan was one of a hell drive for you. You spent 2 years being on another neck on neck with Akashi. Everyday at school was same. Seeing Akashi everywhere you go. Excelling on your academics. Placing first or second on every exams.

It doesn't matter, since you're graduating from Rakuzan with valedictorian. With Akashi, again. You don't give a shit anymore, because this will be the last time you will see him. You couldn't wait to not see his face!

You got a scholarship to study engineering in Cambridge University. You were excited but sad that you couldn't see Shiori anymore because she's studying law at Harvard University.

A few years has passed, you returned back to Japan. Breathing in nostalgia, lingering on your nostrils. The scent of sanitizers. Cool breezes from the AC. You graduated as the valedictorian again at Cambridge. One of your proudest moments in life. Years of putting in effort, new experiences, meeting people from all over the world.

Back in Cambridge, you actually got a paid internship, giving the opportunity to other talented students. You rejected because you planned to join your family business at home. Your family owns one of the best engineering services in the world. Whether it's buildings, roads, ships, cars, machineries, any sort of vehicles, even the planes used in the military.

When you joined your company, your family decided to make you start your career from scratch so that it would be fair for the other interns. It's a relief that you as a member of this family business is not public.

In the morning of your penthouse, the heat wave hit. Temperatures went soaring. The early morning sunlight gives away the rays of the day bringing warmth.

You put on your name tag. Slowly adjusting to look presentable. You gave yourself a twirl for an outfit check. A soft grinned on your lips. Amazed by how professional you look.

Closing the door of your penthouse as you walked towards the exit. The elevator brings you to the basement where you hopped on your car, driving off to the company.

Entering the large cooperation, a sense of unfamiliarity. The large room bustling with foot steps, the bell from the automatic sliding doors echoed. A pool of working adults passing through the revolving doors. A subtle, floral aroma wafted in the open space, calming and refreshing.

Walking pompously by the corridor, the noise from your heels reverberated, the radiant small smile on your head brightens the mood. Your co-workers greeted as you passed by each other.

You came to your office, sat on your soft chair. Laying back while closing your eyes. You took a breather before starting your work.

Let's just say that you are the Head Chief for the manufacturing company. You are in charge of the production, creation, assembling, testings, distribution, and so on. You insisted on handling them because you wanted to be the best.

Your secretary came with a tablet into the work shop where you were assembling the parts of an upcoming project. She called out your name and handed you the device.

"A representative from a client wants to talk to you in your office."

You arrived at your office. You vaguely saw a figure sitting in the sofa. You quickly grabbed a towel to wipe your hands dry. You turned to look at the client that was already waiting.

When your eyes met with the client, you froze.

"Akashi?"

[k-daydreams]

The Pursuit of Feeling Alive: III. Bratty Behavior

Pairing: fem!reader x azriel, platonic!innercircle

Synopsis: cousin to Rhysand and Morrigan, y/n was once her family’s golden child. Faced with trials and tribulations her whole life, she needed reprieve— a distraction. Until a surprise homecoming opens Pandora’s box, and gives y/n a reality check. Especially facing her once close friend Azriel. Friends to Enemies to lovers trope.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: swearing, trauma, reader being shitty, slow slow burn, mor and Cassian being readers moral sanity, filler chapter, grammatical errors lmao

Authors note: hellooo! So this is kinda a filler since what I was writing for this part was so long. Next part will really be juicy I promise! Thank you guys for so much love on the last part, I hope y’all will like this! Not a lot of Az has been in this part, mainly talking about him in 3rd person, but I promise hold on hope y’all get him in action in the next!! Lmk what you guys think

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

"Rhysand isn't impressed with Azriel," Mor declared, her knife slicing through a piece of meat. "To be honest, Y/n, I could genuinely throttle him." She took a bite of her food before continuing.

It was your first night back in Velaris, and the inner circle, along with the company, was aware of what had happened between Azriel and you. Well, at least what Cassian, Nesta, and Elain had witnessed. Rhys and Feyre hadn't approached you about it yet; Mor mentioned they wanted to spare you any further distress for the time being. Typically when one of the inner circle members had returned home from something, Rhys would have organized a celebratory family dinner, but he had decided against it for now. Instead, you and Mor dined alone in the House of Wind tonight.

Nonchalantly, you shrugged and took a sip from your wine glass. "Just another tantrum from that Illyrian man-child. Nothing new, really." You tried to sound relaxed, not wanting your friends and family to worry about you or the argument. You didn't want Azriel to know his words had cut you deeply or give him any satisfaction. You had already shown him just how much they had affected you. The impact was tangible—you had been restless, tossing and turning in bed for the past few nights, with no appetite to eat. Your homecoming was supposed to mark the beginning of your healing journey, yet here you were, starving and sleep-deprived due to the nonsense uttered by a man who thought he knew you.

Mor nodded knowingly, her napkin dabbing at her lips. "He had no right to speak to you like that," she said, her voice firm. "He knows that, no matter what, you're family. That's why we came back for you when Helion sent word. He knows we would do the same for any member of our family and to disregard you so quickly like that."

Disheartened, you let out a sigh. "I don't know, Mor. I knew we ended things on a sour note, but it's been nearly 60 years since then. I thought he would have moved on."

Her food momentarily forgotten, Mor nearly choked when you made that statement. "Please tell me you didn't just say that," she responded incredulously.

What do you mean?"

She stared at you intensely, her eyes burning into your soul as you went blank. "Seriously?" Perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "I've seen you hold grudges for centuries, and yet you expect him to forgive you for an argument that happened over half a century ago?"

Both of you fell silent, studying each other across the table. Mor's loyalty to Azriel, despite never reciprocating his feelings, was unwavering—just as yours had been in the past. At times, it made you question if her feelings for him were truly nonexistent, like now. A queasiness churned in your stomach, and your head throbbed with a dull ache. Perhaps drinking on an empty stomach hadn't been the best idea, especially when thoughts of Mor and Azriel intertwined.

You cleared your throat, a newfound coldness lacing your tone as you spoke up. "Every grudge I've held has been a result of something more severe than an argument," you stated, fidgeting with the table linen. "An argument, mind you, that happened because he didn't want me to follow Rhys."

Mor retorted sharply, "Look where that got you." Your heart started pounding, your ears heating. Your gaze dropped in her direction, and a familiar flame ignited within you. "What he did was fucked up, but Y/n, you can be a stubborn brat." You opened your mouth to object, but she raised a hand to stop you. "I'm not trying to be rude. I say this because I care about you. But it's time to own up to your mistakes. Only then, maybe, just maybe, you can find peace again."

Mor's tough love never felt good, but you knew it always came from a place of good intentions. Angry and devastated, you found it hard to accept hearing all that. Sure, you could be opinionated and stubborn at times, but reducing yourself to a brat felt unjust.

Draining your wine, you replied, "I had hoped for a civil conversation with him whenever we did talk." Mor looked skeptical, likely not fully believing you. You did have a record for the last century or so with picking arguments, you blamed being around Mor and Amren so much, and maybe a lot of repressed feelings.

Despite her irritation with you, Mor reached out and took your hand in hers, comforting you with gentle circles on the back of it, like a mother would. "When it comes to you, it seems his shadows turn to flames."

There was so much you wanted to say, but you remained silent, allowing her words to echo in your mind. You couldn't quite grasp their cryptic meaning, but you didn’t want to indulge in the topic too much longer. Mor let go of your hand, standing up. "Feel like grabbing a drink at Rita's?" she asked, her tone changing, a small smirk forming. A way to nurse your wounds.

Shaking your head, you replied, "Not tonight. I need to rest. Traveling today drained me. But thank you." You offered a tight-lipped smile.

"Sweet dreams, little star," Mor said, patting your head before walking away.

The once-dull headache now throbbed prominently in your forehead, and you cradled your head in discomfort. Mor’s conversation seemed to reflect the same argument you had a few days prior with Azriel. Though not filled with as malicious intent as his did, it still left you feeling just as scorned. The house cleared the table immaculately as you stood to make your way to your room.

The hallways were quiet and deserted, illuminated by the dim twinkle of faelights illuminating the red stone of the walls. Each light flickered slightly in your presence before dimming again, but you were too weary to care about such peculiarities of your powers. The House of Wind sprawled endlessly, a labyrinth of doors and spiraling stairs within the mountainside. A few new paintings and plants adorned the halls, likely additions from the High Lady and her sister, but it all remained as you remembered.

When you enter your room, a plate with an assortment of delectable cheese and crackers, accompanied by a tall, refreshing glass of water. Along with a small container of headache powder sat patiently on your bedside table. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you witnessed the house meticulously pulling back your sheets, reminiscent of the way it used to prepare your bed during your childhood days. Gently placing your night clothes at the foot of the bed, a smile of gratitude graced your face, silently expressing your appreciation to the house. It seemed that Rhys had been right about something you thought once you were in bed getting pulled into a restless sleep.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

You trudged begrudgingly through the halls of the endless mansion. Feyre had roused you from slumber earlier that morning, informing you of a meeting with the inner circle in an hour. Though you harbored little desire to attend, it was the first order by your new High Lady, making it a matter of importance. You hated how far your room was from the war room. Wishing you had wings, even better, you wished you had a room closer to one of the rooms you frequented the most. Finally almost out of breath, you made it to the entrance. You stalked into the room, you found Amren, Cassian, Lucien, Azriel, and Mor already settled in their seats.

"Tsk, tsk, fashionably late to your first meeting?" Cassian playfully jabbed at you. Walking past him, you discreetly flicked the back of his head, eliciting a muttered "brat" as he dramatically nursed the imaginary injury.

Your steps faltered for a moment, as that word—brat—pricked at your annoyance. Not letting it fester too much, you take a seat between Mor and Lucien. Sitting across from Cassian and Amren, with Azriel positioned diagonally next to his brother, you could feel his intense gaze fixed upon you. Determined not to shudder or shift under his scrutiny, you resolved not to let him see how deeply his words affected you. Deep down, however, you couldn't deny the lingering care you held for him, or the way his presence had consumed your thoughts over the past week like a plague.

"I don't see Feyre and Rhysand, so technically I'm not late," you declared, a smug tone coloring your words.

"Actually, they had other matters to attend to," Amren replied indifferently. It had been less than an hour since you last saw Feyre, leaving you puzzled as to what could have transpired in such a short span of time. Cassian nudged your foot under the table, a silent reminder of his earlier warning. Narrowing your eyes, you retaliated by kicking his shin, relishing in his sharp intake of breath as he winced. "Relax, Y/n!" he exclaimed, while you concealed your smirk, leaning back in your chair with crossed arms.

"Must you be so childish?" Azriel's voice snapped at you, catching you off guard.

Cassian stared at his brother in shock, attempting to defend your actions. “Brother I had started it-“

Beside him, the spymaster exhaled, regaining his composure. "I don't care who started it; I want to get through this as quickly as possible.” he requested, his tone cold.

"Yes, please," you muttered under your breath. The shadowsinger shot you a look.

Though you sensed he had more to say, Amren began speaking before another argument could erupt, cutting straight to the point. "We haven't visited the Court of Nightmares in quite some time. It's about time we made an appearance; I'm sure they're on the brink of chaos by now."

Mor sucked in her teeth, and you could hear Lucien gulp audibly, clearly apprehensive at the thought. You bit your lip anxiously.

"I won't be able to attend. Rhysand, specifically Feyre, has requested that you, Y/n, take the reins tonight," Amren announced, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. She seemed unfazed by the prospect of missing out on the formal affair. Uncertainty flickered across the faces of those from the inner circle, unsure of how you would receive the order, except for Azriel, whose expression remained inscrutable.

You fidgeted with your fingers, picking at the hangnails. Before Amarantha, you had taken pleasure in Rhys entrusting you with these meetings, where you handled official business between the Court of Dreams and Nightmares. It had been empowering to witness your family obeying your orders, having spent so long following theirs, only to be shunned upon your return in the aftermath of one of the darkest days of your life. Your parents were ready to condemn you for treason when they first laid eyes on you. That’s when Rhys had appointed you as an emissary. Primarily since you had spent the most time in the court knowing the ins and outs, and as a sick punishment for your family.

Now, anxiety gripped you as memories you had desperately tried to suppress from your childhood. Those memories now attached with the new ones you sought to repress from your encounter with Amarantha. It became increasingly difficult to focus on Amren's words as your gaze wandered blankly through the expansive window behind her, stretching from the floor to the ceiling.

"Azriel will be right beside you for protection throughout the night, Cassian will accompany Mor, with Lucien joining them," Amren continued, a hint of wariness in her words.

"Why-why can't Cass be by my side?" you stammered. "He's a general for a reason." You had an inkling to why Azriel had always been at your side when you’d be in charge of this responsibility, but you also wanted him nowhere near you. Didn’t anyone else think that him and you together was an awful idea at the moment?

"Because Azriel has a more intimidating effect on your family," Amren replied, looking knowingly at him. Azriel remained stoic, mirroring your own defensive posture—scarred muscular arms crossed, leaning back in his chair, stil as a statue. "As I said, it's been some time since we made an appearance. Who knows what they might do? We can't risk any harm coming to the Princess on her first days back at court," she added mockingly. Rolling your eyes, you fought the urge to offer her a vulgar gesture. For that remark alone, she could certainly go to hell.

"Cassian will come to fetch you later, so you can all gather at the townhouse and winnow together," Amren concluded nonchalantly. "Now, I need to speak with Mor and Cassian privately. You three are dismissed; I'm sure Azriel and Y/n are just itching to throw themselves off the dining room veranda by now." She said to you, Lucien, and Azriel. She was right about one thing, you thought to yourself, your chair scraping against the floor as you stood, eager to escape the war room as quickly as possible.

You closed the door to your room, and fell into your bed screaming into the mattress. You were frustrated, overwhelmed, and exhausted from lack of sleep. A small commotion on your nightstand made you jump, looking up, a medium box now laid on the stand. An envelope attached to a deep purple ribbon wrapped around the gift. You sat up, and grabbed it, opening the paper.

‘Give them hell tonight, you've earned it little star. -R&F’

Inside the box was a diadem of silver, stars of different shapes hung all adorning the chain encrusted in emeralds, diamonds of different hues, and sapphires for you to wear tonight. You sighed, a new feeling slithering through your veins. Maybe this was Rhysand’s way of giving you therapy. You all played a game and made a show down in the court of nightmares that the inner circle all got a kick out of at one point or another. Maybe playing the act was what you needed? You had let your mental shield down, letting your thoughts empty to nothing, hoping Rhys would be paying attention.

You planned this intentionally? You thought once your mind was blank.

Me? What would make you think so? Rhys purred in your mind.

You rolled your eyes. Mhm, you two just had to conveniently leave all of a sudden?

That’s a matter for tomorrow, just try not to torture someone to death tonight, especially not our spymaster. He taunted.

Your spymaster, no promises. You clarified.

Have fun, little star. You could feel him poking at your mind to signal he was no longer there.

You threw your shield up, and laid back on your bed. Tonight was going to be interesting.

･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

You fixed your lip shine in the mirror, finishing the final touches to your look before a rhythmic knock on your ajar door sounded.

“You ready?” Cassian peaked before walking into the room.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He let out a low whistle as he examined you. “Your family’s not gonna like that.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” You smirked despite a brief heat rising to your cheeks.

The gown you chose was something you had saved for a trip specifically for the court of nightmares before you had been trapped under the mountain. The bodice had long sleeves and was skin tight, black crystal branches wrapping up your arms, and up your waist with thicker branches covering your chest. The skirt billowed with several layers of gossamer, much like the gown you wore in the day court just several days prior, but had slits dangerously high risking a reveal of your hip bones unlike the other gown. You wore the highest heels you had in your closet that were sure to make you grumpy just by standing in them for more than a couple minutes— exactly why you chose them. Then the diadem that Rhys and Feyre gifted you graced the top of your head and shimmered in the faelight of your room that flickered in your wake, when you felt the satisfaction from Cass’s comment.

He clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. “I don’t think I even like that.” Then he noticed the slits in the fabric. Rubbing a hand over his face in disbelief. “Mother of the cauldron Y/n, are you even wearing anything under that dress?” He made a face which made you laugh out loud.

“Pig, no need to worry about that!” You slapped his arm lightly before looping yours through it.

“You’re right I don’t want to know.” He shook his head. Cassian was always your comedic relief from your worries, and you were thankful that hadn’t changed. “Could you let Nesta borrow it?” He suggested cheekily.

You groaned disgustedly, “then I would have to burn it afterwards.”

“Good, I don’t want to see you in this gown again after tonight.”

“You’re not my father.” You teased as you two walked out to the balcony.

“Yeah but in my head you’ll always be like my little sister, no matter how much of a brat you are.” He nudged you.

“I hate that word,” you admitted, preparing yourself for flight.

He picked you up bridal style as if you weighed nothing in his arms. You adjusted the fabric so it wouldn’t fly up mid flight. “You know it’s true.” He said, his wings rustling, preparing himself.

You gave him a pointed look, “I’m considering it’s true.” Providing a pinch to his bicep. Without warning he took off into the night sky of Velaris, teasingly loosening his grip on you like he was going to drop you.

“If you keep hurting me, I’ll have to sic my mate on you.” A mischievous glint in his eyes.

“She probably knows you deserve it.” You watched the city below light up under the starry sky.

“Touché,” he smiled. He looked in thought as a silence fell over you two letting you admire Velaris below. You hadn’t had a chance to explore the city since your return, today would’ve been the day if it weren’t for the meeting in the court of nightmares. You could see the rainbow quarters perfectly from above and hear the music in the distance. The stars and moon were close to you as well, the music and being so close the light brought solace to any nerves you may have had. It prickled softly at your skin, seeping into your skin.

“I could guess one person who’ll be excited to see you.” Cassian broke the momentary silence.

“Don’t say his name,” you begged, seeing the angle he was trying to pull.

“Who, Azriel?” He grinned broadly.

“My peace is ruined,” you deadpanned, him chuckling at your disdain.

“Don’t let him being an asshole deter you. He’s been all bent out of shape since your absence. I think he’s just hurt deep down, and those little shadows that are always in his ear when you're around doesn’t help.”

You listened to Cassian ramble, confusion filling you. “You haven’t heard everything he's said to me.”

He relaxed a bit, soaring lower, the familiar townhouse now in your view. “I haven’t heard everything you've said to him either, and I don’t think it’s my business or my right to say anything on the matter given my record. Sometimes you say shit in the heat of the moment, sometimes you say shit to hide what’s actually going on underneath it all. One thing I know whenever it comes to you he’s always all up in arms. Not even Elain can do that to him. I didn’t even see him like that with Mor besides that one time.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, getting ready to land. You gripped his neck tighter, bracing yourself.

“When you’re not annoying, you’re actually wise y’know that?” You were in awe at his words. You weren’t sure how true his interpretation was, but for now it brought you slight comfort and ease about the Azriel situation. He landed with his wings slightly fluttering about, shaking off the wind of the night. He gently set you down, and you tried adjusting yourself now that you were standing. You went to fix the diadem, but Cass pushed your hand away lightly, doing it for you.

“I would hope so, year 600 is creeping up on me fast.”

You laughed softly, “you're about to be an old man.”

“Yeah let’s not talk about that, we’re talking about you remember?” He fixed a loose piece of hair that was out of place. “Try not to let him get to you too much tonight or at least channel it into you being all scary and brooding. I’ve missed you in court, it hasn't been the same.”

“Thank you Cass, and I’m sorry for not visiting.” You said sincerely.

Pulling you into his arms for an embrace, he sighed. “I figured you needed space. There’s nothing wrong with that. Rhys went to the cabin after he came out from under there. You just went to the day court for almost a decade long sabbatical.” He shrugged casually. “You can repay me by training again once you’re settled.” You nodded, pulling away. He wrapped his arm around you, “C’mon we have a party to get to.”

Lucien, Morrigan, and Azriel waited for you two. Azriel was the first to look up at the sound of your heels clicking on floor into the foyer of the townhouse. His hazel eyes darkened, eyebrows slightly narrowing, and jaw clenched at the sight of you. Your heart skipped a beat as his eyes traced your body, lingering at the top of the slits of the gown that could expose your hip bones at any sudden movement, before taking in your bare legs that were accentuated by the uncomfortable heels. You felt a warmth in your core that betrayed any ill feelings towards the spymaster, and you had to take a deep breath to calm yourself. You never knew a look would be able to enthrall you so much and ignite such feelings.

He was in his more formal fighting leathers, muscles at full display even underneath the leather, his hair neatly styled back, sciphons glowing under the light of the common room. He was god-like, you couldn’t deny that. Not rugged looking like Cassian or as regal as Rhys, but he was beautiful. You wanted to be sick at thinking these thoughts. His shadows whispered in his ears as he stared at you. You couldn’t discern the look in his eyes as Mor approached you.

“Oh my, my fathers gonna croak, I love it!” She squealed looking at the patterns on your dress. “But we do have to get going, Y/n winnow Cass?” She looked at the male beside you.

You were about to agree, but Azriel spoke up. “I think I should be with her. Just in case. Amren said they’re possibly at a brink of chaos.” His voice was gravelly, and your heart pounded erratically at the huskiness in his tone.

“O-okay? Cassian, let’s come on then.” She looked at you, your eyes were wide in surprise.

Azriel approached you, and his scent of cedar and mist filled your senses making you want to melt even more. You only cleared your throat, straightening your back as his scarred arm reached around you pulling you closer to him as you got ready to winnow. You could feel the rough pad of his thumb near the top of the slit of your dress making your mind blank. His shadows swirled around your wrists in greeting for the first time since you’ve seen him, and you could feel your cheeks heat up.

Mor and Cassian disappeared along with Lucien right behind them. Azriel’s body heat and movement of his hand on your hip was making you flushed, unable to concentrate. Then his lips were close to your ear and you could feel his cool breath on your neck.

“Whatever happens tonight, don’t take it to heart.” The grip on your hip had tightened, and you could feel the sheath of truth-teller in your lower back.

You looked up to him, even wearing your tallest heels he had towered over you, observing the deadly calm on his face. Your gaze lingered on his lips for a second before flirting back to his intense hazel orbs.

You said barely above a whisper, scared your voice would betray your words. “You forget I’m great at this game, shadowsinger.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

[x] previous chapter [x] next chapter

Aaaaand we’re off to the races besties!! I had so much fun writing this part! I hope you’re excited as I am for the next one!!

Taglist: @tcris2020 @rachelnicolee @thelov3lybookworm @bubybubsters @mich0731 @t0uch-starved-h0e @penguins-are-the-best @justagingerliving @brekkershadowsinger @jiinmii

If I missed any of you just lmk!

[petermorwood]

I first read this book when I was about ten years old - a senior cousin's copy - and finding a scan on the Comic Book Plus website let me refresh memories long ago consigned to the furthest recesses of the Mind Palace (or in my case, Untidy Mind Attic).

Its stories are fairly typical Ripping Yarns, but I'd forgotten just how Keen On Sport "The Champion" was. The title alone should have warned me, because there are six annuals on the website, all full of Hearty, Keen and Sporty goings-on.

I've posted more than once that Organised Sport was at the bottom of any list of Things I Liked To Do. In particular I detested the compulsory variety inflicted at Big School, which started happening when I was about eleven and made recollections of Jim's jolly-good-stuff annual increasingly sour.

A lot of the stories are pure sport, but several others have their sporting angle jammed into action-adventure yarns of completely non-sport-related genres, often with all the subtlety of a square peg put into a round hole with a sledgehammer.

For instance, "Rockfist Rogan of the RAF", hero of World War Two air-combat stories, was better known in his story universe as a boxer than as a fighter pilot.

Despite this, illustrations of aircraft were spot-on - as here, a Mosquito FB Mk VI with Dornier Do.217s overhead and a nosed-over Typhoon Ib in the background, or Spitfire Mk IXs defending B-24 Liberators against Messerschmitt Me.163 rocket fighters (though from the text description they should have been Me.262 jets. Oh well.)

If readers of "The Champion" were anything like readers of the war comics I used to read, the editor would have got a lot of disapproving letters if those illustrations weren't accurate. I might have sent one myself about the Messerschmitt error.

At least I might have done if I'd been of letter-writing age, rather than not yet born...

The Rogan stories aren't the only example of Sport In Unexpected Places. There's "Cap' Dan, the Sporting Pirate" (snrk), "The Racing Rajah", "The Sporting Mountie", "Johnny Fleetfoot the Redskin Winger" (rolleyes) and "Kog's Amazon Marathon", which reads like "Apocalypto" remade with a cast of Keen and Sporty English schoolboys.

And, thanks to how language and attitudes have changed, one story nearly sent a spray of tea across my monitor.

I don't think either the title or the plot would work very well today...

:->