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thebluester2020 · 1 month ago

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[GI] Kinktober Day 10: "Exhibitionism"

Summary: After your stunt with Tartaglia, you are forced to deal with the repercussions of Capitano's not-so-well-hidden jealousy.

Warning(s): Reader is fucked in front of an audience, Dub-Con, Degradation, (Probably a whole slew of other warnings that I can’t think of rn).

Side Note(s): Okay so—I switched it up last minute to exhibitionism because I realized that I get confused easily between that and voyeurism (+ I have more of a love for exhibitionism anyway).

Also, this is kinda an unofficial pt. 2 to the "Sharing" fic I posted? I mostly kept to the same "storyline"(?) because it was easier on the brain for me.

Your relationship with Capitano has been in a...weird spot, to the least, ever since that day between yourself, Tartaglia, and Capitano.

At the end of it all, the men didn't even get what they had originally wanted. You were far too fucked-dumb to even decipher who was who, much less come up with enough letters capable of yelling out a name. But, for the sake of being tired himself, Tartaglia had admitted "defeat" and carried on his merry way! Eventually, he left Capitano's war band and continued on his own personal mission, leaving you behind and working for Capitano permanently like you were originally supposed to.

But it's been awkward.

Capitano was curt with you, only speaking to you when he needed to. If you were caught taking a moment to relax, you began to pray that Capitano wouldn't happen upon you, he'd only immediately order you to get back to work!

No longer did he greet you warmly and no longer did he seem to care about your well-being. When the entire war party moved, he no longer expected you to be by his side, nor did he constantly check to see if you were! You could've been at the very back of the party and he wouldn't have given a single damn.

You had a mind to call your boss out on his behavior, pull him aside, and ask what the issue was and...whether or not there was still something between you both.

Although, you already had a mind to think that any feelings that may have started to blossom had long since been crushed underneath heel and foot.

Until today that is, when you were in your tent and finishing up some reports.

. . .

You quickly rose to your feet when Capitano suddenly entered your tent, bowing your head as you murmured a respectful 'Lord Capitano' in greeting.

He responded with a gruff noise of acknowledgment. "There will be a feast held tonight," Capitano said.

Your brow cocked, a feast? You hadn't heard anything relating to a feast at all. "Our efforts and missions have been going smoothly, I figured it's overdue to reward everyone in this camp. Even you." You bit the inside of your cheek at the cold way he addressed you. Had you known that accepting Tartaglia's offer—that rogue ginger-headed charmer—would lead to such an awkward tension between you and Capitano, you would've never allowed Tartaglia to trick you!

"...That's...that's kind of you." You said before sighing.

He nodded his head before turning to leave, prompting you to quickly stop him. "M-My Lord," You started off. "About that day...are you still—"

"I'll be taking my leave,"

"Lord Capitano!" You said more firmly this time, walking around your desk and beginning to close the distance between the two of you. "You can't continue to avoid me, n-not to mention treat me as I—" You stopped in your tracks when the first harbinger turned his head to look at you. And although you couldn't see his eyes, nor his expression behind that dark mask...the danger that oozed off of him. It made you audibly gulp as you took a few steps back.

You bowed your head in silent apology. "...You will come to my tent before the feast officially begins." Then, he walked out. A cold bead of sweat dripped down your neck at the vague order. Either it would be nothing aside from more work, Capitano deciding to kill you, or...hopefully, he'd finally get over his attitude and talk to you.

You couldn't stand how things were at the moment.

So, when the time finally arrived and the feast was ten minutes away from the beginning. You found yourself in Capitano's tent, your hands resting neatly in front of you as you stood at the entrance of his lavish tent. "My Lord, the feast will begin soon." You gently reminded him. "Shall I alert the soldiers of anything before it begins?" You continued.

You didn't receive a response until Capitano emerged from the covered part of his tent, adorned in the usual attire he wore when he appeared during important Fatui functions or battles. "No," He answered. "Simply follow me." Your brow rose as he walked past you, but nonetheless, you dutifully followed after him outside and back into the steadily warming air thanks to the bonfire that had just been set up.

As the soldiers began to gather, however, Capitano clearing his throat before he broke out into an, admittedly, very admirable speech as he thanked and showed gratitude towards his soldiers. Certain things started to stand out to you as your eyes washed over the crowd. Such as...the doctors and nurses of the camp weren't present, surely they deserved some praise and appreciation too? Too many times have soldiers or even your boss himself had come into the camp injured from head to toe! They'd quickly patch them up and almost seem to perform magic, you've heard soldiers state that one doctor in particular was good at numbing the pain!

There were none of the cooks, blacksmiths or even the younger soldiers that were fresh into the party, tasked to simply stand aside and watch.

All this boiled down to this "feast" being composed of nothing more than the more experienced soldiers, simply leaving you with a number ranging around the hundreds.

As pieces started to merge together although...a heavy hand placed itself on your shoulder, and then, you tuned back into the conversation. "...You will all bear witness as to my secretary learning who she truly belongs to, hopefully with an audience, she will learn not to be so easy for others."

What had just happened?

. . .

"Apologize." Capitano gruffly ordered you as the loud sound of your squelching cunt echoed through the camp. Not even the whistling winds could muffle your desperate panting as Capitano fingered your soaked cunt, taking special care to not knick you with his claws. "Apologize for being such a desperate whore..." He hissed out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "...for being so easy to fuck, not even having the courtesy to quiet yourself down despite being in a camp full of my soldiers."

Your cheeks burned with shame as you could feel hundreds of eyes on you. You didn't know whether you wanted the soldiers to be disgusted at the sight and turn away or if...you preferred this in a sick way, although there were some women amongst the crowd, the heavy sound of panting amongst the men made you clench around nothing, your slick beginning to drip and run down from your cunt and onto Capitano's lap.

Something that the ever-vigilant Captain didn't miss.

"You shameless whore." He snarled in your ear, your body shuddering at the feeling of his sharp teeth grazing the skin on your ear. "You're getting even wetter at being watched?" The harbinger nearly had a mind to laugh at how your legs twitched, as if you wanted to curl into yourself at his cruel words. He almost allowed himself to feel bad, until he smelled how your arousal grew at his words.

Oh...so you liked this.

Well...that explained everything.

Slowly, he took his fingers away from your cunt, a string of arousal still connecting him to you as he brought them up to his face. "So that's why you fucked my fellow harbinger." He sneered, opening and closing his index and middle finger, playing with your slick.

"H-Huh?" You moaned, both in disappointment and confusion. Despite the cold, your body burned with desire, one that grew more potent by the passing second as you felt Capitano's obvious hard-on behind you. You were grateful for your tears blurring your vision, for as Capitano continued to let you sit in his lap exposed to his soldiers, you at least could fool yourself into thinking that no one was paying attention.

But only for so long.

A scream tore from you as the Captain's fingers returned to your sex, his fingers dipping into your pussy before they had quickly found your g-spot whilst his other hand wrapped around your torso to begin flicking rapidly at your clit. All the air in your lungs were nearly knocked out of you at the rate of how quickly you were approaching your climax, your hands fruitlessly clawing at Capitano's forearms as drool started to dribble from the side of your mouth, your eyes starting to roll into the back of your skull.

"C-Captain..." You moaned. "O-Oh Archons...!" You keened.

He didn't relent. "Take it," He ordered as if he were ordering a soldier. "Considering you've taken me and Tartaglia at the same time...you should be used to the pleasure." He chuckled gruffly.

He tightened his hold on you as you squirmed. "Slut," He spat. "Quit squirming."

It was only when Capitano suddenly bit down on your shoulder were you pushed off the edge, your mouth falling open in a silent scream as your body stilled and your vision turned completely white. For a long while, you drifted on that cloud of sheer bliss...until you were brought back down by the feeling of something hard slapping against your cunt, snapping you back to reality before you were face to face with the harbinger's cock.

Starting off at a lighter color at the base before turning into a dark purple towards the middle and upwards at the tip. You shuddered when you remembered that Capitano's cock was inside of you...not even a whole two weeks prior! The ridges along his dick were intimidating, especially with the way it twitched and oozed pre-cum.

You gasped when he parted your cunt wider with his fingers. "If you won't apologize with your mouth..." He started off before he lifted you a little, as easily as he would carry a sack of flour before the tip of his cock pressed against your opening. "...Maybe you'll be more apologetic with your pussy."

. . .

Capitano didn't waste any time to wrap a hand around your mouth, although, the sheer size of his hand nearly engulfed your entire face. As he pressed you impossibly closer to him, he made sure to get really close to your ear as he spoke to you. "Make sure to look my soldiers in the eye as you apologize to me with this cunt of yours." He said before he slowly pushed himself into you.

Immediately, you broke his command, your eyes threatening to roll into the back of your head. Something that Capitano quickly corrected with his free hand slapping the side of your thigh. "Look at them." He reminded you. As more of his dick sunk into you, your eyes blurry and struggling to focus as you looked at the soldiers before you. You accidentally made eye contact with one of them, all before...your eyes glimpsed at his noticeably hard cock.

In fact, you noticed how all of them were hard.

Your cunt clenched tighter around your boss' dick at that realization. "Fuck—" He whispered. "You must've noticed, hm? How they all yearn to fuck you? My secretary." He continued.

When your pussy twitched at his words, he lightly pinched your side in punishment. "Greedy pussy...still eager to take more cock despite having me inside of you?" A muffled yelp resounded against the harbinger's hand when the rest of the Captain's dick was suddenly pushed into you. More moans followed suit as his fat tip began to poke and prod at your sweet spot, deep inside of you. "Don't worry, I'll curb your greediness soon." He whispered, the sheer possessiveness in his deep voice making goosebumps pop up all over your skin and down your spine.

More than you cared to realize, you loved when your boss was possessive over you. And that love only grew more when he started to move, his balls slapping against your skin as he took up a brutal pace almost immediately. You tried your best to keep your moans quiet when he suddenly released his grip over your mouth for it to take up stationing itself on your waist, aiding in pulling you down faster and harder against his pelvis. But it was so fucking hard to be quiet when he was fucking you like he was afraid of loosing you. As if you'd be gone the second this was all done.

"C-Captain..." You groaned. "F-Feels so good...!" You continued to cry out, blissful tears running down your face as you lost yourself in the feeling of his cock. Delicious sparks ran up and down your spine at the feeling of the ridges alongside his cock rubbing against your walls, your arms coming to loop themselves around the back of the Captain's neck as his groans started to become more and more audible.

His cock was touching all the right spots inside of you, making you see stars behind your eyes. "Fuck—" He snarled. "Archons...your cunt is squeezing me so tightly." He groaned, his head coming to bury itself in the crook of your head before he whispered more words you were too cock-drunk to decipher. You whined when he sped up the pace of his thrusts against you, your cock-drunk babbles turning from moaning to pleading for him to go easier on you, much to the harbinger's amusement. "Too much?" He mocked, faking sympathy as he fucked you harder in turn. "That's too bad. You wanted this, so you're going to fucking take it." He growled.

He was suffocating you in the best way possible as each time his cock slid into you, it practically punched the air from your lungs, the scent of sex in the air making it feel like it was hard to breathe. But you loved it. You assume that's why your second orgasm snuck upon you so suddenly, the presence of people watching your boss fuck you silly on his lap...the degrading words he whispered into your ear in combination to the pleasure. It was all making your mind spin. "You're fucking tightening up on me..." Capitano grit his teeth together, his claws beginning to dig into your skin.

"Gonna cum?" He asked before he kissed the side of your neck, lightly nipping it as he felt his orgasm begin to approach as well. "Cum all over my cock then." He cooed, the feeling of his twitching dick battering against your cervix making you let out a few more strangled moans before you froze again him with a loud cry.

"Fuck...fuckfuckfuckfuck." He groaned, fucking you through your orgasm for a few more thrusts until he stilled against your still twitching pussy with a loud hiss of his own. You moaned softly as you struggled to come down from being dicked down, a dopey grin plastering itself onto your face as you looked behind you with both a happy expression and a shy one.

The harbinger, although dazed and hidden behind his mask, smirked confidently, the way he moved to run his fingers through your hair shockingly gentle.

He doubted you would want to go and find someone else to fuck after tonight.

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kushnovice · 3 months ago

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Be Mine Again

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x ex! reader

Synopsis: Reader and Bucky have been broken up for a short time, fighting often and rarely seeing eye to eye. Bucky starts to fall into a bad mental space while a mission goes wrong.

wc: 2.8k

Warnings: fighting of all kinds, bucky being depressed and cold, angsty at the beginning, blood, choking, Zola being sadistic, not the best. if i made any mistakes please lmk :)

AN: Female reader, angst with little comfort (yet), lots of mistakes, self indulgent, it sucks but i had fun making it so i hope some people enjoy it. if so I'll write a part 2

"I broke my rules for you! I bended my morals for you, again! I had to change everything I believe in, yet again!" She yelled out at the tall and broad man in front of her as his hand tightened against his glass of ice water, jaw clenching.

The kitchen of the Avengers Tower was very cold and filled with tense air, thick enough to cut with a knife. Bucky deeply groaned as he placed his glass onto the table with a loud thud, "I never asked you to do that. I never asked you to care about me, you did that all yourself." Bucky's hand ran up into his hair showing how stressed out he is at the moment, he had never been one to enjoy fighting, actually he hated it. Almost as much as he hated her."Don't you care about me? About us?" She questioned with a huff as her arms swung to her hips. "Truth is," Bucky stood up, slowly walking toward her with each word, "I'm tired. So fucking tired of you that you always have been nothing more than an obligation." Bucky's lip raised in a scowl. The hurt was written on her face but immediately gone as she grumbled and pushed Bucky back by the chest. "I'm done helping you." She sucked in a breath, "Did it ever occur to you that your hurting me or are you just that selfish and arrogant?"

Before she could react, his glass that was once on the table was now shattering against the wall on the far side of the room as he stormed off quickly, slamming the door shut in the process. Bucky made his way through the winding hallways with his fists clenched tightly to the point his knuckles were white. He couldn't stand when she would act like this, after everything they had been through together, she had promised she would stay no matter what. She was always just like the others, except Bucky couldn't get her out of his mind.

Bucky swings open Steve's door and slams it behind him as he paces back and forth through Steve's room. Steve sighed as he placed his book to the side on his bed and looked at Bucky. "What happened this time?" Bucky groaned deeply, "I told her about the mission we are going on later this week and she flipped out on me." He grabbed a workout dumbbell off the ground and started to work out his human arm by doing bicep curls. "She keeps telling me that she can't deal with me trying to track down and kill every single person that was ever or is currently apart of Hydra, that this mission we are going on is a trap." His breath becomes uneven as says breathy words under his tongue as his annoyed attitude has not faltered in the slightest. Steve rolled his eyes at the drama going on between the not so couple right now. "You do realize that she's scared of losing you, especially more since she's already lost you as a partner." Steve sighed deeply, being the person that both of them had come to confide in about their problems. "And with the Hydra thing, it's tricky because I know you want to move past it, and it was such a hard time of your life but there are better ways to grow past it, Buck." Steve talked softly as his kind blue eyes pierced through Bucky, hoping he would accept his words of advice but seeing how Bucky was instantly throwing the weight around as if it weighed nothing due to his anger, Steve knew Bucky wasn't truly hearing him.

Bucky dropped the weight at Steve's words, "Better ways, huh. there're better ways for everything but does that mean it's always achievable? No." Bucky looked at Steve almost desperately, "I don't want to lose her but if I don't do this, I feel like I might lose myself." Bucky sighed as he looked at the weight on the ground before picking it back up again. "What's rule number 3, Buck?" Steve asks knowing how Bucky's rage and trauma is having a profound impact on his own mental health. "What would they think about you after you murder them all?" Steve questions, knowing that if Bucky were to kill them then people would believe that Bucky was the Winter Solider still, or just a cold killer."Who cares, they took everything from me. They took me away from myself." Bucky stormed out of Steve's room in frustration and made his way to his room with loud footsteps as he carried his empty duffle bag.

Bucky's mind was whirling with angry thoughts about how no one understands him and the one person that did, was no longer a happy part of his life. He angrily shoves his clothes and weapons as well as his dog tags and anything else he would need into his duffle bag. Bucky fit everything he needed perfectly into his duffle bag and sat it by the door before he slouched down onto his bed. He rubbed his temple as he exhaled a deep sigh, wishing he could understand life like he did back in the 40's.

"If you feel it so necessary to risk your life so that you can battle an internal fight, then I'm coming too." She swung the door open as she placed down her duffle bag with confidence and stubbornness. Bucky groaned and ran his hands through his hair again, stressed out, knowing that she won't back down. "If you keep doing that, you'll go bald before you're ancient." She giggled snarky as Bucky narrowed his eyes at her seriously. "If you're coming, you're staying in the plane. Eyes in the sky." She rolled her eyes but stayed silent knowing that putting up another fight was worthless.

They made their way to the airplane with slow steps as the tension around them stayed present even in the silence as they walked feet from each other. Bucky's eyes were unable to focus on anything other than her, her hair, her body, her clothes, the way she held herself. He knew he shouldn't think about her like this after their no so soft break up but he couldn't help himself. He was snapped out of it when Steve talked to him on the plane, "Buck, why is she joining us?" He asked as he looked at her getting comfortable in a seat on the plane as if it was her mission to be on. Bucky sighed, "I didn't want to fight her anymore. She will stay on the plane the whole time." Steve nodded in understanding, "We got this." Bucky chuckled, "As long as you don't blow the whole thing trying to 'save the world'" Steve chuckled along with him. The plane ride was silent as they quickly made it to the main hydra headquarters with Steve occasionally talking about the mission and the plan.

When they arrive at the place, Steve and Bucky easily jump out of the plane, landing exactly where they needed too to be at the top of the Hydra roof. She got comfortable on the plane with the coms on, cameras on, and trackers on but she couldn't settle the anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to push it down as she figured that since she was watching and listening to them and that nothing would go wrong. That's what she had wished for, but not all dreams come true.

After the two men had entered the building, an alarm went off causing the rooms to blare nosies and lights to shine red and white in an emergency. They quickly move to the wall, Bucky had his gun up as his eyes glared through the top of the barrel with intense focus as he lead them through the hallway while Steve had his shield up as well as his arm to help brace himself for any situation that could happen. The lights continued to strobe with the blaring alarm as they swiftly and quietly made their way through the headquarters. As Bucky rounded a corner, there was a Hydra solider waiting for them. He fired his gun quickly multiple times causing bullets to go into his shoulder, his arm, and his stomach. Steve quickly threw his shield at the Hydra solider causing him to go unconscious and drop to the floor with a thud. "Buck?" Steve turnt around quickly as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders to help him stay up as he is loosing a lot of blood.

"What's going on?" She asked through the coms as the anxiety in her stomach started to bubble up yet again. "Why aren't you guys moving?" She impatiently waited for an answer as she tapped her fingertips against the desk, staring at the screen of their tracker and trying to find them on the camera system. "Everything's fine," Bucky growls out in a snap. Over the coms she can hear Steve groan, "Bucky got hit, three times." he explains to her and while his words are processing, her heart beat increases dramatically. "I'm fine." Bucky growled out as he continued to make his way down the hallway with Steve closely behind him. She watches as the dots move slowly down the hallway on the tracker, Her anxiety roaring.

Suddenly the screen starts to glitch out, becoming unreadable entirely. She began to panic internally as she starts to talk on the coms, "what's goin' on?" She asks to no response but loud sounds like a frequency is blocking communication. She groans deeply as her anxiety is coming up through her stomach and settling at her chest as she makes her way up and slings a gun around her torso to make her way out of the plane which is now landed at the waiting point. She runs through the clearing and gets to the door, trying to open it to no avail, she uses her body weight next to slam against the door, again to no avail. Sounds of yelling and screaming stop her in her tracks as the anxiety now feels like an elephant sitting on her chest. Looking around, she spot a window and she uses the back gun barrel to break the glass, making sure it's safe before she climbs inside. When she gets inside it is dark and eerily quiet, she cautiously take slow and soft steps and she keeps her gun up on guard as she search's for Steve and Bucky. She shoves open a door which reveals a pitch dark room, She is hesitant to go in until She hears Bucky whimpering in the darkness. She quickly makes her way inside, "Buck?" She whispered as the door shuts behind her, she hears the door click causing her to turn back to the door to see someone outside the door flick the lights on to reveal Bucky on the ground bleeding out from multiple injuries, she ran up to him immediately.

"Oh Buck..." She sighed deeply and she glare up at the person behind the door. The mysterious person presses a button with a smirk before they turn and makes their way out of eyesight from her. She hears a hissing sound causing her to look up to see a gas coming out of a huge vent in the room, the barley visible smoke filling the floor as it causes Bucky to cough an incredible amount and making his injuries worse. The smoke filled the room and eventually her lungs as she can feel the smoke burning her airway. She coughs violently in sync with Bucky, trying to stay conscious and aware but it becomes more challenging as the world starts spinning and her eyes get heavier. Bucky suddenly stops coughing causing her to know that he fell victim to the gas, she tried to fight it as long as possible as she held herself up against a table but still inevitably fail as she fell to the ground with a loud thud as she went unconscious.

When she woke up, everything was groggy and the room is spinning and her chest feels heavy with more than just anxiety. She groaned out in pain when she turn to look around to see her hands and legs tied up to the arms and legs of a chair while she was also tied around the torso. Turning her head, she saw Bucky sitting there tied up the same as her, him still unconscious though. "Bucky!" She whisper shouted trying to get him awake, whispering his name loudly multiple times in hopes of him waking up. "Bu-" She gets interrupted by the sound of a door opening causing her to fall silent as she watches the darkness to see someone emerge from it. "Well, Well, Well. Look what we have here. The world's most dangerous assassin..." The person walks towards us to reveal its Zola dressed in his white coat. "And his little toy." Zola smirks at us. "What do you want with us? Bucky isn't under your control anymore." She speaks deeply and firmly even through the anxiety and fear that is ever so present. Zola chuckles at her question as he leans down and grabs Bucky's unconscious face, holding his face up by the chin, his fingernails digging into Bucky's cheek, leaving red to glow off of Bucky's face. "I want him." Zola lets Bucky's face go with no regard for him. His head falls back down as Zola shifts his attention back to her. "I can't have him with you around. With you here. He has something to fight for." Zola leaned in close enough to her face that she could smell him the smell of rubber and overpriced Calonge on his body, he smelt like fake money. "I'm going to make him lose everything. Anything he loved or ever will love in the future, I will destroy."

Zola pushed some of the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear, "And that starts with you, Darling." Zola had a maniacal smile on, his twisted face that contorted the anxiety in her stomach from anxiety into fear and anger. Her anxiety and fear had instantly turned into rage as Zola kept speaking, her jaw clenching and veins popping out of her neck and forehead. "I'll kill you." Her voice growls deeply with hatred as she struggled against the restraints roughly with harsh movements. Zola couldn't help the chuckle that escapes his lip. "Or you'll die trying, sweetheart." He exclaimed with a smirk on his face, "You'll be fun to play with." Zola runs his fingers softly down her face as she holds a scowl and her eyes bore into him with rage.

A soft voice croaks out, "Don't touch her..." Bucky's horse and rough voice speaks out as he raises his head to assess the situation as the gas wears off. Zola smirked as he trailed his fingers down her face and down her jawline and to her throat where he roughly grabs it with a tight grasp causing her to gasp out at a loss for air. "You take orders, Soldat. You don't give them." Zola says as his dark eyes meet Bucky's whose eyes are dark and cold, his glare unwavering as his jaw clenched. Bucky thrashes around in the restraints, easily breaking out as he saw you under Zola hold, anger filling his body with red heat as he stands up in front of Zola, dark eyes that would send shivers down the body of a normal person. "Let. Her. Go." Bucky's rough voices speaks out firmly as he towers over Zola, he smirks as he lets go of her but reaches into his pocket and injects Bucky with a syringe causing Bucky to be disoriented and out of it as he stumbles backwards. "Stay away from her!" He yells in frustration as he tries to move close to her despite the drugs and ultimately failing.

"Bucky! Stop trying to save me. They want you." She speaks out firmly through her coughs and deep breaths. Bucky growled at her statement, "I will never stop fighting for you, defending you, protecting you. Over my dead body will I let you get hurt." Bucky's deep voiced traveled through the room as it sent shivers down her body. Zola moved to Bucky, grabbing him by the back of the neck like a kitten and forces him down to the ground as he digs Bucky's head into the ground before quickly chaining him up, Bucky being easier to restrain with the drugs in his system. Zola squatted down to make eye contact with Bucky, his eyes digging into Bucky's with determination. "I will destroy you. You'll be mine again."

#bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader comfort #bucky x y/n #bucky reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #i'm feral for this man

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suiana · 4 months ago

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IDK WHY I LAUGH WHENEVER I SEE A YANDERE FARMER X READER FIC CUZ WHAT R THEY GONNA DO 😭? CRUSH U WITH A WHOLE WHEEL OF CHEESE OR CHOP UR BODY INTO PIECES AND PUT IT IN A COMPOSTER TO MAKE UR BODY A FERTILIZER BC U TALKED TO SOME1😭🙏🙏???

And the way i thought of stardew valley when i saw the word farmer😋

🫦🫦🫦

(yandere! farmer x gn! reader)

"no. i reject your cheese. please take it back with you."

"b-but why? you accepted all my other ones... do you not like me anymore? are we breaking up?"

"babe. i have 10 wheels of cheese."

he stares at you, eyes all watery as he holds the basket containing a wheel of cheese in front of him. you merely stare back at him, refusing to accept the cheese again.

yes, you were dating a farmer. and yes, he loved giving you cheese. a little too much cheese.

"so? ten wheels is nothing... my family could finish it in a month-"

"baby, i am one person. a single person eating ten wheels of cheese."

you deadpan, staring at him with the most exasperated expression you could muster before sighing as he starts sniffling. tears well up in his eyes, his expression growing depressed as his hands clutch the handles of the basket tightly.

god damn it, he was such a crybaby. always overthinking your words and actions.

"s-so we're breaking up? you don't like me anymore is that it? i knew you always liked that cowboy more! what, is he more attractive to you? you want to date him instead of me? i should've gotten rid of him last sunday during the party and-"

"no, we're not breaking up. jesus, i just don't need so many cheese wheels."

"then what do i give you? i-i... it's customary to give your loved ones cheese wheels-"

he stammers, rambling on and on about something something customs and other things you don't understand. wait, did he also threaten to kill the cowboy? you watch as he collapses to his knees, sobbing into the fabric of your pants. however, you only stare at him, not at all moving before you grumble and relent.

"ugh. fine. I'll take your damn cheese. just stop crying."

"really? ah, i knew you still love me!"

he brightens up immediately, now smiling like a dog as you roll your eyes and take the basket of cheese from him.

god damn it. now you have 11 wheels of cheese in your house.

#suiana's sinners #suiana's secret lover #yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere imagines #yandere concept #yandere scenarios #yandere farmer #yandere farmer x reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 6 months ago

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Imagine meeting Rob Lucci again on Egghead Island

Warning: Contains spoilers! If you aren't caught up in the Egghead arc and don't want spoilers, don't read.

Rob: [tied up and unconscious on the floor of Vegapunk's lab]

You: [glaring at him from the other side of the room]

Stussy: Oh my, that's quite a scary look. It's almost like you know him.

You: I do know him, or at least I thought I did... A little over two years ago I lived on Water 7 where I worked for an engineering firm, and had a life, and a boyfriend.

Stussy: {looks shocked and points at Rob] Was he your boyfriend?

You: Yup, but I got transferred here shortly before he tried to kill Iceberg, who is my adoptive father. We used to exchange letters, and then one day they just stopped, and then three weeks later I got a letter from Iceberg that explained everything.

Stussy: That must have come as quite a shock.

Kaku: [wakes up] what the? [looks around, before cringing away when he notices you] oh dear.

You: [glares] Is that all you have to say to me?

Kaku: Listen, it was just a job, it wasn't personal.

You: Really? Because trying to murder members of my family feels really personal to me, buddy.

Kaku: [Nods to Robin] Technically, she shot Iceberg.

Robin: I shot him the first time, and I didn't feel I had another choice because you were threatening my friends and I didn't know what to do.

You: The second time was Blueno, and then you and Rob beat Paulie, and then left both Iceburg and Paulie tied up inside a burning building!

Kaku: we did do that, didn't we...

You: not to mention Rob played with my feelings by pretending to be a loving boyfriend.

Kaku: I swear that wasn't pretended Lucci really does love~

Rob: That's enough, Kaku.

You: You can talk! Why am I surprised, everything was a lie, wasn't it?

Rob: .... not everything [looks up at you, clearly pouting that he's being admonished]

You: I don't believe you.

Rob: ... can we discuss this in private, please?

You: no, we can't, I do not want to be alone with the World Noble's attack dog.

Rob: I'm a cat.

You: Excuse me?

Rob: I am a Zoan-type devil fruit user, the Neko Neko no Mi, Model: Leopard, specifically.

You: I don't care, because then you're just plain bad at being a cat.

Rob: Bad at being a cat!

You: yes, because if you knew a damn thing about cats, then you'd know you don't ever actually own a cat, you just live with one. They don't listen, they don't obey, and they most certainly don't respect you. So, I suppose, you were good at being a cat when it came to me, but bad when it comes to the world nobles.

Rob: That's not true...

You: save it, I don't want to hear your excuses.

Rob: [Takes a deep breath] They're not excuses, it's true I got close to you in the first place because of Iceberg, but I grew genuine feelings for you once I got to know you. I know I hurt you, it's why I stopped writing you after what happened in Water 7.

Nami: And because his ego was bruised because our captain whooped his ass.

Kaku: He was also in a coma for like a week afterward.

Rob: I figured by then you would have already had word from Water 7 of what happened, so I didn't want to rub salt into the wounds by trying to stay in your life, and that a clean cut was best for you.

You: [remembering that Iceberg had said he wouldn't be upset with you if you elected to stay with Rob] ... Where is Hattori?

Rob: what?

You: Where is Hattori?

Rob: He flew away when Stussy attacked.

You: I'll go get him...

Rob: [smirks[ thank you, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you again. Although he might not recognize you, you've glowed up since your Water 7 days. [winks]

You: [rolls your eyes] I know single life suits me, so save your smooth talk tough guy, it doesn't work on me [lying].

Rob: uh huh

You: [feels your cheeks heat up as your heart flutters, and you avoid eye contact with Lucci] Whatever, I'll go look for your bloody bird.

Rob: [eagerly watches the door slide shut behind you] It's still there

Stussy: What's still there?

Rob: I believe most people call it, "a spark between us'.

Nami: [dramatically gags]

Kaku: Dude, they always liked Hattori more than you, don't go getting a head of yourself.

Rob: [kicks him] zip it.

Stussy: [sighs] men are so stupid.

Robin: [nods in agreement]

Shaka: [judges in silence]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

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redsaurrce · 4 months ago

Text

EYE FOR AN EYE

SUMMARY : He loves you to the point he is willing to give up his most precious thing- himself.. and an eye.

PAIRING : Student Jungkook x Fem!Teacher reader

WORD COUNT : 1,814

WARNINGS : YANDERE THEMES, OBSESSION, Gore, mentions of blood, mental illnesses, drugs, kidnapping, manipulation, words of profanity, suggestive, he is down BAD, don't fall for his tricks (you won't right?)

"Perfect As!"

"Model student"

"Topper of the school"

"Captain of the soccer team"

"Student council member"

And so on...

Jungkook was it all- for you. Everywhere your eyes laid, he was the perfect student anyone would dream to have in their class.

He was known for being the best and but not for being the bully because he wouldn't let them expose him, not when he almost has fooled you into believing that he was the best boy.. for you.

Well there's no fooling to it perhaps, he indeed is the best boy to ever exist in your life. Any man who'd dare to touch you is dead by the break of dawn, isn't he such a gentleman for protecting you?

Or told his parents (the owners of the school) about you so that you get extra benefits from the school? Isn't that so cool? Who would it do for you? It's none other than him.

Then why did you reject him?

"I am the best in everything, the girls are willing to sell themselves just to have a private talk with me, the teachers try their best to make a good impression on me to gain something, literally everyone wants to be friends with me or wants me and if you're worried of me being younger than you by 5 years ... That's no big deal at all-"

"Stop it Jungkook!" You were angry, "None of this justifies why you've kidnapped me!??And first and foremost, you're such a narcissist - so what if the girls want you? I'm not interested in you the slightest bit, I only ever saw you as a student, nothing more than that. Make a good impression? Why should I?"

"Oh so you're not worried about getting kicked out of school?" He raised his eyebrows.

You scoffed, "I've got more important things to worry about, I don't care about getting kicked out, I already have a list of schools who have offered me better salary than here."

"Then why didn't you leave yet??" He asked you, he was puzzled.

"Why should I tell you? Oh and- what's the meaning of this? First you drug me and bring me to a place I don't know where- how dare you lay a finger on me??!" You clenched your jaw.

"Oh dear oh dear, I care about every single thing related to you, morning, night, anytime of the day I think about you. When I see you- i- I feel so happy. My parents are happy about us Y/N! You are the perfect daughter in law for them, you are smart, brave, kind and bold- i love that personality of yours- i- I love you." He was not joking, you saw him physically shaking from expressing how much he loved you.

He was going insane.

You chuckled, "But I don't like you. You call yourself perfect but in my eyes I've never seen someone as flawed as you."

He started striding towards you and grabbed your chin roughly, "Yeah? I guess I couldn't really hide myself from you then. Then fix me, fix me the way you want me to." His grip on your chin loosens and he leans down, his face coming in the level of yours, "Shape me into the man you want me to be Y/N. I'll do everything you say-"

"Then leave me alone-"

"Shushh!" He placed his index finger on your lips, "Everything except anything that requires you to leave me."

Your eyes were filled with rage, "I will kill you."

"Now, now calm down, you will have plenty of ways to kill me Y/N, afterall getting your hands on my neck is a dream for me." He smirks and leans down to kiss you.

How dare he??!

Just when his lips were about to touch yours, you bumped into him with full power. Little did you know that you had accidentally targeted his left eye.

"BLOOD???" Your eyes went wide.

"AHHH!! YOU- I- I JUST- AAAHHHH" jungkook started screaming in pain.

Did you just make him blind??

"I-- I'm sorry." Tears started to well up in your eyes when you got a flashback of you accidentally throwing a sharp object in your brother's eye making his eye lose eyesight.

It was the left eye.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to do that- if- if you didn't come close to me this wouldn't have happened." You started crying.

"Ambulance - we need to call for an ambulance." You quickly grabbed his phone from his pocket and dialed the emergency number.

"Are you miss Choi Y/N?" You looked up at the source of the voice.

"We are from the police and we have received a police report against you." You looked at the pair and stood up from the chair you were sitting on outside the operation theatre.

"What kind of report?" You frowned.

One of them sighed and said, "For attacking one your students - Jeon Jungkook."

"What??"

"Did you attack him or not?" He asked firmly.

You shook your head, "It was self defence."

"Self defence you say?" He raised his right eyebrow, "I don't see any signs of violence on you?"

Your eyelids flickered, "I- I was drugged and taken to his place then he threatened to get intimate with me so I bumped my head in his face in self defence!"

"You were drugged?" He clicked his tongue and continued, "How about we run a drug test to confirm your statement?"

You nodded, "yes please."

...

After half a day of spending in anxiousness the police came back. "Miss Choi... rather than your blood, we found a drug in the victim's blood. How would you explain that?"

You were confused beyond anything, "H-how is that possible??"

"And we found those drugs in your possession."

"Bullshit!" You protested, unable to decipher wtf was going on.

Just when the police were about to take you away, someone screamed.

"Halt! I am Jungkook's mother and Y/N's mother-in-law. How dare you take her away? They only had a quarrel normal couples would have, my son got hurt in the process by mistake. About the drug, my son has some psychic problems and the doctor has recommended it. If my daughter-in-law wouldn't carry it for her husband then who will?? Do you want me to show you the prescriptions or what?"

What in the world was going on?? What is that lady saying? Mother-in-law? What? All of this was too much for you to take in so you fainted out of sheer stress.

---

You slowly open your eyes and let the light wake you up. You whimpered as you tried to get up only to find Jungkook sitting beside your bed on a tool with his head rested on the bed. He was sleeping peacefully with bandages on his left eye- suddenly everything that happened that day started to hit you.

"oh you're awake- thank god!" He woke up at the creaking sound with his eyes going wide.

You looked at him, "what- what about your eye?"

"oh right, I've already consulted with a doctor in the States, he said that my eyes will get better with an operation that'll cost millions of dollars but.... I'll be fine. " he smiled.

Did he just say millions of dollars???

"Ah and don't worry about my mother's gibberish, she did so to protect you. Right! Talking about my mother- your mother and brother came to see you yesterday.. you were out for three days you know?" He said with a worried face.

"They came?" You asked with wide eyes. You thought they'd hate you for what you did to your brother but it seems like you can still redeem yourself.. right? But how?

"I also noticed your brother had a left eye injury?"

"Oh uhm yeah he has." You gulped feeling extremely ashamed and guilty of yourself.

You felt like a curse to anyone who came close to you. You felt awful.

"You see, the offer is still there.. I can help you with your brother's eye operation too." He said with doe eye.

Your eyes sparkled up, "You will?? Then- then I promise I'll repay you with my hardwork-"

He laughed, "Y/N we're talking about millions of dollars here, even if you work your ass off for seven more lives, you cannot pay me back.. especially with a job like that.

You hated how he was right but even if there was slightest bit of a way-

"Marry me. And as a husband it'll be my duty to pay for my wife's brother." He placed forth his end of negotiation.

You gulped, "Why do you even like me? Why did your mother go to such lengths to save me? What have I even done for you to forgive me for hurting you like this but still want to marry me?"

"You see right through me Y/N. Remember how you were the only teacher who stood up for the corruption going inside the school, my father liked you since then.

Then when i was falling behind in academics- you gave me your attention when no other teacher did because they enjoyed seeing me crumble, they think I have a superiority complex so they wanted to see me go down."

"i did that as a teacher." You spoke.

"I dont care. I love you, Y/N. I like your boldness, your kindness, your smartness, everything of yours- I love it." I'm obsessed with it.

You sighed, is this how your life was going to be? You let out a deep breath, "Fine. Let's get married. You said you'll help with my brother's operation right?"

He instantly smiled so wide he hugged you at once, "Thankyou, thankyou so much Y/N, thankyou so much." He spoke through your hair and was shaking through the hug, you held him back to calm him down and he held on to you tighter.

You were kind, smart and bold but sometimes you can be dumb too.

Jungkook smirked.

He staged all of this to get you, how naïve were you. You couldn't tell how it was suspicious for your head to hit his eye to create that extreme damage.

He had injured his eye himself while moving forward with force when he saw your head was about to collide.

He predicted your every next move, as much as you could see through him, he wanted to see through you.

He used your trauma with your brother to get you, you can be dumb sometimes too.. right?

And he was ready to sacrifice everything for you, starting with his eye.

Ahhh welcome back after a long time babies 😩💗💗

#jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook smut #jeongguk x reader #bts x reader #yandere x reader #jungkook #yandere bts #yandere headcanons #yandere smut #yandere kpop #yandere #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc

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the-whispers-of-death · 9 months ago

Text

You know that pretend to be my boyfriend trope where one character tells their family that they're dating in order to get the family to back off about them being single and now they need a pretend boyfriend? Yeah, imagine that, with Gaz.

Despite being a soldier, your family is hounding you for being single. As if you have time to get a partner. But you can't handle the questions about when you'll finally be taken, so you tell them that you're dating.

Your family is ecstatic, and they keep asking questions about your partner and since you've been around only your squad, the 141, you tell them that your boyfriend is a soldier like you. And you tell them the appeasing shit, how your boyfriend's so sweet and just amazing. That you can see a future with them.

And you think that's the end of it and after your leave is over, you head back to the base. Months pass by, you give your family vague details about how your life is going with your "boyfriend" and then you get into deep trouble when they basically trick you into saying you'd bring your boyfriend to the Thanksgiving dinner your family has every year.

So now you have to try and see which of the 141 will pretend to be your boyfriend, and you decide on Gaz. Mostly because he's your best friend, but also because he fits the description of your fake boyfriend's personality that you gave your family.

One day, you and Gaz are sitting next to each other in the recreational room and you decide now would be the perfect time to ask him to be your pretend boyfriend.

"Hey, Gaz. I have a favor to ask you," you say, looking up from your book to look at him nervously. You hope and pray that he'll say yes to your favor.

Gaz raises his eyebrow, having never seen you so nervous before. You were usually so composed. "What is it? Did you accidentally kill a soldier during training and then hid the body? I'll go MIA with you," he replies, half-joking.

You laugh and smile, your nerves eased so easily as is always the case with Gaz. "No, but good to know you'd still be my friend if I accidentally killed a soldier." You take a deep breath before continuing, "I told my family that I was dating someone, a fellow soldier. And now they've tricked me into saying I'll bring my boyfriend to the Thanksgiving dinner."

"{Name}, are you asking me to be your pretend boyfriend?" Gaz asks, cheeky and flattered that you asked him for the ruse. It makes him roll his shoulder back so his posture is straighter. "You can count of me, mate. You know I always got your back. So what have you told them about me, then? We'll need to keep our stories straight."

You two spend the rest of the day, developing this story further. And as the day wears on, you realize just how lucky you are to have a friend like him.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

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n3ptoonz · 11 months ago

Note

BEGGING you to make more sub mk men content 😭 they're always dom in all the other hc's and it's refreshing to see something that's my cup of tea lol

oh? like this? throws this post behind me like a bouquet toss earthrealm guys here

mk1 hcs: how the outworld guys react to you riding them

y'all sure do love headcanons LMFAOO

i always try my best for most of the outworld cast cause i'm truly an earthrealm girly, but i got yall. yall really challenge me 😵‍💫

Shang Tsung

This sly mf. He thought when you suggested riding, he'd be the one watching you writhe, but it's quite the opposite. Little did you know it was all an act. A fib; fairytale. He wants power, of course, but in the bedroom it's entirely different

Nothing will get him to submit fast than treating him like a common harlot. He's in desperate need of hair pulling, degradation, maybe even act like you're trying to kill him. He's into that shit! He's an aggressive man, so he should be treated as such

I'm talking fully dog this man out while you ride him. It'll drive him mad and make him crave it. Hell, slap him around and call him names and his gasps, groans, and deep whimpers will clear the air in no time! If you add small weapons to the mix or like a role play thing it's ON

He's literally the meme "don't bully me i'll cum" so do with that what you will!

Rain

Rain sexy ass...OOF. That smug "i am a demigod" attitude is punted out the window when you ride him. One single stroke of his hair and a caress of the jaw and just like that he's a slut!

Give him praises. He wouldn't handle degradation too well. On the outside he appears to have his shit together and doesn't have a care in the world about anybody else but his studies (and you), but he likes to be taken care of

If you want to be rougher or if he asks you to, really just pull his hair/give him love bites. idk it might just be me but i just wanna bite him sooo we're gonna say he likes bites! He's also super handsy but mostly when he's close

He's not very vocal but when he is i can see him as the kinda man that like...purrs, if that makes sense? If it don't i say he's a grunter and from groan city: population him

Reiko

Reiko has a hard time being submissive, but you just make it a little easier for him. You kinda have to coax him into it before every time you get intimate because he's made it clear he can do both and wants to try submitting more to the person he loves

It was your suggestion after a long time away for a mission. Poor dude was stressed da hell out! He's like Rain, a sucker for praise. Now that i'm really picturing it he'd prob be down to smother his face into your chest cause like, that's hot to him

When he's feeling particularly spicy definitely tie him down so he can't pull free no matter how much brute strength he uses. Hold his face and never break eye contact, he's all yours! If you call him any name that has the word "strong" in it he's like puddy in your hands

Prime grunt man here. He ain't whimpering unless you deny him of something, even then it goes from a coarse tone to soft

General Shao

Siiggghhhh 🙄 Shao likes the riding position the most. That's all thanks for coming to my Ted talk

LOL JUST KIDDING😹 He would appear like he's incapable of submission but like, this is YOU we're talking about. And he'd do anything for you. Literally.

A little birdy told me he loves when you grab his horns. Grab his horns. Grab them and make him look at you. This unbreakable wall of man yearns to be conquered by someone like you. Someone who dared to challenge him and never back down? By the Gods he has a breeding knk whether you can have kids or not. oh yeah, he'd beg. plead. he's gasping for air like pls just don't stop riding him LMAO he needs his mind off taking the throne for a few hours

whimpering little bitch which eventually turn into growls and grunts. takes a bow

Reptile

Syzoth is so subby I literally cannot picture him dominating a soul. Ashrah got that man on hold fr but anyway this about you

Typa dude to tear up when you ride him. You just look so damn good, and you make him feel so damn good. Dizzy eyes that he can barely keep open; I feel like he'd go brain numb from how fast he feels pleasure

I'm talking like because he's not originally human he's more sensitive. Now hear me out guys...two dicks....AHEM. DONT SHOOT THE MESSENGER!! Both his dicks are very sensitive OHHHHHHHHH Reduce him to a sobbing, stuttering, gasping, mess. He needs it, wants it, loves it. It's up to you if you'd ride him in his og form ya nasty. He'd also have a tendency to leave bite marks on you like your chest, neck, and shoulders

Mister whimper over here there's nothing else he does but whimper and cry jesus almighty somebody give this man a HUG (hug him while you fuck him dumb/busts)

Havik

Banging my head against the wall rn lemme tap in...ok we here let's go.

Another kombatant who peruses power, but also very much attracted to it. He definitely likes to be dominated. He'd be into some real kinky shit too i know it. Literally all the above he don't wanna think about SHIT

He would thoroughly enjoy being completely helpless at your disposal as you ride him. He likes degradation more than praises but if you do give him the kind of praise that inflates his already massive ego. shoot down his arrogance while also maintaining it he fucking lives for it. he likes being choked or slapped too keep that in mind

This bitch growls and that's it. bro ain't got the lips to really make different sounds LMAO?? get yo fuckin dog bitch!!!

Baraka

You might be insane but we love that haha...! Monster fucker certificate checked at the door i understand i do

Absolutely no degradation here DO NOT!! Mf might start crying or give a monologue either way, steer clear. Be nice to him!!

He likes to be held, and he likes holding his partner. If this was confident Baraka from the previous timeline I'd say he likes fast and crazy over slow and romantic but that's not the case. Be immersed and in the moment with him, he clings onto the human interactions he got stripped from him 😞

Growls but that's mostly bc he deadass don't have lips either LMFAO😭

a/n: tearing my skin off rn I DID IT GUYS I DID IT TELL ME IM GREAT😎author likes praise too.

#n3ptoonz #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat #smut #mk smut #shang tsung #rain mk #rain mk1 #mk havik #reptile mk #syzoth x reader #general shao #shao khan #mk reiko #baraka x reader #shang tsung x reader #rain x reader

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theereina · 15 days ago

Text

Never Coming Home

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +1.4K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, no smut, heavily dialogue-centered, death, angst, heartbreak, murder, Rebel Ridge alternate ending, religion mentioned

A/N¹: This is a single one-shot with no planned sequels.

A/N²: I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Masterlist: 🔥🔥🔥

1 month ago

ring ring ring

“Mmm… fuck,” I groaned, turning over in my sleep. I yawned as I reached to grab my cell phone from the nightstand. I looked at the phone to see a number I didn't recognize.

I answered the phone and slowly raised it to my ear. The digital clock by the lamp read 3:24 a.m. “Hello, Lily speaking. Who is—”, I said before being interrupted. The loud sound of rustling came through the phone. “Is anyone there?” I asked, becoming a little worried.

I could hear someone on the other end breathing heavily. It sounded like they were running. “Fuck!” I heard the person say through the phone. Was that— Terry? I sat up in bed, throwing my legs over the side. My feet hit the floor with force. “Terry, is that you?!” I yelled, clutching my chest.

I stood from the bed. “Lily!” he shouted into the phone. I could still hear him panting. “Baby, talk to me!” I screamed as worry filled my heart. I began pacing the floor back and forth. I could hear the sounds on the phone beginning to drown out. He was losing signal wherever he was. Static was crackling through now.

“Lily,… I… lo… you… I'm… ry,” Terry tried to say. It was so broken that I was struggling to understand him. It sounded like he said he loved me. “Honey, I love you, too!” I said, pausing to hear him speak. “I should… lis… to you. Just… kn… I'll… al… love you,” Terry said, sobbing.

Terry and I had been together for over 4 years and married for 1, and I had never heard him cry. He was in serious trouble, and I couldn't do anything about it. Before I could speak again, I heard three loud popping noises.

pop pop pop

Gunshots!

“Terry!” I yelled. “Shit!” Terry grumbled. He was panicking and sounded absolutely terrified. This absolute rock of a man was scared for his life. “If… don't ma… home, —,” Terry began before more shots rang out. I could hear what sounded like the phone hitting the ground. Leaves began rustling and boot steps were closing in. Terry's breathing became erratic and raspy, and I could hear a gurgling sound.

“Marston, he's right here. He's hit!” yelled a male voice. “Good! That'll teach that fucker,” said a second male voice. I could hear the sound of leaves rustling and twigs snapping as someone got closer to the phone. I muted the phone before letting out the loudest cry I ever had. There's no way I just heard this. “Check his pulse,” said the second male voice. “He's—,” said the first male. “Oh, well!” laughed the second male.

hawk tuah

“Good riddance. See you in hell, bud. Hahahaha!” laughed the second man. “Marston, don't you think that was a little dumb? I mean you did just spit on his dead body,” said the first male. “Spit on who's body? Ah, hell. Marston, you dumb fuck! You were supposed to catch him not kill him,” said a third man. “Too late for that Chief Burnne, hahaha!” he laughed.

Present Day

“The body’s in here. All you have to do is identify it,” said the medical examiner. “I don't think I can do this,” I said sobbing.

Just looking at the white sheet made my heart shatter. The outline of the body made me sick to my stomach. I knew it was him, but due to formalities, I had to say it was. I was being forced to face the one thing I had avoided for the last month. The realization that Terry was dead.

Entering this room would seal my fate. My husband was gone, and he was never coming home.

The fluorescent lighting illuminated the cold white room. The air inside was suffocating and intolerable. As I was standing there, the medical examiner walked around me. He approached the body slowly. Upon passing, his arm shifted the sheet. It pulled it down just enough for me to see the top of the head to above the eyebrow. Before I could close my eyes, I saw the healed scar on Terry’s forehead. It rested at the front of the right side (his right, my left) of his hairline. A small scar he got from an accident a few years ago.

It was him. As much as my heart wanted to deny it, there was no denying that. It had been a long gruesome month filled with nothing but crying, screaming, and pain.

“I can give you a moment,” the medical examiner said, peering over his glasses at me. “No!— Let's… let's… I feel like I'm gonna vomit. Let's just get this over with. I don't think I can take this any longer,” I said. My arms were crossed over my abdomen. I closed my eyes tightly as I was dreading this moment. I knew whatever was under this sheet would replace the most recent image I had left of Terry.

I could hear the rustling of the sheet being pulled back. I shuddered at the thought of what came next. My breath felt sharp and heavy. I could feel the tears falling from my eyes. I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders. I needed to get this over with and put this all behind me. “I'm okay. I got this,” I whispered, opening my eyes.

The sight before me broke my heart even more. After all this time of guessing and assuming what Terry would look like, nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw. His face was almost unrecognizable— swollen, bruised, and battered. An array of blues and purples plastered his brown skin. His face and chest were covered in small cuts from running through the woods. The top of a large exit wound rested at the edge of where the sheet stopped at his chest.

This! This would be the final image I had of my husband. Never in a million years would I have thought this would be how I lost my husband— murdered. To think that Terry went through hell in his last moments hurts me— beaten, chased, and shot like an animal. I always told Terry his big heart and demand for justice would be the death of him. Now, he was never coming home.

I slowly approached his body. I wanted to reach out and touch him, but I couldn't. My hands were trembling. “It's okay. Take your time. I can leave for a moment if you tell…,” he said. “Yes, it's… it's him,” I said. These were the words I had been dreading for a month. The medical examiner nodded before leaving the room. This feeling of— trepidation overcame me. My heart, mind, and body were all collapsing simultaneously. As I got closer to Terry's body, I was overwhelmed by the smell of antiseptics and flesh. It was clear that the time between the murder and now had taken its toll on Terry's decomposing body.

I reached out again, touching his cheek. It was cold and hard. I pulled my hand back. There was nothing familiar or sentient about him. His once radiant face was stiff and unbalanced. That once joyous smile was replaced by a permanent scowl. He had been reduced to nothing more than the aftermath of someone else's wickedness and immorality, a rigid pile of flesh and bones.

Anger began to course through me at the thought of why they did it. How could you do this to someone? All in the name of corruption and ego. A sob escaped my throat, festering with rage and sadness. The sound I let out released only a fraction of the emotions I felt in the last month.

I couldn't believe that I was alone. I would have to deal with all of this myself. Our plans no longer aligned with what I was being forced to live. How could Terry do this to me? The amount of hate in my heart had reduced my faith to absolutely nothing. Why did God let this happen? Even after all of my praying, I was left with this— no husband, no family, and a broken heart.

I looked down at my belly as I rubbed my hands across my abdomen. The tears streamed incessantly down my face. It became too surreal as reality set in. The numbness of the feeling that I would have to raise a child alone was unbearable. A child we planned would never meet their father, and why? How did I deserve this? How did WE?

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jiminrings · 2 years ago

Text

pink sapphire

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. your relationship's perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn't think sometimes — and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

[ angst, arranged marriage au, fluff n really wholesome scenes (it cancels out the angst i swear), Jungkook Tries Hard (affectionate), miscommunication, jealousy, self-deprecation, sexual innuendos (no actual smut here!!), did i already say that jungkook tries rlly hard and is remorseful the whole time ]

notes: my year-ender fic for 2022 :) thank u for being here — i'm grateful for all ur love n support!! i'll see u in the next one <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s a vocal person.

Your husband does not leave a single thought unspoken, sometimes his thinkpieces too impulsive that when he says them in public, you try to play it off by either distancing yourself with him or from him.

“I think the world would be just fine even if all the bees disappear,” Jungkook once said to you with conviction, midway into chewing his cheeseburger. “There’s articles about it proving otherwise but they’re too long for my attention span, but yeah, I don’t think it would be that bad, y’know?” he giggles, looking up at the ceiling in serious thought. “If anything, the Bee Movie taught us that-…”

Jungkook yelps automatically when you pinch his thigh, your hand sternly gripping his knee like both your reputations depended on it (they really did). “Jungkook, we’re literally in a climate change gala right now.”

“I don’t think coffee’s ever that serious. Seriously, world barista championships? New techniques in supposedly making the best cup of coffee when you’re all just gonna shit it ten minutes later? It’s not that deep,” Jungkook once whispered to you in urgency, his annoyance through the roof. He’s glued to your side, intent on whispering all about his irritation.

“Jungkook, I’m begging you,” you wince, screwing your eyes shut and slowly moving the two of you to the far end of the room. “We were literally right next to your uncle whose new wife is the organizer for that very championship you’re shitting on.”

“We need to talk about the tote bag epidemic,” Jungkook once whisper-yelled to you in a rush, holding you by the arm because he just can’t contain his inner thoughts any longer. You’re thankful, sure, that you’re your husband’s go-to person for all of his random thoughts; it’s just that he picks the worst settings to tell them to you.

“They look kinda tacky, everybody deludes themselves that they’re functional even if they have zero pockets, and-…”

“And you just offended atleast three different age groups and all of them are in this café. We need to leave.”

Jungkook’s endearing this way, raw and a tad bit annoying. He’s expressive as much as he’s vocal, his hand slotted on your waist like second nature to him. Being married to him isn’t bad. Sure, the circumstances of your union in the first place were for business anyway, but the both of you understood and agreed at the end of the day. By all means, he’s ideal — ideal until he opens his mouth when he’s sleeping.

If there’s anything that your two years of marriage (and counting) to Jungkook makes you realize, it’s that you should value your peace and sanity more than anything.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Jungkook groggily asks you with one eye open, conveniently seeing you in the act of hovering around him with an ominous object in your hand. Maybe it’s the sleep in his eyes or the fog in his brain, but when you look at him like this– bothered and passionately frustrated, it makes him love you even more.

“No,” you mutter, the snoring mouth strip in your hands just begging to be put on already. “I’m trying to make you quiet.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Perhaps it’s the sleep in your eyes or the fog in your brain, but you swear you just saw your husband crack a smirk despite keeping you up multiple nights a week, especially for the past month. He’s not endearing tonight, not at all.

“Isn’t marriage all about accepting each other’s flaws?” Jungkook frowns, about to turn on his side when you put your knee to block him.

“We’re arranged,” you deadpan. “I can’t accept you snoring with bass and reverb every night, Jungkook. I can barely sleep.”

“But didn’t you tell me you like it when I make noises?” Jungkook glares playfully. Bringing up your sex life with him out of the blue almost always does the trick, but it probably won’t work tonight now that you’re only awake and breathing heavily from sheer annoyance. “That you adore me whenever I tell you how much I love it?”

“Jungkook,” you hiss, tempted to flick him on the forehead in his sleep repeatedly so he’ll wake up with a mark. “Will you let me put the snoring strip on you or do we divorce?”

“Divorce,” he sighs out, a pinch instantly placed on his thigh that makes him jolt and squeak anyway. Jungkook whines, correcting himself when your hand hovers his chest this time. “Divorcing is bad!”

“Mhmm. Good night, Kook.”

You vibrate just by the prospect of sleeping peacefully tonight without the walls in the house being shaken up by your husband’s snores, tucking yourself in with an exhale that could last for minutes.

“Mmh-hmm!”

Jungkook could only pathetically whine through the mouth strip, resigning to his fate as he just spoons you from behind and huffs.

“What’s that? You want to wear snoring strips every night?” you chuckle, going to sleep with a smile. “What a nice husband.”

( ♡ )

Every now and then, you and Jungkook have to take a refresher course on each other’s businesses. The both of you know a lot already, constant conversations about which meetings happened where and reminders for events that the other will clear up their schedule for.

There’s already the concern and the general knowledge — it’s just all in the technicalities (even the simplest ones) that the two of you are lacking on.

“Is this a mock neck or a crewneck?” Jungkook holds up a shirt that’s yet to be released, eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to mess up. Come to think of it, you have to know now because his family’s holding company had acquired yet another brand and there’ll be a televised event for it — and some reporters ask the stupidest questions to date. You can’t be the weakest link.

“I wanna say neither,” you clear your throat, biting your bottom lip in confusion. It’s a shirt with a collar and that’s the only thing that matters. You know there’s a name for it and there’s a possibility that the choices Jungkook gave you were all bluffs.

Your answer definitely seems to pique both Jungkook’s interest and amusement, resisting the urge to laugh.

“Elaborate.”

“It’s neither of the two. It’s uhm, in the middle?” you tilt your head, only praying that you could bullshit your explanation to your husband, the very person that created the garment. “It’s an all-new neckline created by Jeon Jungkook because that’s what his label is all about.”

Flattering, but really wrong.

“Cool,” he snickers, nodding to himself before he tosses it for you to catch. “It’s a crewneck though.”

“What? Then why did you make me elaborate?” you complain, scoffing to yourself because you know you should’ve went with that answer. Crewnecks should be easy enough to answer but for some reason (read: you stayed up last night watching new-money elitist reality shows instead of studying), you couldn’t answer.

“To see how good you can run away with your answer, duh.”

“And did I run away with it?”

“You ran away with it for like, four meters,” Jungkook commends you, the distance not all that bad in hindsight, atleast until he opens his mouth again. “There’s a hundred meters in total.”

Trivial things like quiz night on each other’s professions remind you that Jungkook’s nice to be with. Banter flows easily and he’s just so charming that so far, you haven’t deeply regretted a single day out of the two years you’ve been married.

You may not be able to name all the different fabrics, silhouettes, and techniques behind Jungkook’s very own streetwear brand, but you know that he likes being held when he’s asleep; that when he taps your thigh groggily after waking up in the middle of the night, it’s him very kindly asking you to rub circles on his back until he falls asleep.

“Okay, my turn!”

Your glass table almost shakes in excitement when you retrieve your sketches, making your husband all the more nervous because you look genuinely excited and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. He doesn’t have the room for error — your family’s jewelry brand turns 100 years old since the opening of its first shop and the event will be widely attended by everyone from all industries. Who’s to say that your eccentric grandfather won’t suddenly host a quizbee all about their craft?

You flash the paper quickly and your husband sighs in relief, grinning in confidence.

“Emerald cut, easy!”

The confidence is quickly washed out from Jungkook because you snort, putting the paper down.

“It’s an octagon cut.”

“No it’s not,” he immediately retorts in disbelief, squinting at the sketch you’ve set down already.

“I sketched these,” you narrow your eyes. You forgot just how quick Jungkook can keep himself in denial. “Emerald cuts have more depth to them."

He succumbs just as quickly as he turned stubborn though, rolling his eyes with the internal reminder to touch up on his jewelry knowledge because your event comes before his.

“Fine, sue me for thinking your drawings have depth and dynamic to them.”

“You’re buttering me up.”

“Is it working?” Jungkook blinks owlishly, proud of himself when he sees the corner of your lips twitching. He holds his arm out to sling across your waist out of instinct, pleased in pink when you lean into him.

“Barely.”

Jungkook frowns, nosing into your hair with a huff. “Look who’s talking. You made up an all-new neckline by yourself.”

“Shh,” you hum. “Let me get away with it.”

These moments of domesticity are what remind you that Jungkook’s never been less than ideal for you. That despite being in the same social circle as kids and only starting off as friends, you weren’t hesitant when both your grandparents suggested the idea of getting the two of you married.

In trivial and domestic moments like these, you think that you would’ve wanted to marry Jungkook even if you weren’t arranged.

“I let you get away with a lot of things,” he playfully huffs, resting his chin on your shoulder intentionally heavy to get you to cave deeper into his embrace.

“Because I barely wrong you!” you reason, rolling your eyes because you know for a fact that although you’re not a perfect wife, you’re beyond ideal.

“I know,” Jungkook rolls his eyes this time, the truth undeniable. You’re right; you’re so perfect for him that sometimes, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. “How about me? Will you let me get away with a lot of things?”

“I already have,” you sing-song, narrowing your eyes playfully as if in deep warning. “But I won’t always do.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook first realized that you loved him when he missed a single step on the staircase and tumbled a whole flight.

It was 3 AM then, the reason behind his sudden trip downstairs being the fever you developed overnight when you had just gotten home from a ski trip. He had put a wet towel in the freezer in the afternoon and he was supposed to put it on you before you went to sleep. Jungkook must’ve beat himself up for forgetting because he wakes up with a cold sweat, determined to put that frozen towel on you like his life depended on it.

Jungkook thought he was doing well by the way he could navigate clearly even with the sleep in his system, eyes still half-lidded and brain still half-working that he decides to rip out the largest yawn to man mid-step on the staircase — before he knows it, he’s woken up immediately to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook!” you yelled to him then in a panic, eyes wide and frantic to see him at the bottom of the stairs with a sheepish smile. Jungkook knew then that seeing you with a head-splitting migraine visible on your pale lips and fatigued eyes, scooping him up on your arms with nothing but scolding and fussing on rotation — he knew that you loved him more than you let on.

You know Jungkook loves you. So when the bed dips and your arms grow cold despite swearing up and down that the both of you have a free day today, you doubt for a second.

“What are you doing up so early?” you mutter, stifling a yawn to see Jungkook up without a complaint.

“Breakfast with my parents. My crazy aunt suddenly came over and they need backup,” Jungkook answers with a pained laugh, cussing himself for being such a filial son. “Don’t worry, I know you hate her plus you were up all night yesterday so I just told them you can’t come because you’re under the weather.”

You’re put at ease to hear him, sighing a breath of relief — good, Jungkook still loves you and doesn’t plan to leave you. It’s just an inkling you’ve had the last few weeks, the daunting realization that in a couple months’ time, it’ll be three years of marriage with him.

It’s the impulsive, less rational part of your brain that thinks Jungkook’s growing bored of you, confused of how he’s been perfectly content being your husband for almost three whole years.

You go with Jungkook all the way through downstairs, your playful teasing towards him about never yawning again on the steps giving him more amusement (and embarrassment) than necessary.

“Kook?” you question with a furrow in your brow, pointing at the dish that’s occupied still. “You forgot the car keys.”

“Oh. I’m not taking the car,” he smiles, shrugging to emphasize the jacket that he intentionally wore. You missed the detail somehow, the surprise in your voice more evident.

“You’re taking your motorbike?”

“Mhmm!” Jungkook hums pleasantly, the background music in his brain going from calm elevator music to rising bass rift. He’s just about to bid you goodbye with a kiss after he wears his gloves but he’s stopped even before he could come near. You’ve already read his mind.

Your husband knows it when you put your arms across your chest, nodding towards the cabinet with a tone that leaves no room for counterarguments.

“Go wear your full gear.”

“But the breakfast place isn’t even that far,” Jungkook whines, head tilting back. His gear was literally hot, protecting him from sunlight yet physically making him boil inside.

“I want you in one piece.”

“You want me?” Jungkook cheekily grins, eyebrows wagging incessantly with his arms outstretched. That’s it! If he could just act cuter and be a little more-

“Go wear your gear.”

“I look goofy,” he mutters, eyes downcast. The longer he goes without blinking, the faster he knows that he’s going to stick to your words.

“You look safe,” you smile in success when you put his helmet on, securing it extra tightly that draws a whine from him.

Jungkook frowns but he knows that you’re right as always, a relieved sigh coursing throughout his whole body because who knew where he’d end up without you.

“Ride safe, Jungkook. I mean it. Don’t pull any tricks,” you glare pointedly at him, recounting all of the near misses he had from wanting to be adventurous, be it a trip downstairs to the refrigerator or in the middle of a main thoroughfare.

“I promise not to pull a wheelie on the highway, yes,” Jungkook mockingly salutes you, drawing out a faux disappointed sigh from you.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Was he really? Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, smacking his lips when he seems to get the gist of it. He walks towards you, puckering his lips to the max because he doesn’t want to headbutt you with a solid helmet for just a smooch, landing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You appreciate it, but Jungkook’s not quite right.

“No, not that.”

“What?” he seems taken aback, suddenly realizing. “Oh!” he giggles, raising up his right hand in a pledge. “I promise to text you when I get there.”

“Good.”

You have to put more strength to drag Jungkook by the helmet, angling your head to the side to kiss so he doesn’t knock you in the forehead with the extremely safe (and extremely bulky) helmet you got him.

Jungkook smiles in contentment, clearing his throat as he revs his engine. It’s all good then. He had become worried in silence because your three years of marriage were approaching and got scared because what if you grew bored of him already?

Jungkook worries that he’ll mess things up with you one day, but with the way he can see you waving at him frantically on his side mirror when he just left, it’s okay.

He knows you still love him.

( ♡ )

Hoseok’s your most talented and trusted metalsmith.

His work ethic’s unparalleled, your vision only coming into fruition through his support and skill. He’s indispensable to you, your place in the direction of your family’s business cemented by Hoseok’s aid.

Hoseok as both an artist and your employee is different from Hoseok as your friend. Both are cunning but the latter is more ruthless, the lines being blurred every now and then. He loves his job, don’t get him twisted at all — in fact, he trusts you as a boss and the company beyond comprehension that he doesn’t bear any tact for anyone who threatens either.

Not even for Jungkook.

“A collab, huh?” Hoseok squints, looking through the portfolio you’ve handed him. There’s already projected numbers that your analysts have predicted for you but he pays the papers no mind. He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. “A streetwear brand wants a limited-edition collection with us?”

Jungkook clears his throat, timidly raising his hand. He’s always known that Hoseok’s standoffish to literally everyone except you, but what he can’t take is being talked about like he isn’t in the same room.

“Uhm, I’m Y/N’s husband.”

“Well you’re the owner of that streetwear brand, aren’t you?” Hoseok raises a brow at him, tilting his head. He looks drastically bored, his tongue poking his cheek.

Jungkook blinks, not exactly knowing where this was going but he doesn’t like it one bit. “Yes, but I’m also her husband.”

“Okay?” Hoseok tilts his head, eyes already exhausted from the conversation. You know that look on him, the one that tells you he’s bored to death and is itching to shut up the nearest person to him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jungkook rarely gets flustered by anyone else besides you and this time, it’s the bad kind. The embarrassment he gets from just conversing with Hoseok makes him feel like he’s an inconvenience, unease settling into his stomach. Jungkook wishes he couldn’t be so perceptive to know that despite Hoseok’s eyes normally being unreadable, his gaze now on his sketches can be read as underwhelmed.

“Well I-I mean, I’m hearing a lot of us and it sounds like you and Y/N, not me and Y/N,” he licks his lips, recognizing the insecurity that sticks to his tone like honey. Not only does he feel insulted as an artist, he also feels insufficient as a husband.

“That is what I’m saying though,” Hoseok trails off, hand vaguely gesturing for Jungkook to fill in the rest of the blanks. When he doesn’t, Hoseok does it for him. “It’s me and Y/N seeing this brand through. Not you and her.”

Jungkook blinks once, twice.

Hoseok isn’t wrong. No matter how much pain it brings Jungkook to admit it, Hoseok isn’t wrong. Your marriage may be for you and him alone, but your company– your artistry is only yours as much as it’s Hoseok’s. He has no place here and he feels it, his initial confidence that the collaboration he proposed was going to pass already dwindling by the millisecond.

“Hoseok’s right,” you cough, breaking their conversation. The tension was already too thick and you’ve barely made it halfway to looking at the entirety of the portfolio. “Reel it in, Jungkook.”

He’s jealous. He’s jealous and he forgot just how pathetic and insufficient one could feel when the green monster of heartburn decides to make an appearance. Jungkook just about doubts everything, from thinking of how your admiration for Hoseok is probably much higher than the admiration you have for him, to thinking if you even benefit from being arranged to him.

Hoseok looks over the designs, noting all the details silently.

“Huh. I see,” he hums, clearing his throat to try and keep all the crass words he has in mind to himself because you’re looking at him intently. “Skulls. Haven’t seen this one before.”

“You sketched this?” Hoseok nods every now and then, holding up the paper that had deep indents of the pencil on the paper to the point that it defeats the concept of a sketch. Your husband nods, and he wishes he hadn’t because Hoseok comments not a second later. “Figures.”

He hums, silently approving here and there of some concepts he could totally get behind. It’s not all rubbish content, but he can’t say that salvageable automatically equates to commendable.

“So? What do you think, Hobi?” you ask when the silence has gone long enough, having noticed that Jungkook already grew too quiet in your corner.

Hoseok calculates in his brain, looking from the portfolio and back to you. He tries not to clench his jaw for the sake of you silently pleading him to mince his words and actions, clasping his hands together.

“Yeah, it’s doable,” he nods, making Jungkook smile despite his ego being a little wounded. He’s bounced back miraculously, profusely thanking Hoseok with an unexplained eagerness to him. Before Jungkook could launch himself to further possibilities though, Hoseok calls for you.

“Y/N? A word, please?”

Jungkook looks back from the door, hesitant doe eyes flitting between the two of you. You don’t know exactly what’s going through his mind but you know better than to project, bidding him goodbye for the timebeing. “It’ll be quick.”

The most commendable trait you can attribute to Hoseok besides being your friend is his passion for your craft. He’s vision-oriented in the sense that he cuts straight to the chase before he could even lose the trail that the sudden burst of fervor leaves him.

“Meridian’s your baby. It’s your grandmother’s grandmother’s baby. It’s coveted. It has meaning,” Hoseok rambles, the sigh leaving him more concerned than it was relieved at being let out. He can’t mince his words now — he can’t put it in any other way besides the truth. “Collaborating with Jungkook cheapens it.”

“Hoseok.”

Your tone edges on a bite, clenching your jaw as you try to take everything in. Hoseok’s been your voice of reason for so long but you don’t know how to accept that voice now, the tinge of guilt slowly staining you because the back of your mind tells you that he isn’t wrong.

Jungkook’s streetwear brand is huge; whether or not you chalk it up to his name being linked to his family’s holding company that’s responsible for other designer brands, your husband’s brand specifically remains larger than life. It’s not a flawless brand, that much you’re sure of, but it’s still of great value.

Just perhaps not of the same degree that Hoseok holds your company to.

“It’s not all bad, but most of his work is dispassionate. It’s typical. Meridian would look cheap if you commit to this fever dream collaboration.”

There’s a rash on your neck, one that’s warm and speaks to your ear of how shitty it must feel to even agree partially to what Hoseok’s saying. Your duties as an artist in the business rarely clash with your courtesies as Jungkook’s wife — today just happens to be one of those days.

“It’s Jungkook’s idea, okay?” you relent, voice low as if in defeat of admission. You don’t mean to belittle him, you just happen to know and listen to reason. “It’s not the best, I know, but it’s honest work. Let’s give him a chance.”

“You’re giving him a chance because he’s your husband, not because you see any potential.”

Hoseok says it without uttering nor a single sense of doubt. He sounds so definite that you don’t even know if he’s still insulting Jungkook or if he’s insulting you at this point, swallowing your words.

There’s truth to your craft but you know there’s an even bigger truth to the unspoken protectiveness you have over Jungkook, the answer sounding seemingly shallow but that’s what it really is — love makes you shallow as much as it makes you deep.

“You’ll know when you’re married.”

“Arranged would be the term for you and Jungkook. Not married,” Hoseok quips. “You’re only holding back your critique. We both know it’s a dead end when it comes to creative direction.”

The both of you leave it at that, the decision being unanimous to collaborate with Jungkook despite your metalsmith’s hesitance. What you say goes, that’s just how hierarchy works.

Unbeknownst to you and Hoseok though, Jungkook’s been listening the whole time — that’s just how love operates sometimes; hidden and relinquished.

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s hurt.

How crude of Hoseok to think of him that way. How worse of you to agree even.

Jungkook’s irrational when he’s hurt, refusing to see reason. He knows at the back of his head that he’s hit a rut and pitching in a collaboration with your brand is his last-ditch attempt in sparking something. Cheap was a word for tackiness and to have your friend use it on him brings him to a new low.

It’s just jewelry. What you make is just jewelry. Just pieces of metal bended and soldered together with shiny gems that don’t possess any real meaning to them besides superficial.

It’s not that deep.

Not that deep to the point that when Hyejoo, his childhood friend turned actress turned fleeting appearance in his life every now and then (whom you hate for some reason), asks him for a favor — Jungkook barely hesitates.

Hyejoo stands before him in a shirt from his brand’s limited collection, one out of the only hundred ever made. If Jungkook recalls correctly, he didn’t even send any items from the limited collection to any of his friends; he left everyone besides you to go fend for themselves.

Perhaps his childhood friend’s truly a fan of his craft, knowing her for her utmost support towards all his releases. To be honest, the two of them aren’t even that close anymore to the point that they’re each other’s first friend to think of in dire circumstances, except now — now when she needs him for a favor.

“But I need a pink ring for the event, Jungkook!” Hyejoo whines, throwing her head back for dramatic effect. Truth be told, she knew no brand that had pink jewelry that was elegant enough for her taste except yours. She’s turned down sponsorships all for a ring you probably keep in your sock drawer. “Yes I can buy from other brands but you’re there, Kook. You’re available and I can borrow from you because your wife has a shit ton.”

Jungkook knows what Hyejoo’s talking about. It’s the one pink ring that you wore on your engagement party with him and it’s become the talk of everyone from how ethereal you looked, the one tiny piece of jewelry tying it all together.

He knows it’s pink and he knows it’s just hidden away in its jewelry box, one that you keep right next to his collection of watches. There was no fancy vault for it either, just tucked next to his timepieces as if they were of the same value.

“Come on, she won’t even notice,” Hyejoo urges him, making him inwardly cringe. She turned up on his front door unannounced asking for a favor and he feels indebted her for the last time she granted him one, the apartment complex that Hyejoo owned becoming the perfect backdrop to his collection that’s still renowned to this day.

Jungkook’s loyal, he knows he is. His loyalties lie with you and he still honors his debt — whether or not you’re caught in the middle. It’s true that you won’t even notice, you don’t even peek at it anyway! For someone who’s a part of a family of jewelers, you rarely accessorize yourself gaudily.

“Fine. I’ll let you borrow,” Jungkook mutters, finally relenting to Hyejoo’s requests. He opens the door wider, on the way to your shared bedroom but looks back hastily at Hyejoo to point a stern finger. “But give it back, okay?”

It takes a great amount of strength for Jungkook to even hand the ring to Hyejoo, not even including the box with her because a) you would know that it was missing, and b) he wants her to wear it at all times until she gives it back the next day. Jungkook takes it personally to flick her wrist to serve as a reminder that he had given it to her already, even going so far to take a picture of the two of them and make her sign on his notes app.

He’s not necessarily betraying you — or so he thinks. It was just jewelry that you wouldn’t miss, same as the shirts that he gives away to his friends. Their retail prices may be lightyears away but you would understand; you always do.

Jungkook gaslights himself into thinking that he did no wrong but the guilt is what slowly gnaws on him, the tips of his fingers going numb every time he looks at you.

Come to think of it, his decision to lend your ring to Hyejoo was out of sheer pettiness even without the assurance that you’ll take notice of it. His hurt over Hoseok’s comment disappeared the moment he handed her your ring, but to his surprise, it’s anxiousness that replaces his irritation.

He kisses you good night still as if today didn’t happen; how his irrationality had gotten the best of him when he got hurt by Hoseok’s remarks over his passion and creativity, and just a few hours later, it’s his impulsiveness and misplaced urge for vindication that lent your unsuspecting ring to his childhood friend.

“Jungkook!” you yell out in panic, urging him awake instantly that his heart beats incessantly despite being pulled out of sleep. You look frantic, the rawness in your eyes not from your lack of sleep, but instead from tears. “Call 911. The Interpol! The CIA! The fucking Blue House!”

“What?! What happened?!”

He’s panicked just as you are, hands shakily clutching his phone. He looks you up and down and inspects you for injuries to which there are none, nothing but overwhelm making your body shake.

Jungkook can’t bear to see you so glum and helpless, your bottom lip trembling as you look at him feeling nothing but pathetic.

“My ring,” you whisper brokenly, the phantom feeling of wearing it making you sob even more. “My ring is gone.”

Jungkook’s mouth dries, the panic in his own body turning against himself, his remorse growing into something larger than life. He could physically see the confusion on your face on the way he paled, his phone dropping out of his hold.

Your husband’s hands reach for you but you don’t take them, recoiling even before he could open his mouth. Jungkook was readable — too readable to the point that you wish he had lied to your face instead.

“I-I can explain.”

Jungkook weakens by the knees when the words drape from the tip of his tongue, your chest sucking in an inhale so sharp that he gets weakened by the force of it. “I lent it to Hyejoo.”

You’re quiet, the type of rage in you simmering ever so slowly that it builds to an immense heat. You don’t know if you can ever muster to look at Jungkook in the eye, your middle finger that knows the grooves of your ring twitching in muscle memory.

“You what?” you croak, tilting your head. You know what you’ve heard but you just wish you’re mistaken this time, cursing your own accuracy. “Who told you that you could do that?”

Jungkook’s cornered in his mind and he spews the first thing in his mind, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Yours is mine and mine is-…”

“That doesn’t apply here! You’re so fucking-…” you just about burst in the seams, clenching your jaw so hard to the point that you give yourself a headache. You’re resolute this way, the pitiful look on your husband’s face not getting a single drop of remorse from you. “Get it back.”

You wouldn’t have lent it to anyone regardless if Jungkook asked you, but you would have considered at the very least. For him to take something so special to you and loan it to someone you’re not even fond of ticks a wire in your brain, your anger coming before the sadness fully hits.

“Y/N!” he hisses, angry at both the situation and himself but he now thinks of the courtesy that he didn’t possess when Hyejoo borrowed your ring. “I can’t turn back on my word.”

“What? Your word that favors Hyejoo and shits on mine?” you scoff in disbelief, laughing at the mockery Jungkook makes of you. It’s insulting and saddening and you can’t even begin to think of the extensive cleaning and safekeeping you’ll have to do once you get your ring back. “I said, get it back. You’re my husband and you’re just her friend, you have all the means to take my ring back.”

Jungkook turns somber, a stark contrast to your anger. He pleads with you, finally closing the gap between you to which you roll your eyes.

“The event is tonight. She’ll return it tomorrow. Please, it’ll be embarrassing.”

“For you or for her?” you ask but the rage in your voice is already simmering, the daunting thoughts of how Jungkook thinks of his friend’s sake and himself first than his wife making you clench your fists around nothing.

“Y/N, please.”

His incessant begging does little to influence your decision because you’ve already changed your mind, the rage that dipped in you and the fact that your heart’s already aching despite having just woken up converting you instead.

“Tomorrow morning. I want it back in the case before I wake up.”

The two of you sleep apart for the night and Jungkook can’t even bring himself to contest it knowing that he doesn’t deserve to hold you. He simmers in self-loathing, unable to sleep the night when his phone dings from the notifications it has of your name.

Hyejoo’s look on the carpet trends the whole night, the main focus of everyone being the pink ring that adorns her ring finger. There’s threads of speculations how you and her are either best friends or how she must’ve bought it from you. If only he could, Jungkook would reply to each comment saying that Hyejoo doesn’t hold a candle to your elegance and how the ring has always been yours — that it’s his fault that his friend’s even wearing the same piece.

He’s restless and he can’t even begin to think how much more tired you feel. Of your name being brought up and of him royally fucking up.

When Jungkook thinks it couldn’t be worse, karma one-ups him from the very mistake he committed when he entertained Hyejoo’s favor in his mind.

“You’re stupid,” you spit to Hyejoo who stands on your porch, head downturned in shame. She had half the decency to face you personally but lacks the rest to honor her end of the bargain; she lacks the intellect to respect you.

She lost the ring. She lost the pink ring you’ve treasured and cared for since you were a teenager, losing it after a careless and drunk decision of skinny dipping. You feel like you’ve been made a fool not only by your husband, but also by his friend that you don’t care for at all.

The tears fall out of your eyes in anger, each one being in a rush to exit because you’re full of resentment at this point.

“You’re a brainless, stupid, careless fucking idiot. I don’t want to see you in my household again,” you point at her, making her step back.

“This is Jungkook’s-…” she squeaks, just about to correct you when you point at her even more menacingly. You’re not even joking around as it seems like, eyes angry to the point that they lack of love, even for Jungkook who tries to hold you back.

“I’ll get a restraining order on you.”

Hyejoo scurries out all with the promise to reimburse you (as if she has the money to do so) that falls on deaf ears, your hand slamming the door too hard that your husband swears the walls shook with your force.

You look unrecognizable with the sheer disappointment you have for him, your anger dripping off of you thickly that he’s rendered speechless.

“You,” you seethe. “I fucking hate you.”

You never told him that before.

You’ve gotten mad at him on several occasions but never to this degree where you tell him that you loathe him. This is the furthest that you’ve took it, the honesty behind your words making his bottom lip tremble.

Jungkook’s eyes have been perpetually moist since last night but it’s only now that his eyes sting with white hot sadness. You’re only reacting out of your state of overwhelm; you must be, right?

“I hate you so, so much, Jungkook.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I really mean that,” you scoff to his face, shaking your head in absoluteness. “What would you do if I sold your car, huh?”

Jungkook wants to apologize to you so bad but he doesn’t have the right words to give you the proper one that you deserve. He gives you an answer off the top of his head, the disappointment for himself growing if he does otherwise.

“It’s just a car.”

“Well this is just not a fucking ring to me! It’s not simple like that!” you burst, your movements jerky.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he whispers, wanting to tug at his hair for being so stupid. He should’ve considered the possibility that Hyejoo has a knack for being careless; he failed to account that he went behind your back to lend your ring to someone else in the first place.

“I can buy my own rings!” you exclaim. “What you don’t get is that this means the world to me! If your uncle gave you a car, and I gave it to someone else and now it’s on the bottom of the ocean, what would you feel?”

“It’s just a car from my uncle. I can replace it. I can buy a better one.”

Jungkook knows he’s just making excuses. He’s just being defensive now that he’s cornered and has no excuse for behaving so poorly. He can’t escape the anger and the disappoint he’s flooded with, not when you cry out of sheer distress.

“Not if my aunt isn’t here! Not if this ring is one of the only things I have of her!”

Sure, your aunt was dodgy. She’s the black sheep of your family and had done more than a lot of questionable things, but she cared for you. She had given you her own ring when you were twelve and whilst it was too big for you to wear, she gave you a chain for you to wear it around your neck.

The ring is something you can easily replicate but the thought behind it is what you can’t take back. It’s not the only piece of her that you have but it’s one of the earliest things you obtained; one of the most notable pieces out of the bunch.

“You don’t think. You don’t care. You don’t love.”

For Jungkook to carelessly seize it from you and loan it to someone else grips your heart like a vice. You’re gonna dwell on it for more than a couple of days and realize that you have more sentimental and elegant things you have of your aunt eventually �� but what matters to you is how you feel now. How Jungkook had disappointed you so bad, you feel like throwing up.

“I want to divorce you,” you seethe, meaning your words at the heat of the moment. Jungkook stands frozen, hearing his own heartbeat thrum in his ears. “I can find a new husband. What I can’t find — what neither you nor Hyejoo can’t find is my ring.”

( ♡ )

You do it while he’s sleeping.

You take advantage of Jungkook’s fatigue and disorientation from crying his eyes out, passed out in the couch while he hugs himself with his arms to try and replicate your embrace. It’s already morning and it only looks like he slept just minutes ago, positively dozed off.

You take much care in slipping of the platinum wedding ring from his finger, joining your discarded one in your palm. There’s only carelessness when you scoop them into a tiny drawstring bag, taking it to Hoseok and doing a regular work day as if your head hadn’t pounded with hurt just last night.

It’s only convenient for the both of you; Jungkook’s decision slingshots back to him, and your client would be happy. Hoseok texted you last night asking if he should grant the request of a high-profile client with a titanium pendant, and it just so happens that you have two chunks of it that you no longer need. It could be melted and repurposed — after all, it’s just jewelry according to Jungkook.

The guilt of your impulsiveness doesn’t hit you instantly, it only comes with confusion when you see your husband in shambles.

When you come home, the whole house is upturned. Jungkook’s frantic, waking up to a hand that bears no wedding ring; no proof of you. His eyes glaze with relief briefly when he sees you, urging you to take in the situation fully.

“The police. The CIA! Interpol! MI6 — or is it MI7? Fuck, Mr. Bean’s movie was too good! Get the Blue House on the line!” he blubbers, looking back and forth the cushions of the couch and his hand. “My wedding ring!”

It’s perhaps a ballsy move made on your part, but you can’t guilt yourself into bearing the blame. You made your wedding rings and it only makes sense for you to get rid of them. The bands are symbolic, made and upheld with love for the last two years but in your haste of upset, you’ve given them away.

You perhaps regret it slightly, the fog in your brain lifting but only faintly. You’re still mad and disappointed at Jungkook, and perhaps you don’t mean the bit of divorcing him, but you do mean wholeheartedly the sentimentality you have behind all your jewelry.

The platinum in your ring finger just felt too heavy last night that you grew weary of it, not thinking twice when you removed yours and Jungkook’s. Even if the two of you make up and you don’t end up divorcing Jungkook, you wouldn’t want to wear the same ring that brought you the same pain during its stint.

“I sold them,” you answer, turning your back on him before you could see the anguish in his face. “We have no need for them.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s making you a rice bowl as an apology.

Buttered fried rice, egg, bacon, and all with a generous amount of cheese. It’s his hangover food when he needs something greasy and filling but the only difference from his past hangovers and your anger at him is the latter barely feels like it could be rectified.

He says his apologies again through the door and he’ll happily repeat it to your face if you stand longer in front of him for more than a minute, his panic even larger than the oil splashes he’s gotten from making your bacon eagerly.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It was stupid of me to lend your ring to Hyejoo behind your back and I swear I won’t do it again. I know that ring meant a lot to you and I-I was so pathetic by invalidating that,” he mutters through the door, looking at the frying pan every now and then to make sure he wasn’t burning anything. “I have every intention of finding your ring and making it up to you, cross my heart!”

It feels insulting, even. For him to think that he could change the ache of your heart with a simple hot meal. Jungkook realizes that he really is dense when you don’t answer the door for the twenty minutes that he knocks. When you do open up, he feels even more dumb.

Just twenty minutes ago, he wired you twice the amount of the worth you estimated your aunt’s ring to be. Combined with the pitiful amount Hyejoo wires you, it’s then do you realize that you’re not fazed by money. The initiative is there, sure, but the ache in your heart hasn’t subsided completely.

You do miss Jungkook. It does tug at your heartstrings to see and hear him beat himself up over and over again the more you realize that you’re attached to your aunt’s memories rather than the ring itself, but just two nights away from each other won’t absolve everything he’s done and failed to do.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by the sight of your husband who tries far too hard for his own good. Melancholy isn’t a good look on him because he looks the most unkempt he’s ever appeared in two days than the two years you’ve been living with him under the same roof.

Jungkook waits for you to register his attempt, holding up a hot bowl with his bare hands that you resist the urge to take it from him for a second. His ring finger’s occupied by a cheap mood ring, rapidly turning red at the moment from the heat of the bowl.

You look down fully expecting to be swayed even just a little bit, but when you do, you feel the kick to just slam the door right back.

“I hate runny eggs,” you scowl. “Two years married and you don’t even know how I like my eggs cooked.”

Jungkook wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He wishes that if it was true that chickens are the last true descendants of dinosaurs, there’d be a chicken the same size as them that pecks him into oblivion.

He hurriedly turns on the stove and scoops up the egg back into it, careful not to have any of the runny folk get on your meal. He itches in frustration, his ring finger that’s temporarily adorned with a cheap and clunky mood ring being accurate by turning blue in sadness.

Jungkook’s so out of it, so disappointed in himself that he doesn’t notice he cooks the egg until it’s burnt, the char of it reflecting how poorly he thinks of himself now.

It’s like when you were disappointed in him that time when his outlandish aunt made a rude comment about you and you were speechless the whole night that he stayed silent. He remedied it by later groveling at your feet and marching to his aunt and laying out all of his intentions for her to grow up and apologize to you, the same aunt that’s now blacklisted from all the gatherings.

It’s like when you were upset at him when he left abruptly in the morning and didn’t tell you where he was going because he didn’t know if you would care, partying it up in a different country for his friend’s bachelor’s party and coming home a day later with you hot on his heels. Jungkook made it up to you by once again apologizing profusely and updating you on his whereabouts since then (sometimes he gives too much information), always making it a point to bring two powerbanks with him so he can text you when he’s left and arrived.

This time though, he doesn’t know how exactly to make it up to you. He’s been in contact with professional divers to try and look for the ring for you, but he can’t be of much help until he comes along to know for sure. He’s thinking of all these different ways and approaches but he’s unsure if any of them are sufficient enough to rectify his mistake.

Jungkook feels pathetic because he swears he loves you and knows everything about you, but here he is — crying about how he doesn’t even know how you like your eggs cooked.

You’re upset at him, and he can’t do anything right for you.

( ♡ )

Jungkook tries again at dinner.

It’s the day of Meridian’s 100th anniversary and the two of you play it up for the cameras, your husband’s attention on you so keen and affectionate that you almost forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

He takes advantage of the cameras during the carpet session, tugging you close with his hand on your waist as he seizes the chance to hug you tightly at the end when you enter the hall with no cameras in place. He breathes you in as he always does, hesitant to let you go and exhale because you’re the very scent and existence of love.

Jungkook studied, of course he did. He’s touched up on his jewelry knowledge because he’s more than desperate now to seek your validation, nervously smiling all around as he waits for people to stop approaching you in your table.

His attention’s fixed on your necklace, the stone on it similar to the very ring he lent and lost. He’s brought it up about five times already, animatedly reciting trivia about it as if you’re not the literal face of the jewelry industry. He clears his throat, leaning in for you to whisper intimately, but just loud enough for the other people to hear a tad.

“Ah, that pink sapphire looks so good on you, babe.”

“Shut up,” you mutter sharply, making Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. You melted against him when he was hugging you, that much he was sure of. He doesn’t know why you’ve become harsh again all of a sudden, forgetting that his lapse this time was opening his mouth. “Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” his brows furrow, swallowing the lump on his throat. “Pink?” he guesses, eyes wavering as he tests the waters. “Pink sapphire?”

It takes a lot in you not to make an outburst. Truth be told, you’ve started easing up on Jungkook but his attempts at trying hard is just too much and in the wrong direction, hearing pink sapphire over and over again reminding you of the ring you lost.

“Yes, that! Stop talking.”

“But I did my homework! Of course I’m not gonna stop talking,” he defends himself, the nervousness rising to his throat like bile. God, what if he did the wrong homework? What if he’s missed the assignment all along?

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough because you’re wrong, Jungkook. This isn’t a pink sapphire — this is a pink diamond.”

Jungkook’s brain stops functioning for a solid five seconds, his mouth drying. The only proof that he was still breathing is his big eyes threatening to water.

“And so is my ring that you gave to your friend without asking me,” you add.

“What?!” he sputters in disbelief, recounting to all the other times he named the gem in multiple occasions even before today. “B-but I said it so many times before! You didn’t even correct me!”

“I didn’t correct you because you looked so proud of yourself!” you exclaim, surrendering with a sigh. Pink sapphire was the first gem that Jungkook had managed to name in your trivia night on the first month of your marriage, his avidness on getting it “right” so contagious that you didn’t have the heart to correct him.

“Pink sapphire is dirt cheap compared to pink diamonds, Jungkook! You just keep saying sapphire over and over again because it’s your birthstone,” you mumble, looking around to see if there were any people growing nosy at your conversation. “I let you say it over and over again to the point that I wore them instead of diamonds because you just can’t shut up about them,” you grit.

This is the only time you reference your sentiment with the jewelry itself in words, your last profession of your disappointment in him being the removal of your wedding bands.

“That’s the thing with you — you can’t tell. This isn’t just about emerald o-or octagon cuts, Jungkook. This is our marriage and you gave a girl that I don’t like my ring that meant so much to me! Now you can’t get it back.”

Jungkook’s speechless, holding back tears. You fear you’ll cry yourself when you look at his round, pleading eyes so you don’t, squeezing in the last word even if he always lets you have it.

“And now I’m correcting you because you’re embarrassing me. Now please, lay off with the gem terms.”

( ♡ )

Things have been tame between you and Jungkook.

You’ve aired out your grievances and Jungkook’s still trying hard as always, perplexing you because he hasn’t gone restless. It’s progressively warmer between the two of you but it’s nowhere near to what the two of you used to be, the air between the two of you going static that you’ve utilized it for your own.

It’s just a quick getaway for the day, hopping aboard a yacht with the intention of giving yourself a break. You’ve reflected enough but not alone with yourself, the period of space with Jungkook being much-needed.

Until you’re mistaken of course.

You think your mind’s playing tricks on you when the boat rocks more than it would with waves, but the all too familiar figure coming into your vision turns out to be real. It’s Jungkook in the flesh, wearing his scuba suit and gear.

It’s a pure coincidence that is. All Jungkook knew was that you were going on a yacht today and you didn’t specify where; meanwhile, all you knew was that he was going to be scuba diving, but he didn’t specify where either.

It’s purely kismet but your bodyguard Taehyung doesn’t seem to think so, legitimately thinking it was a pirate instead of your husband so he repeatedly smacks him with an oar until you stop him.

“Jungkook!” you call out, getting your bodyguard to stop. Atleast he has the decency to look sheepish, but he was genuinely concerned! He thought you were being hijacked by someone dressed in the most unassuming scuba suit, holding a plastic bag in his hands.

Your husband barely winces from the pain because he’s high from all the adrenaline, chest rising rapidly in succession. “Y/N, baby, I — hold on, I’m gonna, wait-…”

He looks tired still but there’s a light to him, either his radiance has come back or it was just the sun behind him but either way, it was nice to look at Jungkook who isn’t groveling at your feet for once.

He finally catches his breath, standing up to his full height as he tries not to ramble his words.

“I bought all the fish.”

“You did what?” your eyes widen, pathetically looking at the vast ocean around you. Perhaps you’re so startled (and amused) by Jungkook’s sudden and silly appearance that you forgot to apply common sense, just as breathless as he is.

“Okay maybe not all, but I did buy a lot of fish,” he concedes, nodding incessantly. He’s too excited that he can’t contain himself, even more-so when you finally look at him without disdain staining your features.

“For what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jungkook smiles, never having been more proud retelling you his previous failure.

“Your favorite seafood restaurant? I bought them their stock, provided that they’ll open up every last fish in there to see if they had your ring,” he shrugs as if it’s a common thought process to abide by, later shaking his head. “They don’t.”

If there’s just one trait that Jungkook had to be known with by everyone, it would be his persistence.

Jeon Jungkook is endearingly, cloyingly, and annoyingly persistent with the things he desires and the things he’s passionate about. You’re his wife — you’re his every last desire and passion. He had wronged you fresh from a week and some days ago but that timeframe has already given him ample time to fully redeem himself.

He can’t undo what he did. He can’t reverse the time he lent his wife’s ring to his friend who loses it not a full day later. Jungkook can’t take back any of the things he did but what he can do is be dedicatedly persistent in correcting himself.

He’s tanner, his muscles are bulged and straining, and his skin’s itchy with all the salt but he takes all of these things in stride — he’s become a better person through persistence.

“I also tried snorkeling for a week and I still couldn’t find it,” he trails, biting his bottom lip while he clasps his hands behind his back. “But I tried again today.”

It’s either relief or endearment that fills your face full, but nonetheless, the light that Jungkook sees from you lulls him to the comfort and warmth he’s been yearning from you for the past week. His eyes are strained and his body feels itself moving in waves as if he was still underwater, but he just closes his eyes to savor the moment.

You bound to him to put him in an embrace, your husband instantly melting in your hold. It’s either all the salt in his eyes or it’s just the realization that you’ve finally forgiven him and it’s all the love he feels for you, but either way, you hold Jungkook tighter.

“I found your ring.”

( ♡ )

You don’t know when Jungkook first loved you.

You can’t pinpoint an exact moment when Jungkook started acting differently towards you because he’s always been the same way from day one, the same qualities that make him both annoying and endearing having been there from the start.

You could always ask but you can’t bring yourself to. It shouldn’t bother you at the end of the day because the important thing is that Jungkook loves you. He loves without reservations, the pinnacle of his love language being his patheticness in trying hard.

Jeon Jungkook may try hard for everyone, but he tries the most for you.

He wakes up early and you only realize his absence when you turn to pat the warm space he’s supposedly left behind, making you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

You wonder for a second that if Jungkook left the bed early and is quiet at the moment, he’s probably at the bottom of the staircase again because he yawned while going down. There’s no schedule today for either of you and you aren’t sick for him to make any sudden trips downstairs, his absence making you wonder this time.

There’s clanging coming from the garage, piquing your interest largely. There sits Jungkook wearing less safety gear that you’d like, blocks and blocks of wood surrounding him.

Your husband looks up, unassuming as usual while he breaks out into a grin.

“I’m making furniture for you.”

“That’s not necessary,” you snort, recounting all of the pieces you’ve acquired from your friend who’s an expert on woodcarving. Jungkook seems to know this too but he’s insistent, shaking his head eagerly.

His eyeglasses (his prescription ones instead of the actual safety ones) fog up from both his sweat and the few tears he’s shed out of frustration, taking them out so you could see the passion in his eyes. The passion’s definitely there, dampening his eyelashes and even tinting his eyelids pink.

“No, I’ll paint it up real good and it’ll blend it to your aesthetic.”

“Besides that, Jungkook,” you warn, coming down to squat on the space beside him. “You’re not good with tools.”

“Not good at them like Hoseok?” he questions, raising his brow. He’s frustrated and cranky and he just compared his (eager yet improper) use of large power tools compared to Hoseok’s expertise in using much, much smaller tools. Jungkook’s sweaty from all the effort, vaguely gesturing to the item in front of him. “Please, can Hoseok do it like me?”

Your husband points to the lopsided bench (?) slash coffee table (?) slash abstract piece (?) in front of you whose message is that they’re tired, only the scoopers for faux blood missing. It’s quite the spectacle. Not necessarily a statement piece because it raises more questions than any resolute takeaways at all.

“No, not really,” you joke around, winking to get the joke across your husband’s skull who sometimes reads between the lines too literally. “He can do it much, much better than you.”

“I’m trying to be romantic!” Jungkook whines with no real harm. “Go ahead, why don’t you divorce me and marry him because he’s so good with using a hammer?”

The two of you were back; the same playfulness and warmth rekindling, if not stronger. Some things were just too strong to grow out of, such as Jungkook’s double takes when it comes to another name being linked to you.

He’s just making sure, still as desperate to gain your validation even before the ring incident took place.

“That was… a joke if you couldn’t tell,” Jungkook laughs robotically, eyes narrowing and widening at you every two seconds. “I’m just kidding. You knew that. You wouldn’t do that… right?”

You wouldn’t.

He knows that you love him. He had known it during his state of vulnerability and he knows it now even in a state of security. He knows it even without a wedding ring, your promise of making new ones for the both of you remaining in his mind.

The downfall of Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t be his persistence that also bears the ability to be his uprising, it was never that. Jungkook’s downfall would only be the loss of you and it’s the only absence that he can’t risk.

Your husband tries so hard that it brings you secondhand embarrassment at times, his mishap with the pink sapphire cementing in your mind just how much of himself he dedicates to you, even with lapses along the way.

Jungkook tries so hard that he ends the day with splinters on his hand and his sinuses clogged with far too much dust. His effort doesn’t always equate to the best but he gives what he always has when you’re in the equation.

It’s a wooden box for your rings, a shallow heart with your initials carved on the inside. It’s smooth even without the varnish, a stark contrast to his hands that are all rough from doing all the labor.

“I can’t give you jewelry that you already have.”

Jungkook admits to you whole-heartedly, sitting at the end of the bed while he watches you admire the box in your vanity.

“But I can make shirts for you. Stitch up your name real nicely on my chest pocket,” he offers, the smile on his lips growing. “I can make furniture for you,” he shrugs, chuckling at himself. “I can’t guarantee that it’s usable but I can make furniture a little.”

You smile so warmly that Jungkook forgets all of the little pains, melting away his fatigue. If you could put all the love you have for Jungkook in a single space, even the mansion the two of you reside in won’t be enough.

“Cooking too. I can also cook a-and make perfect rice and I promise to remember how you like your eggs in the morning.”

Jungkook knows it to heart by now, even without the reminder he’s written himself pasted on the counter. Your eyes were just so glossy and moist that Jungkook can’t help but to spring to your side, patting them dry with his shirt.

Your husband wipes away your tears even before they could form and it pushes them out further, the voice in your throat dwindling. It’s the cheap and rusting mood ring on his ring finger that gets you to sob, seeing the faint green outline that it leaves.

He takes notice of your observation, understanding that jewelry means much more to you that he could comprehend which is why he’s quick to remedy your thoughts.

“I can always get tattoos of you if that’s what you want,” he continues, smiling sheepishly. “Actually, that’s what I want.”

Jungkook takes off his ring and it forces you to blink away your tears, lips parting open when it clicks.

It’s your initials on Jungkook’s ring finger, recognizing it as your own handwriting.

You’re filled with a great amount of gratitude that runs even deeper than the ink on Jungkook’s skin, making you sniffle and it gets him to bury your face against his chest while he shushes you.

“Why would you get that?”

It belatedly hits you that since you took your wedding bands, your husband’s left ring finger had not been vacant since.

“Because you sold our rings,” Jungkook shrugs, the look of ease on his face evident. “You sold them but we’re still married to each other,” he gently kisses your temple, letting you hold his hand to look at the tattoo closer. “We’re married. I still want people to know that I’m married to you.”

“Well,” you clear your throat, distraught with your emotions. “Your mood ring says you’re sad.”

“Passionate would be the term,” he sniffles, transferring the cheap ring to your finger. He giggles when it changes colors immediately, the timing of the situation being impeccable. “Okay now my ring says you’re happy.”

“Are you?” he asks whilst laughing but the both of you know it bears a weight.

“I am,” you answer just as seriously. “We’re okay, Jungkook. I forgive you.”

If you ask Jungkook what would his greatest joy and his greatest pain be, both answers would be you.

“Is your tattoo artist still around?” you ask while he puts you close to his chest, snapping him out of his trance.

“What for?”

“I think I want to match your permanent ring.”

“Are you real?” he mutters to himself, questioning your existence that he still isn’t sure if he deserves to have and love for the rest of his life. “Are you really real? You exist?”

“Yeah, he’s still around but I’d rather do it on you myself,” Jungkook answers eventually, returning the question. “Is that okay? Let me learn for a few months and I’ll tattoo my initials on you myself?”

You furrow your brows, not a single doubt placed on you if your husband was the one to tattoo you. “Yeah, but is that okay with you? You’re the only one who’s gonna have me on you for a couple more months. I can’t reciprocate because you want to ink me yourself.”

Jungkook only smiles, the warmth enough to outshine the sun.

“That’s not new to me,” he reassures you. “I loved you even before I married you.”

#thank u for 2022 :) consider this as my gift for the holidays!!!#jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine

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1-800-luvmail · 9 months ago

Text

[ read part one w/ price here ! ]

reader who would rather skydive without a parachute than have their self sufficiency questioned vs cod men [ 2 / ? ]

könig assumed that when you invited him to bake with you, it was going to be a cute little activity for the two of you to do. a simple afternoon in your kitchen, making some baked goods to enjoy later.

he could not be more fucking wrong. you bake up a storm, leaving trails of flour, baking soda, sugar and whatever other substances you've used in your wake. you also seem to be eyeballing every single measurement. it's chaos. he's never seen a more disorganized process of making red velvet cupcakes.

the worst part is, könig can't seem to understand why he's even there.

"hey can you pass me th— nevermind, i got it." you say, standing on the tips of your toes to reach a bag of chocolate chips which was just a little too high. he's just a whole 6'10 ft of useless, standing in your kitchen, and getting in the way.

so instead of waiting for instructions, he choses to make himself helpful by attempting to clean as you bake. it works smoothly for the most part. he wipes up any milk you've spilt on the counter, places a batter covered spoon in the sink to be washed later (not before taking a little taste of course... and mess be damned, you're good at baking even if the sample he got was raw), and moves the bowls you don't quite need yet out of the way.

everything is going fine. you're talking to him like this is the most calming activity on earth and he's replying with little hums of acknowledgement and nods as he swiftly tries to get a little more batter from the whisk you've just stopped using.

"hey— no. you're gonna get sick. there's raw egg in there." you chide, just as he's about to sneak a lick. he wonders how you even noticed, considering you seem to be using 110% of your concentration on filling up the cupcake liners with just enough batter for each cupcake to be roughly the same size, which happens to be the only semblance of consistency you've had this entire baking session.

"i'm not going to die because of a little batter." he counters, amused by your concern. he can't help but chuckle.

you snort, rolling your eyes. "famous last words of an impatient man."

eventually, your baking frenzy subsides. the red velvet cupcakes are cooled after being pulled fresh out of the oven, you've made an insanely good homemade cream cheese icing to go on top (which you begrudgingly allow him one taste of. one.), and it's time to decorate. you've piped on most of the icing already, but the unsatisfied stare you give your baked goods allows him to piece together it isn't over yet.

"i think these need sprinkles." you murmur after a moment. your eyes glance around and eventually land on possibly the highest shelf in the kitchen. where the sprinkles just so happen to be. he tries to supress laughter when he sees the disbelief on your face. "motherfu—"

"i will get it." könig interrupts, stepping towards the shelf. you step in front of him, blocking him from getting there, hauling a chair with you.

"nope. won't need to. 'm innovative." he watches you set up the chair and get ready to climb up— only to gently grab your forearm and tug you back.

"famous last words of a stupid person." he scoffs, echoing your words from earlier.

you shoot him an exasperated look as you wriggle out of his grasp.

"c'mon, i do this like, what— all the time? hasn't killed me yet." you say, pointing at the shelf. "it's not that high. i'll just climb up to reach it."

"or you could swallow your pride and allow me to get it."

"and what fun would that be?"

he sighs at your response, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he mutters something to himself. probably in german. not like you could hear. you were too busy staring up at the shelf and getting the chair set up.

on one hand, könig wants to help to prevent you from potentially falling and eating shit, but on the other, he knows you well enough to understand there's no stopping you. so instead, he settles for a compromise.

könig moves the chair out of the way.

"i said, i'm getting it by myself. i kinda need the chair for that." you huff, glancing back at him, only to watch as he lowers himself, arms wrapping around your legs. "hey wh—"

before you can process, you're hoisted up into the air with a startling ease.

"alright," he isn't even trying to hide his smirk as he lifts you up, high enough to reach the shelf, "you can get it."

#val's 💭#cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod warzone #call of duty #könig #könig x reader #he'll literally b ur personal ladder idk what to say #he's strong. and tall. might as well make the most out of it #i've actually had severe könig brainrot and honestly as someone who dgaf abt this man usually itz a welcome change #hes such a kyutie :33

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captainuranium543 · 2 months ago

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Ft headcanons nobody wanted part 2

-natsu will occasionally get genuinely jealous over his friends owning appliances for heating. Why should they need those things when they have him, if they just call him over her do a way better job then any of those stupid gadgets. He finds out gray owns a hair dryer and immediately becomes a jealous ex girlfriend. He confronts Lucy in her apartment one night acting so serious he she doesn't even get mad that he broke in, then just goes "care to explain this?" And puts a lighter on the table.

- Wendy is very very quiet. Creepily so. Not elaborating but I think you can imagine the kinds of situations this leads to.

- Mira's eyes glow in the dark and it creeps everyone the fuck out

- erza has the worst hoarding problem. Her dorm room is entirely piled floor to ceiling with boxes of meticulously organized random items she refuses to throw out for some reason

young Mira: "alright this is ridiculous why do you even have this"

Young erza: "say what you want but when you need 746 packets of Mcnolias sweet and sour sauce and find your supply baron I'll be laughing"

- levy is one of the few members of the guild who actively sought it out to join. Before fairy tail she was an orphan and a student studying magic. She left to join fairy tail to learn more about magic in general from real world experience.

- laki will sometimes build creepily realistic wooden statues of her guild mates and leave them around in inconspicuous places so when you find them they scare the shit out of you. Sometimes she hides them too well and it takes years to discover them.

- Lucy has actually written several unpublished novels and the only other person who's ever seen them is levy. Lucy thinks their crap but levy carefully annotates every single one.

- laxus used to occasionally be forced to go on jobs with erza and Mira when they were young both to help and to make sure they didn't kill each other and he hated it.

- I think I might have said this before but I firmly believe levy, Lucy, freed and jellal later on all form a book club because they love reading, the problem is they all have vastly different tastes in book so they can never decide what to read each week and usually just end up playing Scrabble and talking shit about their various teammates

"please guys trust me this one's good"

"I am NOT reading Colleen Hoover Lucy and that's final"

- this one's based on city hero but I personally believe erza and Erik find a shocking common ground over motorcycles. Erza likes vehicles in general and Erik took up bike racing as a hobby, since discovering this is the longest they've been able to be in the same room together without someone throwing a punch.

- Wendy visits lamia scale regularly still to hang out with chelia. she usually brings romeo and they all go out to do whatever dumb kid stuff they want. (Tbh I just like her having friends her own age)

-lucy sometimes randomly lets her rich girl's heritage show in random conversation and it's always jarring. You'll be having a normal chill convo with her and then she'll look you dead in the eyes and ask you what colour your personal carriage was growing up.

- Natsu is genuinely a really good cook he just has a terrible taste so nobody wants to eat his food. For reference he only ever cooks his food because he enjoys doing it to him it tastes fine either way.

- if you had asked the fairy tail guild who the scariest guild member was in early season 1 the answers would have been erza, guildarts, laxus etc all the usual suspects. Once season 2 starts however the answer is unanimous. It's juvia. Juvia is fucking terrifying when she gets mad. You don't realize how scary water can be until it's filling your lungs and as your vision blurs until all you can see is her merciless stare.

- Mira and freed can drink blood for demon reasons. gray can too after getting devil slayer but he thinks its gross. Surprisingly so can gajeel because of the high iron content.

- gray the type of guy who's bed has only the smallest thinnest blanket on his bed and usually it's on the ground cuz he gets too hot

- meanwhile erza is the type of girl to have so many pillows, blankets and plushies on her bed you wonder how she fucking sleeps in it. Mf has a NEST.

- Lucy isn't even surprised anymore when she finds people in her house, she doesn't know how they keep getting in and honestly she doesn't care anymore she's to tired to deal with it.

- freed plays a lot of really fucking weird instruments. Idk it just seems like something he would do.

- bixlow can speak most languages and it's always really surprising when he randomly says smth like "oh yea I can speak ancient nirvid no prob" like that's totally normal

- if laxus and freed ever did get together (in my heart it's cannon) evergreen and bixlow would be their biggest haters. Yea they love them and they're happy for them but also EW. GROSS. GET A ROOM.

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #gray fullbuster #mirajane strauss #laxus dreyar #jellal fernandes #levy mcgarden #gajeel redfox #erza scarlet #wendy marvell #freed justine #erik/cobra #laki olietta #headcannons

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literaila · 9 months ago

Text

new pups

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru brings home a couple of additions

warnings: satoru is annoying, reader is fed up with him, tsumiki is doing something (???), megumi is tired he needs a nap

last part | next part

year three

��ladies,” satoru calls, slamming the door instead of shutting it, even though you've scolded him about it for five weeks straight. “i’ve returned.”

there’s the distinct sound of someone kicking the wall—probably just satoru throwing a bag by the door.

you set down the pen you're holding, sighing at the sound.

you used to live in a peaceful house, always clean, always calm, no boys to disrupt your wonderful lifestyle.

and now you live with three kids. you probably haven't had a single moment alone since you moved in.

and yet tsumiki looks up from the table, her eyes wide and waiting, and you watch fondly--glad that they're home.

megumi rounds the corner, rubbing his eyes. his hair is a mess--complete with leaves and mud--and his face looks like it was stretched out by a car tire. but tsumiki smiles at him, not bothered by his appearance. “i’m here too," he says, walking up to the table where you're helping tsumiki with her homework, looking distastefully at the worksheets the two of you have lost track of.

you smile at him.

“hey, kid,” you say, pulling him to kiss his forehead. he tastes like sweat. “how was your class?”

he shrugs, as telling as ever, then goes to the kitchen.

satoru is next, as untouched as he was before he left, not a hair out of place, leaving a loud smacking kiss on tsumiki’s head—who loves it—and one on your cheek— which is promptly wiped away.

“did you miss us?” he asks you, leaning against your shoulder with his entire body before you push him away. his blindfold is slipping from his face, and you snap it against his skin.

so he huffs and sits at the chair next to you, blindfold off, moving it even closer. seriously, he has never learned the meaning of personal space.

“we didn’t have time,” you tell him, kicking his leg as he sits down. “we’ve been working.”

he gives tsumiki a look. “blink twice if you need help.”

she opens her eyes wide, making him laugh. her tiny fingers tap against the table, and you can tell that she's about to beg you for another break--just to go check on her room, she'll swear, or grab a glass of water.

you've only been sitting there with her for an hour, but even you're feeling a bit restless at the math and reading comprehension worksheets you'd like to never see again.

“shoo, satoru," you tell him before he can say anything else,

"we’re almost done.”

“but i just got here!”

"you're going to disturb tsumiki. she's working hard."

"i can watch," he grins at the little girl, "can't i, miki?"

tsumiki looks between the two of you, nodding her head. "he's okay," she whispers to you, sweetly, and you pretend not to notice as the two of them share a wink and a smile, plotting against you, probably.

"sit and be quiet," you point at him, turning away.

"actually... could we take a break?" you frown at her, raising your brows. "there's not much left, and i promise i'll finish it all soon!" she pleads, taking satoru's signature sweet talking, "i just want to check on something real quick."

you sigh, looking at what she's got left over, and, for how long you've been working, it's not that much (plus you could probably use a break too). "okay, but--" tsumiki is up from the table before the words are out of your mouth, her smile radiant, and she runs away before you can get another word out.

you snort as she leaves, then look to your best friend, frowning at him. "that's your fault."

"i sat down," satoru deadpans.

"i know you're teaching them to slack off when i'm not around," you tell him, moving your chair at least three feet away. just to get away from his crushing aura.

satoru does not take this hint--nor any other one--and he moves with you like it'll physically kill him to be any further apart.

"does avoiding homework and playing candy crush count as slacking off?" he asks you.

"yes."

he nods thoughtfully. "oh, then yeah."

you groan, stacking all of the papers on the table. your shoulders bump into his as you do so, his hands on your thighs, creeping as they try to scare you away.

then they're gone, and he grins mischievously.

"don't worry, megumi wanted to show you something anyway," he whispers, and then looks down the hallway, where the boy disappeared a couple of minutes ago. "megumi!" he sings.

about thirty seconds later a scrunched-up body marches into the room, wearing pajamas already, dark circles that shouldn't exist for a nine-year-old under his eyes.

seriously, what did satoru do?

you nod at the boy and he looks quizzically at satoru, entirely bored and exhausted.

"well?" satoru asks after they've been staring at each other for ten seconds straight. "aren't you going to show her?"

megumi blinks, and usually, he'd probably argue at any request satoru made, but he looks too tired. he merely gives a half-hearted eye-roll, shaking his hair out of his eyes.

and then he turns towards you, looking briefly at the light above the table, rests one of his hands upon an open one, making an indiscernible shape.

and almost before you can see them--you feel it, that unmistakable current of cursed energy, but satoru doesn't flinch, so neither do you.

then there are two puppies at megumi's feet, barking excitedly beneath him.

the two of them may be trying to give you a heart attack.

you stare for a moment--watching as megumi pats both of their heads, then looks at you, like he didn't just bring home two new pets without even asking you.

or like he's not just nine, creating creatures out of thin air.

you blink. the white one sniffs around megumi's feet, moving over to satoru to inspect him while the other black one sits by megumi, happy to remain there.

"see!" satoru exclaims after he's had enough of the silence. he looks ridiculous bending down to pet the dog sniffing at his feet, who tries to nip at him in response.

"you--" you frown, tilting your head, watching closely as they might disappear. "you made those?"

"they're shikigami," satoru tells you, "aren't they cute?"

"you just learned how to do that?"

megumi nods.

you gape for a moment more--so many curious thoughts running through your head, attempting to scare you away from your little boy and whoever he's supposed to be--but you shut them out. then smile. "wow, megumi. that--wow."

his nose ruffles at you.

"and you can summon them at will?"

megumi frowns, but satoru nods.

"and release them?"

"he figured it out pretty quick," satoru says. "honestly, i was impressed."

you stand up, ruffling his hair. "good job, buddy," you say, with obvious pride.

how many parents can say that their child created two puppies and brought them home to them?

"they can't really do much."

"i told you that they'll grow with you," satoru says, rolling his eyes. "maybe they have laser eyes."

megumi frowns at him.

"hmm," you watch them, the white one sniffing at you now. "they are cute. who could fight these little guys?" you say, cooing at the puppy, who basks in your attention. "they might shock curses into submission if nothing else."

satoru laughs, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you rise up again.

you give megumi a frown, watching his slow blinks. "you tired?"

he nods, not even bothering to deny it like he usually would.

"okay, go hang out. we'll get dinner ready."

megumi walks off, the two puppies following after him.

you brows furrow as you watch him go. "did you have to torture him to get him to summon them?"

satoru rolls his eyes. "i just talked to him until he figured it out."

"so, yes."

"actually, he didn't say much. just kind of sat by himself and thought for a bit."

"and you watched?"

satoru grins at you, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face.

"he looks like he's half dead."

he shrugs. "took a lot out of him. puppies are hard work."

he's recalling what you told him when he tried to get you all to go to the animal shelter a couple of weeks ago, you look at him pointedly. then away.

satoru grins at you, pulling his head back, then pauses. "what? you're not a dog person?"

"how much do you know about his technique?"

"not a lot," he answers, simply, "i know that he'll probably rival me for strength. when he's older."

"how are you going to teach him?"

satoru shrugs. he doesn't need to worry about any of this, you think. he doesn't need to fear a single thing.

and, really, he's always been a little too good for you. a little too strong for your soft demeanor, and easy heart.

you bite your lip, considering it. how fast will megumi grow now that he's figured out the basics of his shikigami? how much longer can you keep him here, tied down?

it only makes you wonder what satoru was like as a kid, who he might've been if he hadn't always been him.

"he's only nine," you whisper, soft, unbroken. it's not a confession or a worry. just the truth.

"you were nine."

"i was ten," you correct, appreciating satoru's strong arms against your body, his effortless hold on you.

he laughs, tilting his head at you. "i was born."

you roll your eyes, pushing him off. enough of his presence. "yeah, yeah, honored one, whatever."

he pulls you back, though, easy as ever. "it's normal," he reminds you. "he's got us. he'll be fine."

you sigh, hanging your head against his chest. "we don't know anything about his cursed technique."

satoru hums.

"we have to figure it out," you tell him like you haven't thought about it every day for the past year alone. like you'll be able to figure out anything.

"okay."

"do you think there are books on it at the library?" you ask him, thinking about yaga's lessons--which, in hindsight, you should've paid more attention to.

satoru frowns. "i'm not reading those."

"well, no one's going to tell you about it."

"you could. after you read the books," he grins, very pleased with this answer.

"you're helping because there's probably, like, twenty different ones all contradicting each other."

just the idea of the library is a tough one. who knows what information has been muddled over the years, or what you'll need to know for megumi, anyway?

no matter what, it's gonna take longer than a day to figure it out. probably a decade, at least.

"can't megumi just read them for himself?" satoru whines, shaking his head against yours at the same thought.

"satoru," you pinch his forearm.

he groans. "fine. fine. i'll talk to yaga next time i'm at the school."

"good boy."

"don't patronize me," he pouts.

"where did you learn that word?"

"i can read, you know."

"really? thought i was gonna have to teach you that too," you smile at him, pinching his rosy cheeks. he looks very pretty like this--always unchanging, unbothered.

"i was the best in my class, i'll have you know," he tells you like you weren't there to experience that same class.

"you mean laziest," you shake your head, stepping away, finally. "god knows why you turned out to be so strong."

he grins again, leaning towards you. close enough to breathe in. "it's part of my natural charm."

"great," your brows raise at him, "you and your charm can help me make dinner."

"do we have to?" he whines.

but satoru is very similar to your new puppies, in that as soon as you walk away, he follows, sniffing eagerly after you.

"so," satoru says, sitting too close to you on the couch. he yawns, body sprawled against the cushions.

you try to push his head away from your shoulder, but the effort is futile. he might as well glue it there. you wonder when he got the time to fill his brain with cement.

you sigh, and dog-ear your book, knowing that he's not going to shut up for at least ten minutes. "what?"

"i talked to yaga today."

"about the books?"

"among other things."

you flick his forehead. "did you get us in trouble again?" you ask, frowning. "i told you to stop spilling my secrets to anyone who asks--"

"it was an accident."

you shake your head, rolling your eyes at him. but your hand subconsciously wraps around his shoulders, squeezing where it can, and begins to trail through his hair.

after three years, you still haven't managed to get him to tell you anything about his conditioner. another reason why you hate him so much.

"what'd he say?" you ask, after satoru's eyes close at the feeling of your hands.

"he had an interesting idea."

"was it your idea?"

"no, not this time."

"okay..."

"well, you know how they're always running low on teachers at the school, especially now that yaga's principal?"

"uh-huh."

"and you know how we could use the help with training megumi, and that we're the best out there--"

"no, satoru."

"i didn't even say--"

"i'm not teaching."

"but you'd be so great at it," he smiles up at you, fluttering his eyelashes in an attempt to break you.

so you look away because you refuse to fall victim to his whims again.

"the missions are enough, i don't want to be responsible for anyone else but you and the kids."

"you know you do."

"i'm not doing it," you tell him, snatching your arm back to cross them across your chest.

"it's not even that big of a change," he argues, "just, like, a very extensive year-long training program for incoming teachers--"

next part | series masterlist

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